Good leadership originates plans, policies, and ideas for the improvement of our Fellowship and its services. But in new and important matters it will nevertheless consult widely before taking decisions and actions. Good leadership will also remember that a fine plan or idea can come from anybody, anywhere. Consequently, good leadership will often discard its own cherished plans for others that are better, and it will give credit to the source.
Good leadership never passes the buck. Once assured that it has, or can obtain, sufficient general backing, it freely takes decisions and puts them into action forthwith, provided, of course, that such actions be within the framework of its defined authority and responsibility.
A politico is an individual who is forever trying to “get the people what they want.” A statesman is an individual who can carefully discriminate when and when not to do this. He recognizes that even large majorities, when badly disturbed or uninformed, can once in a while be dead wrong. When such an occasional situation arises, and something vital is at stake, it is always the duty of leadership, even when in a small minority, to take a stand against the storm using its every ability of authority and persuasion to effect a change.
Nothing, however, can be more fatal to leadership than opposition for opposition’s sake. It can never be “Let’s have it our way or no way at all.” This sort of opposition is often powered by a visionless pride or a gripe that makes us want to block something or somebody. Then there is the opposition that casts its vote saying, “No, we don’t like it.” No real reasons are ever given. This won’t do. When called upon, leadership must always give its reasons, and good ones.
Then, too, a leader must realize that even very prideful or angry people can sometimes be dead right, when the calm and the more humble are quite mistaken.
These points are practical illustrations of the kinds of careful discrimination and soul-searching that true leadership must always try to exercise.
Another qualification for leadership is give-and-take—the ability to compromise cheerfully whenever a proper compromise can cause a situation to progress in what appears to be the right direction.
Compromise comes hard to us all-or-nothing drunks. Nevertheless, we must never lose sight of the fact that progress is nearly always characterized by a series of improving compromises. We cannot, however, compromise always. Now and then it is truly necessary to stick flatfooted to one’s conviction about an issue until it is settled. These are situations for keen timing and a most careful discrimination as to which course to take.
Leadership is often called upon to face heavy and sometimes long-continued criticism. This is an acid test. There are always the constructive critics, our friends indeed. We ought never fail to give them a careful hearing. We should be willing to let them modify our opinions or change them completely. Often, too, we shall have to disagree and then stand fast without losing their friendship.
Then we have those whom we like to call our “destructive” critics. They power-drive, they are politickers, they make accusations. Maybe they are violent, malicious. They pitch gobs of rumors, gossip, and general scuttlebutt to gain their ends—all for the good of AA, of course! Well, in AA at least, we have at last learned that these folks, who may be a trifle sicker than the rest of us, need not be really destructive at all, depending entirely on how we relate ourselves to them.
To begin with, we ought to listen very carefully to what they say. Sometimes, they are telling the whole truth; at other times, a little truth. More often, though, they are just rationalizing themselves into nonsense. If we are within range, the whole truth, the half-truth, or even no truth at all can equally hurt us. That is why we have to listen so carefully. If they’ve got the whole truth, or even a little truth, then we’d better thank them and get on with our respective inventories, admitting we were wrong, regardless. If it’s nonsense, we can ignore them. Or we can lay all the cards on the table and try to persuade them. Failing this, we can be sorry they are too sick to listen, and we can try to forget the whole business. We can think of few better means of self-survey, of developing genuine patience, than the workouts these usually well-meaning but erratic brother members can afford us. This is always a large order, and we shall sometimes fail to make good on it ourselves. But we must needs keep trying.
Now comes that all-important attribute of vision. Vision is, I think, the ability to make good estimates, both for the immediate and for the more distant future. Some might feel this sort of striving to be a sort of heresy because we AAs are constantly telling ourselves, “One day at a time.” But that valued maxim really refers to our emotional lives and means only that we are not to repine over the past or wishfully fantasy or daydream about our future.
As individuals and as a Fellowship, we shall surely suffer if we cast the whole job of planning for tomorrow onto a kind Providence. God has endowed us human beings with considerable capability for foresight, and he evidently expects us to use it. Therefore, we must needs distinguish between wishful dreaming for a happy tomorrow and today’s use of our powers of thoughtful estimate—estimate of the kind which we trust will bring future progress rather than unforeseen woe.
Vision is therefore the very essence of prudence—a sound virtue if ever there was one. Of course, we shall often miscalculate the future in whole or in part. But even so, this will be far better than to refuse to think at all.
The making of estimates has several aspects. We look at past and present experience to see what we think it means. From this, we derive a tentative idea or policy. Looking first at the nearby future, we ask how our idea or policy might work. Following this estimate, we ask how our policies and ideas might work under the several differing conditions that could arise in the longer future. If an idea looks like a good bet, we try it on—always experimentally, when that is possible. Somewhat later, we revalue the situation and ask whether our estimate is, or may soon be, working out.
At about this stage, we may have to take a critical decision. Maybe we have a policy or plan that still looks fine and is apparently doing well. Nevertheless, we ought to ponder very carefully what its longtime effect will be. Will today’s nearby advantages boomerang into large liabilities for tomorrow? The temptation will almost always be to seize the nearby benefits and quite forget about the harmful precedents or consequences that we may be setting in motion.
These are no fancy theories. We have found that we must use these principles of estimate constantly, especially at world-service levels where the stakes are high. In public relations, for example, we must estimate the reaction of both AA groups and the general public, both short-term and long-term. The same thing goes for our literature. Our finances have to be estimated and budgeted. We must think about our service needs as they relate to general economic conditions, group capability, and willingness to contribute. On many such problems we must very often try to think many months and even years ahead.
As a matter of fact, all of AA’s Twelve Traditions were at first questions of estimate and vision for the future. Years ago, we slowly evolved an idea about AA being self-supporting. There had been trouble here and there about “outside gifts.” Then still more trouble developed. Consequently, we began to devise a policy of “no outside gifts.” We began to suspect that large sums would tend to make us irresponsible and could divert us from our primary aim. Finally, we saw that for the long pull “outside” money could ruin us utterly. At this point, what had been just an idea or general policy hardened firmly down into an AA Tradition. We saw that we must sacrifice the quick, nearby advantage for long-term safety in the future.
We went through this same process on anonymity. A few public breaks had looked good. But then the vision came that many such breaks could finally raise havoc among us. So it went—first a gleam in the eye, then an experimental policy, then a firm policy, and finally a deep conviction—a vision for tomorrow. Such is our process of estimating the future. Our responsible world leadership must be especially and constantly