Kai-Alexander Schlevogt on Strategic Leadership
When the perfect English butler Stevens in the novel The Remains of the Day is asked how he defines dignity, he answer bathetically that it comes down to not removing one's clothing in public. In view of the erosion of dignity in our times, alas, this currently appears to be the lowest common denominator for leaders.
Dignity, a highly elastic concept, is difficult to describe, but easy to see. In essence, a dignified person is somebody who carries himself in a way that merits respect. For the leader, dignity denotes a noble bearing that makes him worthy of being followed.
Clearly, people differ about what constitutes commendable conduct, since their judgment is heavily influenced by idiosyncratic values. But my "gut test of dignity" proves highly effective - try it at the next party: You first present your test subjects, who might hold opposing word views, with diverse sample of well-known individuals. When you ask who in the lineup is dignified, the respondents usually concur in their verdict.
For example, most of us viscerally agree that the German Pope Benedict XVI, Roman Catholic nun Mother Teresa of Calcutta and British Queen Elizabeth II epitomize this remarkable and rare quality.
Dignity is not only the hallmark of human civilization that distinguishes us from apes but also the measure of a leader. It serves as an internal fountain of strength and creates valuable social capital. It is the only thing you can always rely on, a valuable succor when you face moments of truth and are denied outside support. The relationship between leader and follower, such as that between master and apprentice, is sacred. Especially is Asia, people want to be able to look up to their superiors.
With dignity, you may be able to push through reforms even if you are unpopular. Former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, also known as the "Iron Lady", is a point in case. Because of the associated moral capital, dignity bestows authority on you even when you do not hold any formal position anymore.
Given the lasting impact of dignity, it surprises that many contemporary leaders seem to compete for the rank of most vulgar and indecent public persona in a sort of permanent reality show. When people think of former US President Bill Clinton, they usually remember his escapades with a young female intern, not his policies. He is also notorious for having discussed his choice of underwear in public.
French celebrity president Nicolas Sarkozy, whom many regard as arriviste and uncouth, shows how indignity can transform a top official into laughing stock and undermine his political effectiveness. The hyperactive and omnipresent politician got involved in a divorce saga and started a headline-grabbing romance with a model of disputed moral standards. He later embarrassed officials in India by holding out the prospect of visiting the subcontinent with her. He showed utter disregard for the mores of a land where liaisons out of wedlock are widely deemed improper. As an encore, a video clip was posted on the web, showing how the capricious head of state swore at a citizen who refused to shake his hands at the annual farming fair in Paris.
Some actors and other celebrities, who also lead many people through their example, choose drunk driving as a favorable pastime and thus make it fashionable. They do not even find it particularly objectionable to go to prison.
Dignity is partly innate but can be strengthened through determined efforts. The analogy of piano-playing is instructive: There are natural talents and less gifted individuals, but the latter still can improve through correct exercise.
(to be continued)
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