I tend to tilt at windmills – to engage in professional quests that turn out fruitless. One such is my failed attempt to change how we use the words “leader” and “leadership.”
Nearly invariably it is presumed that both are preceded by the adjective “good.” We assume without question that to learn how to be a leader is to learn how to be a good leader. Similarly, we assume without question that leadership classes and programs and centers and books and tapes and videos are dedicated to promoting leadership that is good.
All of which would be fine… if we did not also assume that the adjective “good” was entirely unnecessary because there was no such thing as “bad.” That bad leadership either did not exist or it did not pertain. And that therefore paying attention to bad leaders and, or to bad leadership was merely a theoretical exercise, one of no practical value. Sort of like saying that medicine ought to concentrate entirely on promoting good health – never mind about repairing or at least improving bad health.
What to me is a serious problem that continues to plague leadership education, training, and development came to mind again this week when I was reading the “president’s letter” from Peter Salovey, president of Yale University. This one appeared in the most recent issue of Yale Alumni Magazine – it was about “learning to lead in times of crisis.”
Salovey made the usual mistake: he equated leading with good leading. When he wrote, for example, about how others “modeled” for him the “qualities of a leader,” he obviously meant though felt no need to so specify the qualities of a good leader. Similarly, when he wrote about teaching Yale students “vital skills for leadership,” it was taken as a given that these skills would be employed only by leaders who were good.
Where is this written in stone? Why do we wear rose colored glasses? Why does Salovey ignore the real possibility that a Yale undergraduate who learns how to lead will end a bad leader – not a good one. Bad as in ineffective. Or bad as in unethical. Or bad as in both.
I don’t get it. But then, I never did. Which likely means I never will.