‘Man Up’ Is a Leadership Myth That Will Wipe You Out
By: Jerry Colonna
Tags: Operators Manual, Management, Work, Business, Leadership

‘Man Up’ Is a Leadership Myth That Will Wipe You Out

Veterans understand what business leaders must realize: Being an authoritarian leader is the sure path to ruin

Photo: PeopleImages/Getty Images

I smelled the stale cigarette smoke as soon as I walked into the meeting room, a small conference room in an American Legion post located in a strip mall. My hosts, a VA-sponsored center for veterans working with the consequences of post-traumatic stress disorder, had read my book and asked if I might come to speak to the vets. I was surprised by the request — it hadn’t occurred to me that my work, my message about leadership being the means by which we might grow up, would find resonance and be helpful to folks who fought our wars, let alone those who, in their weary hearts, continued to fight those battles. But when the request was made, I didn’t hesitate.

Instead, I thought of my father, a veteran of World War II who spent years of my childhood visiting his local VA hospital, sitting with older vets. I had to say yes.

Walking into the American Legion post, I was struck by how familiar it felt. There was, of course, the familiar smell of stale cigarettes, but there was also the black-and-white 8x10 photos of past post “commanders” in various poses: sitting for official portraits, marching in parades, standing at attention as the colors were raised. I had been in this room before—in other strip malls, in other cities. As a boy, some of my sharpest memories include walking with my dad at the posts of the Veterans of Foreign Wars or Catholic War Veterans.

At my hosts’ invitation, I read from my book. Thirty folks, all combat veterans, sat in rapt silence. Some were members of staff now. Most, though, were older — perhaps in their mid-seventies. Most were men.

For the reading, I chose a passage about my journey coming to see myself as a good man, a good adult, the person I was born to be. When the questions began, they quickly centered on one of my singular questions: What kind of leader am I?

As we talked through the intricacies of the twin journeys — into adulthood and into the process of learning to lead well — we began to share our own views of effective adulthood and effective leadership.

I acknowledged that I had never served and said that, as an outsider, it was always my understanding that folks often misunderstand effective military leadership. “From what I gather,” I noted, seeking confirmation or correction, “the view of effective leadership — outside an actual firefight — is that the military encourages collaborative leadership.”

“Those of us outside the military,” I said, “might think that what’s cultivated is this singular, authoritative style where one person has all the answers and everyone does as they’re told without question.”

Good leadership is adaptable, shifting as needs shift.

And then, from the front row, a woman spoke up. “Authoritarian platoon leaders either get shot, or they get their platoons wiped out,” she said. She had served three tours of duty in Iraq and was now counseling others. “The only thing that really works,” she added, “is collaborative leadership.”

Her comments brought to mind the book The Myth of the Strong Leader by Archie Brown:

What is conventionally hailed as strong leadership is not identical with good leadership, and the latter is not an abstract attribute but an appropriate response in a distinctive setting — in a particular time and place.

In other words, good leadership is adaptable, shifting as needs shift. Authoritarian leadership is called for in a firefight, perhaps, but being collaborative and adaptive is most often the right leadership style.

Brown writes:

Leadership, as distinct from power, was to be observed where all members were “on an equal footing,” yet where there was “generally some person whose counsel is more followed” than that of others. This is leadership in its purest form, defined as someone other people wish to be guided by and to follow.

Another vet asked, “Why do we struggle with this? Why do we think good leadership means someone having all the answers?”

We debated that for a while and came to understand the effects of our early socialization. I noted that we are socialized to yearn for strength. As children, we were told that indecision, uncertainty, and perhaps even a hint of self-doubt are all signs of weakness. “Hell,” I said, “just think of the way most boys and many girls are taught to handle pain and suffering. The only thing they’re given is some form of ‘man up!’ and the painful admonition that any emotion shown is an existential threat.”

“‘Man up’ is bullshit!”

I turned suddenly to see an older man, maybe in his mid- to late seventies. He wore a baseball cap with “Vietnam” embroidered above the brim. I said, “You’re right. ‘Man up’ is bullshit.”

“I was a medic,” he said, “and I had young men dying in my arms, and all the goddamn army gave me to give them was morphine and ‘man up!’’’ Red-faced, he shook and continued, “I’ve been holding that for 53 years, and I’m not going to hold it anymore.” He then stood, walked to the front of the room, and held out his arms. I walked into those arms and embraced him as he whispered, “‘Man up’ is bullshit.”

This myth of strong leadership not only gets platoons wiped out but also promulgates an unnecessary and painful violence on those we ask to lead.