PART ONE
CONFRONTING THE WIZARD AND WARRIOR WITHIN
Why a book about wizards and warriors as models for leadership? Because, as Peter Drucker once said, everything you learned is wrong. At best, it is misleading and insufficient. You typically learn in school, workshops, and seminars that if you can manage the work and serve the people, you have what it takes. Itâs not true. Maybe you have enough stuff to be a pretty good manager, but it takes a lot more to be a good leader.
In our earlier book, Reframing Organizations, we argued that managers need first to get an accurate reading on situations before taking action. The problem, we found, is that they typically relied on two lenses (we call them frames) when they needed four. The two they use focus on structure and people, and both are important and valuable perspectives. They help you become sensible and humane. But they work best in a rational world populated by reasonable people. No one lives in such an orderly world anymore. Todayâs organizations are inherently messy and unpredictable.
Thatâs why bad things keep happening to good managers. They get blindsided. Their career gets stunted or goes off the rails. The boss blames them for things that werenât their fault. Someone else gets a promotion that they deserved. A coworker flubs a project but tosses the dead cat into their yard. After a particularly devastating day at the office, one disillusioned manager commented, âI thought I had covered all the bases, and then realized that everyone else was playing football. I had a great strategy for the wrong game.â
This happens because managers are running on two cylinders when they need four. Two other framesâpolitical and symbolicâare required to make sense of the roiling, moving targets that organizations serve up every day. They take us into a world dominated by power and passion. The bad news: thatâs just where managers are usually weakest. We know this from our research worldwide and across sectors. Inattention to these two ways of thinking and behaving is a debilitating Achillesâ heel.1
Managers shy away from politics because they see its dynamics as sordid or because conflict scares them. They fear losing control and losing out. They cling to the illusion that if organizations were run right, they wouldnât be political. Most managers have an even harder time grasping the elusive and mysterious influence of symbols. Discounting culture as fuzzy and flaky, they donât see it, even though itâs there and influencing everything they do. Great leadership doesnât happen without addressing these political and cultural issues head-on. Leaders cannot afford to stay on the sidelines and play it safe. Someone has to be willing to stand up and put it on the line. Thatâs why we need more wizards and warriors.
Leaders are defined by their legacy, which is shaped over time from hard decisions they must often makeâwhether to lay off or not, to fight or withdraw, to merge or go it alone, to go against the grain to achieve more or follow the rules but gain less. At such critical choice points, great leaders access the wizardâs mastery of the symbols and the warriorâs command of power. The wizard role enables them to bring imagination, creativity, meaning, and magic. The warrior role mobilizes strength, courage, and willingness to fight as hard and long as necessary to fulfill their mission.
The wizard and the warrior inhabit two distinct but overlapping worlds. The warriorâs world is a place of combat, of allies and antagonists, courage and cowardice, honor and betrayal, strength and weakness. It is sometimes a world of danger and destructionâwar really is hell. One of the noblest and most enduring human quests is the search for peace, for a way to avoid warâs terrible costs. Yet combat and conflict continue to be endemic in human life. A group or organization that has no warriors is at great riskâof being overrun by one that does.
The wizard inhabits a realm of possibility, magic, and mystery. The wizardâs strength lies not in arms or physical courage, but in wisdom, foresight, the ability to see below and beyond appearances. The wizard brings unshakable faith that something new and better really is out there. The tools of the wizardâs trade are values, icons, ritual, ceremonies, and stories that weave day-to-day details of life together in a meaningful symbolic tapestry. An enterprise without wizards is sterile and often toxic. People are out for themselves rather than bonded together by a shared spirit.
The greatest leaders move in and out of both roles, even if they are more comfortable with one or the other. Or they partner with someone who has talent in a role they find hard to assume. Look, for example, at Time magazineâs millennial list of the greatest leaders and revolutionaries of the twentieth century.2 It includes both angels (Pope John Paul II) and devils (Adolph Hitler). Some, like Margaret Thatcher and Mao Zedong, were legendary warriors, known for their steely resolve and zest for combat. But Thatcher and Mao were both talented wizards as well. Others, such as Mahatma Gandhi and Nelson Mandela, were best known for near-miraculous impact on their respective nations, relying more on spiritual than political or military resources. But neither was a stranger to combat. The three U.S. presidents on Timeâs listâTheodore Roosevelt, Franklin D. Roosevelt, and Ronald Reaganâall combined the warriorâs courage and strength with the wizardâs alluring magic and hot hope.
What is true for world leaders holds for a growing number of practitioners who have become successful because they have learned to appreciate these fundamental dimensions of power and passion. An example is Dr. Jim Hager, a candidate for National Superintendent of the Year in 2004:
During the first half of this decade, my focus as a superintendent was on improving student learning by concentrating on people and structure. I now spend considerable energy and time dealing with individuals and narrow interest groups bent on immediate satisfaction of their parochial needs and wants, regardless of the consequences for the common good. More time is spent resolving conflicts that roil as special interests compete for power and resources. I also have to devote time and energy to symbolic issues to ensure the essence of public education. Since the current villagers have no sense of the village, todayâs superintendent must use rituals, stories, ceremonies and other symbols to transform a splintered culture into a common community focus on shared educational values.3
It is tragic to subject young people, our hope for a better future, to the crossfire of special interests and a cacophony of values. Weâll reap the consequences later on. But itâs not only our nationâs schools at peril. Hager echoes the observations of many other leaders across the country and around the world. Wise leaders in business, health care, the military, and nonprofit endeavors wrestle with the same vexations. Hager has an advantageâhe recognizes the political and symbolic challenges he faces and acts accordingly. Many would-be leaders are less fortunate. They persist in believing that creating a humane and rational workplace is enough for high performance. Year after year they are disappointed when their labors fall short.
Wizard and warrior are roles that you can choose to play and learn to play better. This book can help you become more versatile and make better choices, armed with an expanded repertoire of possibilities. Wizard and warrior images are metaphors to help you think on your feet. When, for example, you are in dangerous and highly charged political situations, what are your options? We will provide examples of three kinds of warriorâtoxic, relentless, and principledâand feature exemplars who highlight the costs and benefits of each stance. We will also examine the key attributes that warriors need to be successfulâmind, heart, skill, and weapons.
When the culture of your enterprise needs tweaking or transforming, what are your wisest moves? We identify three wizardly rolesâauthentic, wannabe, and harmfulâand demonstrate how leaders can inspire, deflate, or destroy a company. To be successful, wizards need to discover their own magic and spiritual core and then summon the collective spirit through example, values, ritual, ceremony, and stories.
We will study defining moments in the lives of famous and notso-famous leaders from different eras and places to illuminate pathways to follow and pitfalls to avoid. Those lessons can provide insight and perspective that will be invaluable in your own defining moments. Knowing when to fight or when to invoke key symbols can determine whether you succeed or run aground.
Consider an example of a university leader under fire. Before he became the seventh commissioner of major league baseball, A. Bartlett Giamatti was the president of Yale University. In 1984, he struggled to cope with a divisive strike that was tearing Yale apart. Clerical and technical workers had walked out, demanding higher wages and better benefits. Students and faculty were sharply divided. The strike was taking a heavy toll. A senior Yale administrator described his experience of the strike as âa pressure cooker, just terrible, horrible. Sheer utter hell.â
4 Giamatti was feeling the heat:
No human being enjoys having to have a bodyguard to walk around the campus. No human being enjoys having his family subjected to the kinds of things mine were. No human being enjoys being held up to contempt and ridicule. But no human being who confronts that and then changes all his beliefs about what the place stands for and how money is allocated would be worth very much.5
Talk-show host Phil Donahue called President Giamatti with a provocative invitation: Why not bring the whole mess on my show? Lacking obviously better options, Giamatti replied, âWhy not?â
Donahueâs show often pitted two sides of a heated controversy against one another, with the host acting as provocateur. In the showâs first segment, Donahue went after the union and subjected union reps to audience reactions. Next, Giamatti was put on the hot seat. He faced poking and prodding first from Donahue and then from the audience. There were both supporters and opponents, but the opposition was more vocal. Giamatti was barraged with angry criticism. Like a good warrior he took the blows and responded with well-placed jabs. He continually emphasized that university resources were in short supply and that many demands, including those of the strikers, had to be tallied against a finite financial pot. In the giveand-take between Giamatti and the audience it became clear that there were no villains, only distinct interests with legitimate claims. But politically, how could all be satisfied when there wasnât enough to go around? Some unifying thread was needed.
At the end of the show, each side got one minute for a summation. Giamatti was first, and opened by acknowledging the legitimacy of both sides. Then he switched roles from pugilistic warrior to poetic wizard. His language and posture changed as he launched into a story he had never before told in public. His father, Valentine Giamatti, was a son of Italian immigrants who spoke no English when he started grade school, but eventually became a strong student. When Valentine graduated from high school, he had two options: take a job in a local factory or go to school at the local college, which happened to be Yale. He was able to choose the latter only because Yale admitted people based on ability and supported them according to their needs. Passion in his voice, Giamatti underscored the ability-need formula as a core value that would never be sacrificed to short-term demands so long as he was president. The magic worked. The un...