Political Leadership for the New Century : Personality and Behavior among American Leaders 9780313010637, 9780275970376

Citation preview

POLITICAL LEADERSHIP FOR THE NEW CENTURY Personality and Behavior Among American Leaders EDITED BY Linda O. Valenty AND Ofer Feldman

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Political leadership for the new century : personality and behavior among American leaders / edited by Linda O. Valenty and Ofer Feldman. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0–275–97037–X (alk. paper) 1. Personality and politics—United States. 2. Personality and occupation—United States. 3. Political leadership—United States—Psychological aspects. 4. Political psychology. I. Valenty, Linda O. II. Feldman, Ofer, 1954– BF698.9.P6P65 2002 352.23'6'0973—dc21 2001036411 British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available. Copyright 䉷 2002 by Linda O. Valenty and Ofer Feldman All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, by any process or technique, without the express written consent of the publisher. Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2001036411 ISBN: 0–275–97037–X First published in 2002 Praeger Publishers, 88 Post Road West, Westport, CT 06881 An imprint of Greenwood Publishing Group, Inc. www.praeger.com Printed in the United States of America TM

The paper used in this book complies with the Permanent Paper Standard issued by the National Information Standards Organization (Z39.48–1984). 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Contents

Tables, Figures, and Appendixes Preface Introduction Linda O. Valenty and Ofer Feldman I.

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior Among American Leaders

vii xi xiii

1

1.

The Qualitative Study of Presidential Personality Fred I. Greenstein

3

2.

Political Leadership: Some Methodological Considerations Betty Glad

9

3.

Motivation and Political Leadership David G. Winter

II.

Quantitative Analysis: Contributions to the Study of Personality and Behavior

4.

5.

25

49

U.S. Presidents as Conflict Managers: The Operational Codes of George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton Mark Schafer, Michael D. Young, and Stephen G. Walker

51

Motive Imagery and Integrative Complexity: Bill Clinton, George Mitchell, and the Northern Ireland Peace Talks Linda O. Valenty and Mary E. Carroll

65

vi

Contents

6.

The Political Personality of U.S. President George W. Bush Aubrey Immelman

7.

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives: Insights from Biographers and Objective Personality Measures Steven J. Rubenzer, Thomas R. Faschingbauer, and Deniz S. Ones

III. 8.

9. 10.

11.

Qualitative Analysis: Contributions to the Study of Personality and Behavior Studying Images and Their Impact on Behavior: The Case of the Carter Administration Jerel Rosati John F. Kennedy as Dramatic Leader Robert E. Gilbert

81

105

135 137 161

Cloak and Swagger: Personality and Leadership in the Vice Presidency of Spiro T. Agnew Scott W. Webster

179

Governing a Divided America in the New Millennium: Heroic versus Reflective Leadership Stanley A. Renshon

201

References

233

Index

259

About the Editors and Contributors

267

Tables, Figures, and Appendixes

TABLES 3.1 3.2 3.3 3.4 3.5 3.6 3.7

3.8 3.9 4.1 4.2

Behavior Correlates of the Achievement, Affiliation, and Power Motives Motives of the Presidential First Inaugural Addresses, 1789–2001 Motives and Leadership Performance Among U.S. Presidents Motives and Leadership Outcomes Among U.S. Presidents: Political Style Motives and Leadership Outcomes Among U.S. Presidents: Peace and Scandals Motive Imagery Differences Between “Threat” and “Nonthreat” Presidential Speeches by John F. Kennedy Relationships Between Presidential Motive Imagery in Press Conferences and Schedule of Presidential Time on Adjacent Days Motive Profile of Richard Nixon Based on His Inaugural Addresses Actual versus Hypothesized Motive-Related Behaviors of Richard Nixon The General Operational Codes of Presidents Bush and Clinton Operational Codes of Presidents Bush and Clinton by International and Domestic Domains

27 28 30 32 33 37

38 39 40 56 59

viii

5.1 5.2 5.3 6.1 6.2 6.3 6.4 7.1 7.2 7.3 7.4 8.1 8.2 8.3 8.4 8.5 8.6 8.7

Tables, Figures and Appendixes

Motive Imagery Comparison Across Leaders Power Imagery Minus Achievement Imagery Comparison Across Leaders Power Imagery Minus Affiliation Imagery Comparison Across Leaders Millon’s Eight Attribute Domains Millon Inventory of Diagnostic Criteria: Scales and Gradations MIDC Item Endorsement Rate by Attribute Domain MIDC Scale Scores for George W. Bush NEO PI-R Factor and Facet Scales Average Percentile Scores of Presidential Types on the Big Five Personality Factors Correlations of the NEO Big Five Dimensions of Personality with Historian Ratings of Greatness Scores of Ronald Reagan on the NEO PI-R Facet Scales Number of Major Statements by Officials Illustration of Major Statements by President Carter Thematic Statements by Officials Summary of the Carter Administration’s Images of the International System Illustration of Carter Administration Foreign Policy Behaviors, 1977 Comparison of Carter Administration Rank Orderings of Beliefs and Behavior for Issues and Actors per Year Summary of Major Findings and Relationships

73 75 76 84 87 89 90 108 114 117 123 144 145 146 149 152 154 157

FIGURES 3.1 6.1 7.1 7.2

7.3

Bill Clinton’s Achievement and Power Motives over Time Millon Inventory of Diagnostic Criteria: Profile for George W. Bush Average Scores of U.S. Presidents on the NEO Big Five Factors Ronald Reagan’s Scores on the Big Five Personality Factors Relative to Average Americans and Other Presidents Ronald Reagan’s Personality Strengths and Liabilities as President (Presidential Norms)

42 91 112

124 125

Tables, Figures and Appendixes

8.1 8.2 11.1

ix

Summary of an Actor’s Image of the International System Beliefs and Their Relationship for Behavior

140 142

Electoral Vote Map

211

APPENDIXES 5.1 7.1

Data Coded for Leaders Involved in Peace Agreement Negotiations Producing Objective Personality Portraits: Selecting Items for Use in the Portraits

79 131

Preface

This volume follows our previous project titled Profiling Political Leaders: Cross-Cultural Studies of Personality and Behavior (edited by Ofer Feldman and Linda O. Valenty), published recently by Praeger (2001). While the first volume focused on the examination and application of a variety of methods designed to profile political leaders from divergent societies, the present volume is dedicated to American case studies. This volume represents a unique scholarly endeavor in that it examines the utility of these methods in the analysis of linkages between personality, political motivation, and behavior among American political leaders. In the broad sense, both the present and the previous volume should be read together, as they combine contributions from international scholars concerned with cross-cultural perspectives on political leadership and communicate across national and disciplinary boundaries with contributing authors from a variety of societies and disciplines, including history, political science, psychology, social psychology, and communication. The two volumes aim to stimulate broad general appeal and professional interest in the linkages between personality and political behavior. Taken as a whole, the two-volume set addresses the role of a nation’s culture and politics in framing the association between psychological profile and leadership performance. Several chapters call attention to the fact that cross-cultural comparative research on leadership should be applied within the broader study of cultural and national differences and characteristics, with acknowledgment and understanding that the behavior and function of leaders within societies can shed light on the (accepted) behavior and norms of the societies themselves. While working on this project and preparing these two volumes, we

xii

Preface

have attempted to keep several audiences in mind. The volumes are aimed primarily at scholars of political science, psychology, political psychology, sociology, contemporary history, and cross-cultural studies who are interested in an interdisciplinary approach to the study of political leadership and the research methods that support those studies. However, each or both of the edited books can serve as textbooks for courses in the above fields or for courses specifically dealing with political behavior and psychology, political sociology, personality, political leadership, cultural studies, or social psychology. In addition, the volumes are also accessible to the general reader who is interested in analyses of some of the most highly visible political figures of recent years. It has been our goal to provide depth and breadth in the collected research, and we are delighted that what has resulted is a survey of the state of the art with contributions from a truly distinguished group of political scientists, psychologists, and political psychologists with seasoned backgrounds and experience in understanding the interaction between leadership and personality, on the one hand, and political behavior, attitudes, and culture, on the other. We hope these two books will provide a stimulus for additional cross-cultural research on political leadership, personality, and behavior. We would like to thank Dr. James T. Sabin, Director of Academic Research and Development at Greenwood Publishing Group, for supporting our project as a whole. We also offer our sincere appreciation to the contributors for their chapters and for their consistently rapid responses to our requests for further information and revisions. To both of us, the editors, it has been a pleasure to work with all of these researchers; the project benefited much from their intellectual stimulation, ideas, suggestions, and criticism. Linda Valenty would also like to thank her children, Bethany and Luke, for their ongoing love and understanding during the completion of this second volume. Finally, Ofer Feldman owes the biggest debt to his wife, Rie, and sons, Utai and Iri, who were a constant source of support and encouragement throughout the whole project.

Introduction Linda O. Valenty and Ofer Feldman

Political Leadership for the New Century: Personality and Behavior Among American Leaders is specifically designed to analyze and deal with the complexities of evaluating those political leaders who have become prominent within the United States. It includes case studies examining political figures such as presidents John F. Kennedy, Richard Nixon, Jimmy Carter, Ronald Reagan, George H. W. Bush, Bill Clinton, and George W. Bush. It also contains a study of Vice President Spiro Agnew and data for other prominent leaders including all elected U.S. presidents. The impetus for the creation of this volume and our earlier volume, Profiling Political Leaders, was the need for texts that described both theory and implementation in the analysis of political personality and behavior. These chapters taken together provide an overview of current methods used in understanding and predicting political behavior Political leaders, by virtue of the tremendous responsibility that they both undertake and are given, have been of critical interest to analysts of politics and political psychology. However, the attributes of their personalities and the interaction between personality and behavior are not readily accessible and so necessitate the use of techniques which seek to enhance understanding without the advantage of direct access to the political subject. Both qualitative and quantitative versions of these techniques generally employ the use of what is often described as “at-adistance” methodology. Whether quantitative or qualitative, these approaches present difficulties for the researcher. Choice of material, determination of the method of analysis, and interpretation of results all present theoretical, if not logistical, hurdles that are overcome only with reliance upon the rigor of systematic analysis.

xiv

Introduction

It is the intent of this book to provide a unique framework, one that will facilitate an enhanced understanding of both political leadership and the methods used to analyze political leaders. To this end, relevant methodologies are described, specific application is provided, and issues regarding the application of methods are discussed. OVERVIEW OF THE BOOK Political Leadership for the New Century proceeds from the general to the specific. It is divided into three related sections. Part I includes three chapters that each provide an overview of the field from differing perspectives. In Chapter 1, Fred I. Greenstein contributes a concise history of qualitative methodology and then presents his own method based upon the examination of six qualities: communication, organizational ability, political skill, interactions between political skill and public policy, cognitive style, and emotional intelligence. Each of these qualities allows access to the personality and political predisposition of political leaders from the perspective of qualitative analysis. Betty Glad also writes from the perspective of qualitative analysis, providing useful insights from political theory and political science. In Chapter 2 she traces the development of leadership studies, explains past preferences for methods that have sought to analyze leadership with rational choice models, and discusses concomitant resistance to theories of leadership that acknowledge the complexity of the dynamic relationship between personality and public policy. Glad goes on to describe the role of events and the importance and relevance of experience and culture in understanding the behavior of leaders. She suggests that we may increase our understanding of leadership by narrowing our levels of analysis to specific policy contexts and individual policy makers as well as by clarifying the frameworks within which our inquiries take place. She argues that it is crucial to understand that complexity varies with the nature of the inquiry and that the field of political leadership requires investigations that deal with the inherent intricacy of the subject matter. Thus, simpler solutions may not do justice to the task undertaken. In Chapter 3, David G. Winter uses the concept of motivation as a perspective from which to understand both leadership style and performance. He also provides an overview of the field, in this case from the perspective of content analysis. Winter explains the derivation of an integrated system for scoring motives using content analysis of archival verbal material and evaluates the associations between this particular quantitative methodology and other qualitative methods of analysis. Using U.S. presidents and other world leaders as case studies, he explains that motives have a role in predicting political behavior and in understanding political behavior after it has taken place. Importantly, when

Introduction

xv

motives are evaluated in conjunction with information about other personality traits and the context of events, their explanatory power is increased. Part II is composed of four chapters that are quantitative in orientation and rely on case studies of American leaders to demonstrate the use of several distinct methods designed to enhance understanding of leadership and behavior. In Chapter 4, Mark Schafer, Michael D. Young, and Stephen G. Walker evaluate the operational code of presidents Bill Clinton and George H. W. Bush using a content analysis coding scheme entitled the Verbs in Context System (VICS). Public speeches were coded according to attributions that denote forms of cooperative and conflictual political behavior. The authors then systematically constructed indices that determine conflictual or cooperative predispositions, optimism and pessimism, views of the political future, sense of ability to control political developments, beliefs regarding the efficacy of different strategies, methods of dealing with risk, beliefs regarding the role of timing in implementing political decisions, and preferences for the use of instruments of statecraft to carry out policy. The authors use the results of these analyses to investigate change and continuity in leaders, demonstrate differences in operational codes across international and domestic political domains, and examine the role of personality in explanations of presidential leadership. Linda O. Valenty and Mary E. Carroll apply motive imagery and conceptual/integrative complexity scoring systems to perform a content analysis designed to increase understanding of the roles played by Bill Clinton and George Mitchell in the peace talks that resulted in the 1998 Good Friday Agreement in Northern Ireland. The authors relate information derived from each of these methods to the process of conflict escalation and resolution. Motivational profiles and conceptual/integrative complexity scores are presented for leaders in the peace process. Results demonstrate that the methods, although distinct, complement each other, further inform the analysis of conflict, and strengthen understanding of the relative success of these peace negotiations. In Chapter 6, Aubrey Immelman presents a psychodiagnostic framework and methodology for assessing personality in politics, followed by an applied assessment of the personality and leadership style of President George W. Bush. He evaluates the foundation provided by other theoretical work and specifically deals with the influence of past theories upon his own conceptual work and upon the general psychological diagnosis of political actors. Using Millon’s personological model and its eight attribute domains, Immelman is able to construct an integrative view of the multidimensionality of the political personality. He discusses the predictive utility of the method in anticipating coping strategies and in predicting breakdowns in adaptive functioning. The method is also

xvi

Introduction

compared to techniques that are not identified as standard approaches to personality assessment in professional psychodiagnostic practice. Steven J. Rubenzer, Thomas R. Faschingbauer, and Deniz S. Ones contribute the last chapter in this section. Their analysis in Chapter 7 is unique in that it utilizes experts to rate U.S. presidents, creating individual personality portraits on the basis of these ratings. Data were collected from experts who have studied subject presidents in depth and from scholars and authors who have studied presidents as a group. Raters were asked to evaluate presidents using three independent measures, the Revised NEO-Personality Inventory (a 240-item inventory, normed for the U.S. population, measuring five dimensions of personality and 30 more specific sub-dimensions), the California Q-Sort (1978), and Goldberg’s 100 Adjective Clusters (the most frequently occurring synonym clusters of personality-related adjectives). This approach is illustrated with data from all past presidents and includes a case study of Ronald Reagan. The authors discuss the approach, its derivation, its utility, and its limitations. Part III of this text deals with qualitative analyses of American leaders. Jerel Rosati contributes the first chapter in this section. Chapter 8 is transitional, in that Rosati uses both qualitative and quantitative content analysis to address critical methodological issues related to the images that political leaders hold and the importance of the “operational beliefs” of decision makers in the Carter Administration. Thematic content analysis was enlisted to code general images of the international system, while qualitative analysis was employed to determine the issues, actors, and the nature of global change perceived by the Carter administration. Quantitative analysis was found to have more utility in determining the salient issues and actors as perceived by the Carter administration. Qualitative analysis enhanced understanding of context and thus was more useful in determining the particular significance of these images. Rosati finds that it was important to use these methods in conjunction to maximize valid inferences and to enhance the context sensitivity of the content analysis research design. Using both methods, he was able to evaluate the multiple decision makers in the Carter administration and examine the level of stability and change in images over time. Finally, Rosati describes important foreign policy implications for the analysis of the relationship between images and behavior. Robert E. Gilbert contributes Chapter 9, which uses the five personality types suggested by Kets de Vries and Miller (dramatic, compulsive, depressive, schizoid, and paranoid) to demonstrate the importance of personality as a determinant of leadership style. Gilbert discusses the effect of personality on leadership style and on the resulting political organization. He further analyzes the importance of secondary personality traits in restraining the effects of the primary personality trait. Gilbert

Introduction

xvii

applies the method to an examination of the personality of John F. Kennedy, finding that Kennedy demonstrated several characteristics of a dominant personality style as defined by Kets de Vries and Miller. However, Kennedy also demonstrated secondary leadership characteristics that operated as balancing influences to his primary leadership style. Gilbert further assesses Kennedy’s personality by exploring his early upbringing and relationship with his parents, brothers, and sisters. The important effects of Kennedy’s poor health on the development of his personality and outlook are also considered. This case study is used to evaluate the utility of the Kets de Vries and Miller typology and to discuss its application to the analysis of leadership. In Chapter 10, Scott W. Webster presents a qualitative evaluation of the life and personality of Vice President Spiro T. Agnew. Beginning with detailed biographic information, Webster analyzes the pathways that led Agnew to positions of political leadership, national political office, and an abrupt exit from public life. Webster describes the tension that surfaced once Agnew had won the vice presidency and explains how Agnew’s continued self-promotion and disdain affected his relationships within the White House. Specific attention is paid to Agnew’s complex relationship with then President Richard Nixon. Webster surveys a variety of sources that have provided psychological data for both Agnew and Nixon and considers the manner by which the psychological attributes of these two men shaped their efforts at leadership. Stanley A. Renshon provides the concluding chapter to this volume. In Chapter 11 he evaluates leadership in America and questions existing configurations as well as potential for the future. Renshon’s analysis begins with a discussion of the depletion of leadership capital and proceeds to describe the relationship of reflective and heroic leadership styles to deeply divided societies. He suggests that the United States, a deeply divided society, is drawn to specific psychological and behavioral parameters in its leaders. Using the 2000 elections, Bill Clinton, Al Gore, and George W. Bush as important reference points, Renshon evaluates leadership templates and discusses their ability to contribute to an enhanced understanding of contemporary America, a country that has diverged culturally, politically, and psychologically. Finally, Renshon provides an analysis of presidential leadership before and after the September 11 terrorist attack, evaluating transformations that have taken place in the Bush presidency, in George W. Bush’s leadership style, and in American political culture. Taken as a whole, the chapters in this volume create a map leading the reader to quantitative and qualitative measures that have been tested and found to be reliable in the quest to examine the behavior and performance of American political leaders. We hope that access to these measures—as well as to commentary that describes their relative

xviii

Introduction

strengths and limitations—will enable readers to make an informed choice regarding which will be valuable in their own research. It is also our hope that researchers will continue to investigate the associations between personality and leadership and participate in the further development of innovative and useful methods directed at deepening our understanding of leadership and our ability to interpret political behavior. Like our previous volume, this book not only aims to summarize leading methods designed to examine political leaders in and across societies and cultures, it also endeavors to create a foundation for further studies of leadership, political personality, and behavior.

Part I

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior Among American Leaders

Chapter 1

The Qualitative Study of Presidential Personality Fred I. Greenstein

The American political system is said to be one of institutions rather than individuals, but it was not an institution that authorized the use of the atom bomb against Japan in 1945 or initiated an open-ended U.S. military commitment in Vietnam in 1965. It was Harry S. Truman and Lyndon B. Johnson. The political experience of the United States abounds with episodes—some of very great significance—in which presidents took actions that might not have been taken by other White House incumbents. Presidents have placed their stamp on public policy since the founding of the Republic. But for much of American history presidents deferred to Congress for the initiation of policy, the federal government played only a modest part in the lives of citizens, and the nation was inactive in global affairs. Then came the Great Depression, World War II, and the incisive response to these challenges by Franklin D. Roosevelt. During the three terms and three months of the Roosevelt presidency, the United States became a world power and a nascent welfare state, and the presidency itself underwent a metamorphosis. The president replaced Congress as the principal source of legislative proposals, presidents began to make an increasing amount of public policy by executive action, and the Executive Office of the President was created, providing the chief executive with the organizational support needed to carry out his (and someday her) obligations. The qualities that distinguish one chief executive from another have their greatest potential impact in the realm of national security, where the president is custodian of a vast nuclear arsenal. No president since Truman has employed nuclear weapons, but there have been many presidentially initiated conventional military commitments, the largest of

4

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

which have been in Korea in the 1950s, Vietnam in the 1960s and 1970s, and the Persian Gulf in 1991. The president also is a major domestic force, not only because of his formal powers but also because his position at the apex of the political system makes him uniquely able to seek public support for his policies. The two most influential scholarly works that employ qualitative evidence to identify the qualities that shape presidential performance are Richard E. Neustadt’s Presidential Power (1960), and James David Barber’s The Presidential Character (1972). Presidential Power is an exercise in political psychology with the emphasis on the political. Taking it as his premise that the American political order places severe constraints on the chief executive, Neustadt argues that a president has three complementary resources for overcoming these constraints: He can employ the formal and informal powers of his office as levers for bargaining and persuasion; he can make it evident to other members of the policy-making community that he has the support of the public; and he can demonstrate to other policy makers that he is a skilled and determined political operator. Neustadt concludes that an effective president needs to be well grounded in the ways of American politics, sensitive to power relations, and self-assured about the merit of his policies and his ability to direct his nation. Presidential Power is written more in the manner of the humanities than the social sciences, but its argument can be restated with the specificity of a self-consciously empirical analysis. This translation has been accomplished by Sperlich (1969). Sperlich identifies the variables and causal relations implicit in Neustadt’s account and sets Neustadt’s formulation against the social science literature on the nature of leadership, arriving at two conclusions. The first is that Neustadt overemphasizes presidential bargaining, ignoring “nonreciprocal” sources of influence, such as conscience, shared ideology, and personal commitment to the chief executive. The second is that Neustadt underemphasizes the role that loyal aides can play in presidential leadership. The result, according to Sperlich, is a prescription for presidential overload, because it places such a great emphasis on the extent to which the occupant of the Oval Office is personally responsible for the conduct of his presidency. Barber’s The Presidential Character is an exercise in political psychology with the stress on the psychological. Barber identifies five broad determinants of a president’s White House performance. Two relate to the political context—the contemporary power situation (e.g., the partisan balance in Congress) and climate of expectations (e.g., the state of public opinion). The other three bear on the president’s inner characteristics— his political style (habitual way of carrying out his responsibilities), worldview (political beliefs), and character (the deeper layers of his psyche). In principle, this is an excellent framework within which to analyze

The Qualitative Study of Presidential Personality

5

presidential personality in that it reminds the analyst that a president’s actions will be a joint function of his personal predispositions and his political context (Greenstein, 1969). In practice, however, Barber’s focus is virtually exclusively on character, which he classifies in terms of whether a president is active or passive in the conduct of his responsibilities and whether the affect he invests in his leadership is positive or negative. Out of this pair of dichotomies Barber derives a four-fold classification of presidential character. The two passive types in Barber’s scheme— the passive-positive and passive-negative presidents—echo David Riesman’s earlier classification of social character (Riesman, 1950). The passive-positive presidents have what Riesman called an “otherdirected” personality. They rely on others (for example, their staffs) to give direction to their presidencies. The passive-negative presidents have what Reisman referred to as “inner-directed” personalities. They participate in politics out of a sense of duty, and their actions are driven by their consciences. The two active character types in Barber’s formulation also parallel the work of a seminal student of political psychology, in this case Harold D. Lasswell. Barber’s active-positive presidents are marked by what Lasswell called “democratic character structure” (Lasswell, 1950). They are emotionally robust and high in self-esteem, qualities that liberate them to engage in effective political leadership. Barber’s active-negative presidents parallel the type of politician Lasswell identified as power-seeking personalities for whom politics is a means of compensating for emotional insecurities (Lasswell, 1930). As Barber puts it, the active-negative presidents channel great energy into their political actions, but it is an energy that is “distorted from within” (Barber, 1972: 9). Barber’s illustrations of how such distortions can shape political action include Woodrow Wilson’s stubborn refusal to make the modest compromises that would have permitted the ratification of the Versailles Treaty and Lyndon Johnson’s perseveration in escalating the war in Vietnam in the face of mounting evidence that it was proving to be counterproductive. Barber’s classification scheme posits an overly simple view of presidential (and other) political psychology. Consider the pair of dichotomies that determine the four character types, both of which fail to capture important distinctions. Rather than being either positive or negative in their feelings about politics, presidents may be both: they may be subject to mood swings, as Theodore Roosevelt and Lyndon Johnson were. Rather than being either active or passive, they may be active in some spheres and passive in others, as Ronald Reagan was. (Reagan was an indefatigable public communicator, but he did little to master the specifics of his administration’s policies.) Barber’s scheme is also excessively dependent on externals. It fails, for example, to alert the observer to the

6

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

emotional deficiencies of Bill Clinton, whose outward qualities were active and positive, but who resembled such active-negative presidents as Woodrow Wilson in having emotional flaws that impeded his performance. Barber’s taxonomy is an example of what Alexander George and Juliette George (1998) characterize as a “file drawer” approach to political diagnosis. As an alternative, George and George propose elucidating the psychology of presidents and other political actors inductively, drawing on existing clinical typologies as sources of hypotheses about a subject’s inner dynamics. That strategy is taken in the most persuasive presidential psychobiographies, including the Georges’s own sharply etched portrait of Woodrow Wilson (George & George, 1956), Betty Glad’s (1980) subtle account of Jimmy Carter, and Stanley Renshon’s psychoanalytic interpretation of Bill Clinton (Renshon, 1998a). Another approach to the study of presidential personality, building on the insights of Neustadt and Barber, can be found in the present writer’s The Presidential Difference: Leadership Style from FDR to Clinton (Greenstein, 2000). Approaching each of the 11 presidents encompassed by the book’s subtitle inductively, I also examine each of them in terms of six qualities. The first, which pertains to the outer face of leadership, is the president’s proficiency as a public communicator. The second, which relates to the inner workings of the presidency, is the president’s organizational capacity—his ability to rally his colleagues and structure their activities effectively. The third and fourth bear on the president as political operator—his political skill and the extent to which it is harnessed to a vision of public policy. The fifth is the cognitive style with which the president processes the Niagara of advice and information that comes his way. The last is what Max Weber refers to as “the firm taming of the soul” and has come to be called emotional intelligence—the president’s ability to manage his emotions and turn them to constructive purposes, rather than being dominated by them and allowing them to diminish his leadership (Goleman, 1995; Weber, 1956: 19). Here, in brief, are my conclusions: 1. Public Communication. For an office that places so great a premium on the presidential pulpit, the modern presidency has been surprisingly lacking in effective public communicators. Most presidents have not addressed the public with anything approximating the professionalism of countless educators, members of the clergy, and radio and television broadcasters. Roosevelt, Kennedy, and Reagan—and Clinton at his best— are the shining exceptions. 2. Organizational Capacity. A president’s capacity as an organizer includes his ability to forge a team and get the most out of it, minimizing the tendency of subordinates to tell their boss what they sense he wants to hear. It also includes a quite different matter: his proficiency at cre-

The Qualitative Study of Presidential Personality

7

ating effective institutional arrangements. The modern president with by far the greatest and most demanding organizational experience was Eisenhower, who had a highly developed view of the matter. “I know of only one way in which you can be sure you have done your best to make a wise decision,” he declared in a 1967 interview: That is to get all of the [responsible policy makers] with their different viewpoints in front of you and listen to them debate. I do not believe in bringing them in one at a time and therefore being more impressed by the most recent one you hear than the earlier ones. You must get courageous men of strong views and let them debate with each other. (Eisenhower, 1967)

Not all of the modern presidents have been open to vigorous giveand-take. Nixon and Reagan were uncomfortable in the presence of faceto-face disagreement. Lyndon Johnson’s Texas-sized personality had a chilling effect on some of his subordinates. His National Security Council staff member Chester Cooper recalled recurrent fantasies of facing down Johnson at National Security Council meetings when Johnson sought his concurrence on a matter relating to Vietnam by replying, “I most definitely do not agree.” But when Johnson turned to him and asked, “Mr. Cooper, do you agree?” Cooper found himself replying, “Yes, Mr. President, I agree” (Cooper, 1970: 223) 3. Political Skill. If there ever was reason to doubt Neustadt’s emphasis on the importance of the president’s political skill, it was eliminated by the presidential experience of Jimmy Carter. Lyndon Johnson seemed almost to have taken his methods from Neustadt. Within hours after Kennedy’s assassination, Johnson had begun to muster support for major domestic policy departures. He exhibited will as well as skill, cultivating his political reputation by keeping Congress in session until Christmas 1963 in order to prevail in one of his administration’s first legislative contests. And his actions won him strong public support, making it apparent to his opposite numbers on Capitol Hill that it would be politically costly to ignore his demands. 4. Policy Vision. Despite his political virtuosity, Lyndon Johnson led the United States into the quagmire of Vietnam, never pausing to ask what its economic and human costs would be. In short, he lacked a realistic vision of public policy, at least in international affairs (Burke et al., 1989). Three of the modern presidents had particularly well developed views of public policy—Eisenhower, Nixon, and Reagan exceeded the other modern presidents in that capacity, although Reagan’s policy views were poorly grounded in information. Presidents with firm policy stances are able to set the terms of policy discourse. In effect they serve as anchors for the rest of the political community. The costs of visionfree leadership include the failure to set priorities, the enactment of in-

8

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

ternally contradictory programs, and policies such as those of Johnson in Southeast Asia that have unintended and undesired consequences. 5. Cognitive Style. Presidents vary widely in their cognitive styles. Jimmy Carter had an engineer’s proclivity to reduce issues to what he perceived to be their component parts. That style served him well in the 1978 Camp David negotiations, but it was ill suited for providing his administration with a sense of direction. Carter’s cognitive qualities contrast with the kind of strategic intelligence that cuts to the heart of a problem, as Eisenhower did when he introduced his administration’s deliberations on Dien Bien Phu with the incisive observation that the jungles of Indochina would “absorb our divisions by the dozens” (Burke et al., 1989: 32). Another example of strategic intelligence is to be had from a chief executive who will never grace Mount Rushmore: Richard Nixon. Two years before entering the White House, Nixon laid down the goals of moving the United States beyond its military involvement in Vietnam, establishing a balance of power with the Soviet Union, and creating an opening with China. By the final year of his first term, he had accomplished his purpose. 6. Emotional Intelligence. Three of the 11 modern presidents stand out as fundamentally free of distracting emotional perturbations: Eisenhower, Ford, and Bush. Four others were marked by problematic emotional undercurrents that did not significantly impair their leadership: Roosevelt, Truman, Kennedy, and Reagan. That leaves Johnson, Nixon, Carter, and Clinton, all of whom were emotionally handicapped. The vesuvian LBJ was subject to mood swings of clinical proportions. Jimmy Carter’s rigidity was a significant impediment to his White House performance. The defective impulse control of Bill Clinton led him into actions that ensued in his impeachment. There is no royal road to the understanding of presidential personality. Qualitative and quantitative methodologies are complementary rather than competitive. Students of presidential political psychology need all of the colleagues they can get. They would therefore be advised to adopt a motto that was enunciated in the very different forum of Chinese politics: “Let many flowers bloom.”

Chapter 2

Political Leadership: Some Methodological Considerations Betty Glad

TEXTBOOK “SCIENCE” AND THE STUDY OF POLITICAL LEADERSHIP Classical political theorists and historians devoted considerable attention to issues of political leadership. The concerns of Plato and Aristotle were not only with how men come to power but with the goals that they follow once in office. Leadership was still a topic of central concern in the early modern period. But for Machiavelli in The Prince (1966), the focus shifted from what leaders ought to do to what they must do to secure and maintain themselves in power. Throughout the early twentieth century the study of the phenomenon of leadership flourished in several formats and disciplines. In 1930 Harold Lasswell (1930) called for studies of the motivations of political leaders, and in the 1950s and 1960s there were several important books along these lines.1 In addition, the major management journals and those dealing with primate behavior carried many articles on leadership behavior.2 Somewhat paradoxically, given this rich tradition and promising beginning, the study of political leadership in American political science journals has not flourished as one might have expected. The American Political Science Review published only 42 articles on the subject out of a total of 4,856 articles since its beginning in 1906. That is less than 1% of the total number of articles. Throughout this period of time there were no articles published dealing with the leadership practices of Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, or Mao Zedong.3 The neglect of leadership in much of mainstream political science is due, in part, to the desire, explicitly stated by several leading students

10

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

of politics, to find general laws of political behavior that are not time bound. According to their view, broader cultural patterns and institutional structures have more durability than the policy choice patterns of particular individuals who may rotate in office. Thus Herbert Simon in the introduction to the second edition of Administrative Behavior (1957: vii) rejected the idea that individuals make a difference in how organizations are run. Personality, as he saw it, “was a magical slogan to charm away the problems that our intellectual tools don’t handle.” More recently Terry Moe (1993: 343) has argued that to look at values, beliefs, and skills is to open a Pandora’s box that orients the field around “untold causal mysteries.” The best approach, he goes on to suggest, is one that places positive value on not being comprehensive, on eliminating rather than proliferating variables, on capturing just the essence of a problem rather than describing the whole thing (353–54). The goal is to “move toward a methodology that values simplicity and parsimony rather than complexity and comprehensiveness” (Moe, 1993: 338). Gary King (1993: 353–54) makes a similar argument: “A theory that is sufficiently broad, or an explanation with a huge number of explanatory variables illuminates nothing whatsoever.” This relative neglect of leadership in the political science profession also is related to the view that emotion in political life is the equivalent of the irrational and as such makes prediction impossible. Generally, as Lewis Mumford (1963) has noted, in the modern Western world emotionality has been identified as irrational behavior. Ever since the Enlightenment, as George Marcus and Wendy Rahn (1990) have argued, this has been the case. From Spinoza through Descartes and Kant to Rawls, reason has been viewed as the source of good in political life. “To be rational,” they note, is “to be a good citizen, and to be emotional is to be at best backward, childish and a poor citizen; at worst emotional responses to political life are seen as capricious, reactionary, and even dangerous.” These responses are amplified when one is dealing with major political leaders—those we depend on to direct our public life. Thus Verba (1969) argued, even as the policy disasters of the Vietnam War were at their height, that leaders, because of their access to information and their responsibilities, were apt to be more rational in their foreign policy choices than non-leaders would be. Even clear instances in which policies are driven by passion, Herbert Simon (1985) argued, need not be viewed in terms of these passions. Though Hitler’s anti-Semitism was driven by hatred, his decisions can nevertheless be interpreted through an information-processing mode. “Hitler was not just angry; he directed his hatred toward a particular group of people, Jews, and he made decisions that were arguably rational on the premise that the Jewish people were to be extirpated to satisfy that hatred.” In instances such as these, it may suffice to “pos-

Political Leadership: Some Methodological Considerations

11

tulate overtly expressed values and goals without seeking their deeper roots in the unconscious” (1985: 301). Gary King (1993: 403) has even questioned the use of terms such as “ego defensiveness” and “cognitive rigidity,” arguing that the terms have been used in ways too imprecise for scientific work. This equation of the rational with the scientific is made explicit by William H. Riker and Peter C. Ordeshook. They argue that “the assumption of rationality and the assumption of mechanism play comparable roles in the explanation of the social and physical world. The mechanical assumptions assert that there is something about things that assures us they will (usually) move regularly, and the rationality assumption asserts that there is something about people that makes them behave (usually) in a regular way. In each case, the function is to generalize about the regularity” (quoted in Almond & Genco, 1977: 508). The responses to James Forrestal’s rather obvious emotional difficulties as U.S. Secretary of Defense are illustrative of the resistance to even clear evidence that emotional factors influenced his role performance. Forrestal’s paranoia grew to the point where he would look for Communists, Jews, and other agents behind closet doors in his Georgetown flat. Eventually, as a psychiatric patient at Bethesda Naval Hospital, he killed himself by jumping out of a window from his 16th-floor room. Despite the hard evidence in Arnold Rogow’s book (1963: 1–19, 306–19) of Forrestal’s emotional problems, several reviewers had problems in admitting that Forrestal’s serious psychological problems had an impact on his role performance. Louis Morton, for example (1964: 1098), caricatures Rogow’s work, stating that Forrestal’s political behavior could not be interpreted as the result of a “domineering mother, an indulgent father and feelings of guilt.” G. M. Lyons (1964: 375) argues that “there are perfectly rational reasons for the stands Forrestal took on more important issues.” Rogow’s account, he concludes, provides us with the portrait of a “complex personality, but not necessarily a disturbed one.”4 In short, the attraction of the textbook scientific model is based on two assumptions—that any research that aspires to be scientific must be directed toward general laws which are applicable everywhere and that decision makers and political actors are rational in their behavior. Like the laws of classical physics, general laws cannot include the local, the particular, the idiopathic. So individual leaders need not be considered. Any discussion of the non-rational and emotional aspects of their behavior is particularly beyond the bounds of scientific inquiry.5 “SCIENCE” RECONSIDERED This emphasis on the discovery of general laws as the only appropriate goal of scientific inquiry, I suggest, is based on a model of natural sci-

12

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

ences used in classical physics. The assumption is that the world is rational, orderly, and built in a way so that the most powerful explanations can be found at a general level. Moreover, because phenomena are considered to be basically static—that is, patterns are repetitive—the power of a theory is to be found in its ability to predict future events. This perspective is often accompanied by a textbook view of the scientific method. The appropriate processes of inquiry, it is assumed, are more or less common to all scientists, and the proof of a theory depends on its ability to predict. When the appropriate procedures are followed, the ensuing conclusions will be accepted by others in the scientific community. Associated with this view is a status hierarchy in which all forms of inquiry are evaluated in terms of the extent to which they follow the procedures followed in classical physics. As Stephen Jay Gould (1989: 278–80) has pointed out: [T]he status ordering of the sciences has become so familiar a theme that the ranking from adamantine physics at the pinnacle down to such squishy and subjective subjects as psychology and sociology at the bottom has become stereotypical in itself. These distinctions have entered our language and our metaphors—the “hard” versus the “soft” sciences, the “rigorously experimental” versus the “merely descriptive. . . .” Perhaps the saddest aspect of this linear ranking lies in the acceptance of inferiority by bottom dwellers and their persistent attempts to ape inappropriate methods that may work higher up on the ladder. When the order itself should be vigorously challenged . . . too many a historical scientist acts like the prison trustee who, ever mindful of his tenuous advances, outdoes the warden himself in zeal for persevering the status quo of power and subordination.

This textbook view of the natural sciences, as we shall point out below, is no longer fashionable in the natural sciences. But first let us look at the phenomenon we wish to understand in leadership studies. THE ROLE OF THE PARTICULAR AND THE EMOTIONAL IN LEADERSHIP STUDIES This emphasis on finding general laws and “rational” behavior handicaps us in the examination of complex and shifting phenomena. The American presidency, for example, can be viewed, at any one moment in time, as a somewhat idiopathic cluster of various interacting forces, such as the constitutional definitions of the office, the broader system of political parties, the accepted practices of earlier presidents, the resources habitually associated with the office (e.g., instant access to the mass media), and widespread popular attitudes toward the role of the president. The phenomenon we study is dynamic to the extent that these forces

Political Leadership: Some Methodological Considerations

13

have a history. Institutions may change when the balance or the force of some key variable changes. One must also take account of those changes in the institution and its outputs that occur as the result of purposive choices of specific individuals. The exercise of power by individual incumbents has been one of the key variables in the development of the American presidency. Some incumbents, as Pious (1978, 1991) has shown, attempted to stretch those powers. When they succeeded, they created precedents upon which later presidents built. But at other times, they overshot and failed, thereby creating a backlash against presidential prerogatives. A concern with the intentions of important actors is particularly important for turning-point events. In the United States the actions of a few men at the Constitutional Convention at Philadelphia established the very institutional forms that Moe (1993) and others now see as determining the actions of their successors in high political positions. Moreover, many subsequent American foreign policy choices can only be understood if we study the particular inputs of key decision makers. As Alexander and Julliette George (1956) argue, Woodrow Wilson’s puzzling rigidity in dealing with the U.S. Senate in 1919 can be attributed to an emotional defensiveness triggered when important, fatherly figures attacked projects in which he had deeply invested himself. The subsequent failure of the Harding administration to even attempt to enter the League of Nations was also due in part to the worldview of Charles Evans Hughes, the secretary of state who played the key role in forming U.S. policies at the time (Glad, 1966). Reason, as he saw it, reveals itself in the institutions and habits of people and evolves in a progressive direction over time. Modest efforts to build new institutions for mediating and arbitrating conflicts were in tune with his evolutionary view of progress. But radical changes such as a commitment to the principle of collective security at the world level outstrip the ability of a people to change their habits and thus go beyond the pace of this evolution of reason. Without the revolutionary fervor and the skills of Vladimir Lenin and Joseph Stalin it is unlikely that a totalitarian communist system would have been established in a largely peasant society such as the Russian Empire. Mikhail Gorbachev’s domestic reform agenda and efforts to limit the arms race and establish better relations with the West forever changed the face of the USSR and its successor-state, Russia (Glad & Shiraev 1999a, 1999b). Hitler, as Ian Kershaw (1998) has recently demonstrated, was not destined to establish a Nazi regime in Germany. Rather, historical circumstances, the actions of others, and just plain fortune, as well as his skills, led to Hitler’s rise to power. This is not to say that broader political factors do not influence the choices made by key individuals. Indeed, as Kingdon (1984) has pointed out, the policy-making process in most Western polities, for example, is

14

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

one that depends on the confluence of opportunities for action with a leadership that is willing to take advantage of those opportunities. We should also recognize that not only are emotional responses often key factors in the decision-making process, such responses may also be predictable. High-stress situations, for example, impact on cognition, narrowing the range of alternatives seen, and in extreme cases lead to the breakdown of the scanning process (Holsti, 1990). Moreover, in some instances emotional responses such as empathy and fear may reinforce rational behavior. In 1956, Eisenhower almost singlehandedly made the decision not to intervene in Hungary. Pulling the issue off the agenda of the National Security Council, where he would be confronted with proposals for direct action, he consulted with his brother, Milton, looked at a map of Eastern Europe, and decided that intervention would be militarily counterproductive and risk the danger of war with the USSR (Kitts & Glad, 1993). Kennedy’s ability to empathize with Khrushchev during the Cuban missile crisis in the fall of 1962 was crucial to the peaceful outcome of that crisis. At the critical EXComm Committee Meeting of October 27 (Blight, 1987–1988), Kennedy was the one person who kept bringing the group back to the view that the Russians might really see a parallel between the U.S. missiles in Turkey and Soviet missiles in Cuba, that they would not back down if the United States did not make some concessions to their feelings along these lines. THE IDIOPATHIC AND THE NATURAL SCIENCES The notion that by studying the idiopathic aspects of political leadership we put ourselves at odds with the natural sciences is not borne out by recent development in the natural sciences. The world, as Karl Popper (1982) and Almond and Genco (1977: 492) have noted, is made up of clocks and clouds and a system of “plastic controls.” The latter, as they point out, is based on the recognition that any complex phenomenon contains certain unique characteristics, as well as generalizable factors. Certainly this is recognized in astrophysics, geology, and biology. Astronomers, for example, explain the development of the cosmos in terms of interactions between general laws and specific contingencies. The universe expanded and cooled and then reached the point where hydrogen atoms could form and the universe become essentially transparent. Radiation in the universe as a consequence could travel long distances without being reabsorbed (see Alvarez et al., 1980; Pasachoff, 1989; Silk, 1979). Even physics and chemistry, as Popper has pointed out, require a knowledge of contingent (i.e., improbable) events in the past. Bohr’s theory of the periodic system assumes that the properties of the nuclei of the heavier elements actually result from “a rare process which makes several hydrogen nuclei fuse into heavier nuclei, under conditions which are

Political Leadership: Some Methodological Considerations

15

only rarely encountered in the cosmos” (Popper, 1982: 142–43). Indeed many physicists have begun to note the irregular side of the universe— its discontinuities and unpredictabilities. Chance events, as chaos theorists have noted, influence the fall of a drop of water or the route of a snowflake. Even though these discordances are minor, they can, over time, create overwhelming differences in final outcomes.6 In biology, Crick (1988: 96) notes that the genetic code could have had “almost any structure since its detail would depend on which amino acid went with which adapter.” The patterns that emerge are the result of an interaction between certain process rules and accidental combinations. Evolution theory has been characterized by similar developments. Harry Whiting’s reexamination in 1971 of the fossils discovered at the Burgess Shale in British Columbia in 1909 put contingency into the center of the evolutionary process. The Shale contained 20 to 30 types of arthropods that were destroyed by a massive destructive event 530 million years ago. In one quarry, no longer than a city block, a range of diverse, complex anatomic designs existed that far exceeds the range in modern life throughout the entire world. As a consequence of these findings, traditional notions of biological evolution—that later more complex forms were but branches springing from a central trunk—were called into question. The new theory suggests that accidents led to massive removals of several possible lines of development, with differentiation occurring within the few surviving stocks. “Alter an early event, ever so slightly and without apparent importance at the time, and evolution cascades into a radically different channel” (Gould, 1989: 25–26, 46–62, 51, 236–38).7 Indeed most successful inquiry, in the natural as well as the social sciences, involves both description and movement of some sort up and down the generalization scale, with tradeoffs at each level of analysis. As Sartori (1970) has pointed out, taxonomic classification must precede quantification and measurement. Thinking begins with qualitative articulation in language, and via continuous conceptual refinement leads to the variables employed in quantitative studies. One also has to realize that there is a price to be paid for “conceptual stretching.” To attain an ever greater degree of generalization, one has to drop out additional details that describe the units contained in the class they are assigned to. Vague and indeterminate concepts, when quantified, produce poor or trivial results. The ideal is to be able to move up and down the ladder of abstraction, focusing most of the time on medium levels of abstraction. THE CASE STUDY AS A STRATEGY FOR INQUIRY For the study of the significance of a leader’s intentions and real-world constraints in turning-point events and/or other idiopathic aspects of

16

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

political world, case studies are particularly useful. Where the subjects are “bound together in a complex web of unique interrelationships” and mutual interactions, Erlandson et al. (1993: 16, 32–33) point out that we can use “thick description” and other techniques to develop working hypotheses. As empirical investigations, Yin (1989: 23) argues, case studies enable us to look into phenomena in context, using a multiplicity of sources for evidence. Case studies, as scholars in the foreign policy and comparative politics have pointed out for some time, are also useful in the development of broader scientific theory.8 Thus, as Eckstein (1975) has pointed out, we can use case studies of the actions of individuals to develop or test hypotheses. Certainly this is true in the hypotheses building stage. Immersing oneself in the history and the details of an object of inquiry suggests relationships that one would not see aside from that immersion. The primatologists Stuart and Jeanne Altman, for example, were only able to explain the apparently anomalous behavior in which one female baboon under attack from a male would be defended by another female baboon because they had earlier named and followed individual baboons. The attacked baboon, it seems, was aided by her own daughter. This enabled the Altmans to delineate the importance of kinship patterns in baboon communities (Campbell, 1995).9 At times, it is even fruitful to engage in after-the-fact “thought experiments.” Scholars who have studied the Cuban missile crisis after the fact know something that the decision makers at the time did not know—that the confrontation did not lead to war. Because of this knowledge, they can claim that Kennedy and some of his key aides had subsequently overdramatized their fears of war at the time. But, if we place ourselves back in Kennedy and McNamara’s shoes, not knowing the outcome, we can appreciate their fear. Moreover, if we look at how they acted in the face of that fear, we can focus on phenomena ignored in much of the literature on decision making: thus we may conclude that fear, as James Blight argues (1990: 7, 30–31), played both a profound and productive role in the peaceful resolution of that crisis. It was the emotion that “produced the learning required to escape the predicament without a war.” Case studies also lend themselves to the testing of theories developed in other contexts. Thus works of Jervis (1970, 1976) and Janis (1983) on the role of stress and cognition in decision making have been tested via case studies by Larson (1985), Lebow (1981), Glad (1989), and others. Moreover, the ostensibly idiopathic worldviews and character structure of a given leader usually fit some sort of mold. If such a person is widely honored and educated in institutions typical of a class of decision makers, his views can be assumed to be typical of others. Proofs along these lines have been used (Glad, 1966) to suggest that Charles Evans Hughes’

Political Leadership: Some Methodological Considerations

17

worldview was widely shared by those members of the eastern seaboard elite that dominated foreign policy in the first two decades of the twentieth century. Comparative case studies are particularly useful for theory building, providing us with “natural experiments” in which we can select our problems in accord with the variables we wish to consider.10 Within a culture, for example, we may look at one individual in several different settings. Thus Jimmy Carter’s decision-making style can be shown to depend on the time of and type of decisions he dealt with, as well as his personal motives (Glad, 1979). Or a political role may be held constant when the behaviors of different incumbents who have held that role are compared. James David Barber’s (1972) work on the impact of presidential character and personality on role performance was a pioneering work along these lines. (See also McConahay’s (1950) study of South Carolina legislators.) Glad’s work on the role of the chairmen of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee from 1924 to 1974 is another example.11 Comparisons across cultures are certainly a requisite to any establishment of more general “laws” of political leadership. Restricting oneself to the study of the American president or the leaders in the Soviet Politburo can only provide us with laws that are culture bound. But the problems in operationalizing such cross-cultural studies are obvious. The complexities of such undertakings may overwhelm us if we do not restrict our inquiry in some way at the outset. One way to gain some focus is to define particular types of leader and choose individuals from several cultures to delineate these types. In Leadership, for example, James M. Burns (1978) identifies clear distinctions between transformational and transactional leadership in several cultures via detailed case studies. Building on this work, I have explored the relationships between transformational leaders (one tied in some way to the old order, the other to the one coming into being) in two cultures—the former Soviet Union and South Africa. Gorbachev’s problems in reforming the Soviet Union, it seems, were compounded by Boris Yeltsin’s inflammatory rhetoric and divisive policies. The specter Yeltsin held out of a new order, in which all the value of the old one would be renounced, made it more difficult for Gorbachev to bring the Communists along with him (Glad, 1996; Glad & Shiraev, 1999a, 1999b). In South Africa, by way of contrast, de Klerk as the representative of the old order was able to bring most of the Afrikaaners along with him because Mandela as the representative of the new order assured the majority of whites that they would have a legitimate place in the new order he was pushing (Glad, 1996; Glad & Blanton, 1997; also Glad & Shiraev, 1999a, 1999b). Tyrants, too, seem to manifest certain common traits across cultures. The self-destructive behavior that so many of them engage in when they reach the acme of

18

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

their power can best be understood in terms of the impact of absolute power on a narcissistic/malignant personality structure (Glad, 1998). Others students of political leadership have managed to deal with cross-cultural phenomena by looking at a variety of responses to one important political event. Thus several area specialists in Kellerman and Rubin (1988) contrast the differing responses of American, Soviet, and several Middle Eastern heads of state to Israel’s invasion of Lebanon in 1982. The complex interplay between the individual motivation, skills, and policy commitments of each leader relative to the opportunity structure in which he has to operate is admirably summarized by specialists in the bargaining process. Employing a more institutional approach, Anthony King (1993) examines the differing power capabilities of chief executives in nine democratic polities to influence policy within their polities. Assessing the resources available to the chief executive (in terms of such variables as security in terms of service, control over appointments, influence over the legislation) he concludes that the American president is only at the middle of the power continuum, or possibly even below it. “PROOF” IN THE NATURAL SCIENCES AND POLITICAL LEADERSHIP The proofs we employ do not always follow a simple formula. Prediction is often times not possible for turning-point events and other historical phenomena. “The issue of verification by repetition,” as Stephen Jay Gould (1989: 278) notes, “does not arise because we are trying to account for unique details that cannot, both by laws of probability and time’s arrow of irreversibility, occur together again.” Nor can we interpret complex combinations by simple reduction to more basic laws. These events certainly do not violate any basic principles of physics, but they occur in a realm of contingent details.12 Even the proofs for general theories—when they deal with the complex and contingent—always require inductive processes and synthetic reasoning. Darwin called this kind of proof “consilience.” The theory of evolution was built on such a process. No other explanation could coordinate the disparate data from embryology, the fossil record, vestigial organs, taxonomic relationships, and other such sources (Gould, 1989: 282). In short, evolution theory tied together, in an economic way that did not contradict the larger body of scientific knowledge, the diverse and abundant material Darwin was trying to understand. Attempts in the social sciences to explain other complex phenomena will consist of similar “tests.” As George and McKeown (1985) have explained, the proofs we rely on for the analysis of an individual’s character or decision-making processes reside in the discovery of patterns

Political Leadership: Some Methodological Considerations

19

that correspond to a more general body of social science knowledge. For the building of narrower general theories, disciplined comparative studies are the rule. Thus one can abstract to particular variables (for example, deterrence behavior and its consequences) in a variety of cases to test limited propositions (George, 1979b).13 Our confidence in our explanations will be the greatest when many independent sources converge (i.e., through the process of triangulation) to buttress the explanation. The objective of the kinds of analyses delineated here is not to force a choice between the structural factors that frame a leader’s choice—or his values, skills, and personality. Our goal should be to build bridges between the various levels of analysis. By including leadership as one of the factors in our analysis we “increase the determinacy of the explanation” as Deborah Larson (1985) has noted. In the foreign policy realm, for example, “to increase the determination of the explanation, we must move to more specific levels of analysis—the domestic policy context and the individual policy makers.” We can also provide some kind of coherence in an admittedly complex field of study by clarifying the broader frameworks within which our specific inquiries fit. For example, Brewster Smith (1973: 76) has suggested a classificatory scheme that provides order to the complex forces that must be dealt with in biographical investigations. We should also delineate where our work fits into the common questions we seem to be asking. Are we looking at how political leadership varies in accordance with cultural expectations, role definitions, specific situations, and personality characteristics of key decision makers? Past work along these lines has focused to a great extent on the following: the relevance of a leader’s style and personality to his management system and processes (Burke, Greenstein et al., 1989; Johnson, 1974; Neustadt, 1960); the capacity of a leader to learn from past experiences (Etheridge, 1985; Glad, 1990; Glad & Taber, 1990); and the ways in which he or she relates to political intimates (Garrison, 1999; Glad & Link, 1996; Link & Glad, 1994; Marvick, 1981). Eventually, as Janis (1989) has suggested, we may be able to develop a complex theory delineating the personality characteristics most likely to lead to good or flawed policy making. Given the nature of this kind of inquiry, one may not find automatic concurrence among experts as to the one best possible explanation.14 But this does not set off leadership studies from the natural sciences. Indeed, as Donald Campbell pointed out in 1975, “all scientific knowledge is indirect, presumptive, obliquely and incompletely corroborated at best” (quoted in Almond & Genco, 1977: 512). Thus astronomers have debated for years over the age of the universe, over the nature of the materials in that universe, and whether or not it is open or closed (Pasachoff, 1989). In evolution theory, the traditionalists have had a long continuing debate with the punctuated equilibriumists over whether or not changes result

20

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

from steady accumulations of small modifications or occur through jerks, even during periods of environmental constancy.15 THEORETICAL OBJECTIVE: COMPLEX THEORY The end result of our individual and collective inquiries is not apt to be a few simple general rules of political leadership from which everything else can be derived. Rather the result will be a mosaic—a complex body of theories in which we answer some of the questions noted above. This approach may lack the elegance and simplicity that we find in certain basic laws of physics. But in other natural sciences such as biology, as Francis Crick (1988: 138–39) has noted, the search for grand abstraction has not proved that useful. Herbert Simon (1985: 301), despite his early distrust of psychology, has addressed the situation as follows: A hope of finding our “three laws of motion” was probably a major part of the appeal of rational choice theory in its purer forms. But a more careful look at the natural sciences would show us that they, too, get only a little mileage from their general laws. Those laws have to be fleshed out by a myriad of facts, all of which must be harvested by laborious empirical research. Perhaps our aspirations for lawfulness should be modeled upon the complexities of molecular biology—surely a successful science, but hardly a neat one—rather than upon the simplicities of classical mechanics.

In conclusion, the study of leadership in political science has been impeded by textbook notions of science that see the discovery of abstract laws as the only legitimate form of inquiry. But in the social sciences, as in the natural sciences, some of the most important facts to be explained are historical in nature—that is, a particular set of contingencies coming together and changing a significant line of development. Even the discovery of more general and abstract laws requires some naturalistic inquiry. Grounding in the phenomenon which one wishes to understand is requisite to useful classification making and productive hypothesis building. Ultimately, the kinds of proofs offered will vary with the nature of the inquiry undertaken. For an analysis of complex phenomenon, the discovery of patterns that tie together otherwise unexplained phenomena may be the only possible proof. When the goal is the discovery of simpler general laws, mathematical analysis may be the most productive. But one process does not fit all inquiry. “In ‘good’ science,” as Almond and Genco (1977: 510) have pointed out, “methods are fitted to the subject matter rather than subject matter being truncated or distorted in order to fit it to a preordained notion of ‘scientific method.’ ” Certainly the study of political leadership involves the study of clouds and clocks,

Political Leadership: Some Methodological Considerations

21

intentions as well as broader objective constraints, and a broad understanding of this fact would contribute to the development of theory in the field of political science.

NOTES 1. Major books include Alexander and Juliette George’s (1956) work on Woodrow Wilson; Gottfried’s (1962) analysis of Anton Cermak as mayor of Chicago; Edinger’s analysis of Konrad Adenauer (1965); Glad’s biography of Charles Evans Hughes (1966); and Erikson’s studies of Luther (1958) and Gandhi (1969). These were followed in the next decade by several other in-depth biographies: Tucker (1973) on Stalin; Waite (1977) on Hitler; Goodwin (1976) on Johnson; Glad (1980) on Jimmy Carter; and Greenstein (1982) on Eisenhower. In addition, Paige (1972) and Hollander (1964) produced major works contributing to general leadership theory. These would be followed later by the works of James M. Burns (1978) and Barbara Kellerman (1986). Indeed in the last 25 years 415 books under the specific title of “political leadership” have been catalogued. These include the important works by Bass (1985), Levinson and Rosenthal (1984), and Yukl (1998). 2. For example, the Sloan Management Review, between 1970 and 1989, carried 87 articles on leadership out of a total of 640 articles, that is, 14.6% of the total. In the Folia Primatologica, the leading primate journal of that profession, 70 articles out of a total of 315 published between 1963 and 1981 dealt with leadership patterns among apes—22.2% of the total. 3. The statistics on the publications on leadership in the journals cited were prepared by Christopher Dolan, a graduate student in the University of South Carolina. 4. Other reasons for the resistance to psychological interpretations of leaders are developed in detail in Glad, 1973 (see also Glad, 1991). Contemporary objections to the use of depth psychology, however, ignore the clear evidence in the experimental literature that human beings process information at an unconscious or preconscious level as well as at the conscious level. See Nisbett and Wilson (1977). 5. For the stress on generalization in political science see especially Almond and Genco (1977: 498–511). 6. As Gleick (1988: 20) notes, “For small pieces of the weather—and to a global forecaster, small can mean thunder storms and blizzards—any prediction deteriorates rapidly. Error and uncertainties multiply, cascading upward through a chain of turbulent features, from dust devils and squalls up to continent size eddies that only satellites can see.” What this means is that the ability to predict weather as any particular point of time is very limited. Beyond two or three days, best forecasts are “speculative,” and beyond six or seven days they are practically “worthless.” 7. Moreover, the various designs of the fossils discovered offered no clear evidence that the “losers in the great decimation were systematically inferior in adaptive design to those that survived.” Rather, the decimation seems to have been a true lottery (Gould, 1989: 25–26, 236, 238). This does not mean, however,

22

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

that evolution is senseless, or without meaningful patterns. Contingent geological events, Gould suggests, simply present different rules for survival. Traits that enable an organism to flourish in one period could become the cause of extinction in another. Traits with no significance at one period of time—“ones that had just hitchhiked along for the developmental ride as a side consequence of another adaptation”—could hold the key to survival at another time. 8. As Lijphart (1971) has pointed out, case studies, in so far as the number of variables considered are reduced and the number of cases increases, can come to resemble the statistical method in political science. 9. The Altmans’ baboon studies (Campbell, 1995) suggest the ways in which such complexity may be handled for human beings. The Altmans developed genealogical charts for the baboons, took photos identifying each animal, noted the nutritional values of a wide variety of plants upon which the animals fed, and located range and sleeping locations. Research associates would be given these materials when they arrived at the research site and would take copious notes on their observations. In addition to the discovery of female kinship patterns, they discovered the mind-boggling ability of the baboons to exercise selectivity in their food choices, without obvious instruction. From an everchanging array of opportunities presented to them in their environment, they selected nutritious items. 10. For a more detailed description of the method of difference in several similar case studies see van Evera (1997: 68). 11. Though the role expectations of the chairmen of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee remained fairly constant from 1924 to 1974, the eight chairmen who held that position during this period of time differed in terms of how they performed in the role. Borah and Fulbright were policy innovators; Vandenberg, George, and Connally were policy conformers who met the work and stylistic requirements of the role; Pittman and Green were maladaptive role performers— persons who did not meet all the work requirements associated with the office (Glad, 1969, 1986). When this approach was supplemented by in-depth studies of each individual, the roles performance differences could be related not only to policy differences but to underlying personality characteristics. 12. In selecting leaders for study, we should be clear about when individual personality traits matter the most. Fred Greenstein, for example, argued back in 1969 (republished 1987) that personality is apt to be an important and highly explanatory variable, not only to the understanding of specific events but as the basis for further generalizations under the following conditions: when the actor is highly placed in the political hierarchy, when important values are at stake, and when his ego defenses for one reason or another are evoked (Greenstein, 1969: 63–119). We also need to think about how we can operationalize the major variables we must deal with in individual cases. Runyan (1982) has provided some guidelines along these lines. Alexander George (1986) has shown us how personality characteristics such as the power motive could be operationalized. 13. In a recent work van Evera (1997: 56) has suggested that case study theories can be tested in three ways: controlled comparison (using comparative observations across cases), congruence procedures, and process tracing. For design of controlled comparison studies see George (1979b: 43–68).

Political Leadership: Some Methodological Considerations

23

14. Even quantitative and experimental studies, as Porterfield (1941: 147) has pointed out, can lead to many apparently opposite results. Only a close and careful look at the techniques used can lead the impartial observer to some idea of which study is the better one. 15. For the view that the latter have won the debate, see Lewin (1986).

Chapter 3

Motivation and Political Leadership David G. Winter

INTRODUCTION Among American presidents, success is a complex amalgam of many elements: skills, leadership style, a cooperative Congress and public, and of course, considerable good fortune. Among the most important factors, however, are the president’s motives. Motives (and similar concepts involving goal direction) refer to the ends or purposes for which personal skills and resources of congressional support and popular goodwill be mobilized and directed. Motives, as conscious or implicit (i.e., nonconscious) representations of desired states, are an important element of personality (Winter, 1996), but they are also elusive and difficult to measure. Ordinary people often find it difficult to unearth their real motives; among political leaders, motives are even more deeply buried under layers of self-deception, dissimulation, and outright cover-up. Moreover, most high-level political leaders cannot be studied directly, either because they do not make themselves accessible to researchers or because they are dead. To measure the motives of political leaders, therefore, psychologists employ at-a-distance assessment procedures, typically involving content analysis of leaders’ words (speeches, interviews, letters, writings, and so forth).

THREE MOTIVES In this chapter, I show how three major human motives—the drives for power, achievement, and affiliation—can be measured at a distance in American presidents, and then illustrate how they are related to a

26

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

variety of presidential actions and outcomes. Of course a full account of presidential personality would also include measurements of many other elements, such as traits (Simonton, 1986a, 1988), cognitive structures and style (Hermann, 1983; Suedfeld, 1994), and skills (Greenstein, 2000). Further, the data in this chapter are drawn from only one type of leader (presidents), in one political culture (American constitutional democracy). Nevertheless, the results to be presented may offer some more general hypotheses about political leadership that could be studied in other political systems (cf. Schmitt & Winter, 1998). The power, achievement, and affiliation motives are theoretically and empirically independent. They are scored on the basis of systems developed through experimental arousal of the motive in question (see Winter, 1991, 1998b), systems that were originally applied to Thematic Apperception Test stories written by individuals. Table 3.1 gives a brief summary of the kinds of verbal images scored for each motive, as well as typical actions that have been shown to be related to that motive in several decades of laboratory and field research (see Smith, 1992; Winter, 1996, ch. 5). The achievement motive is related to moderate risk-taking and using feedback to modify performance. Achievement-motivated people are rational negotiators, and seek information and help from technical experts. In contrast, affiliation-motivated people are cooperative and friendly, but only when they feel secure and safe; under threat, they can become prickly and defensive, even hostile. They seek help and advice from friends and similar others. Finally, power-motivated people engage in a variety of “impact” and prestige-seeking behaviors. If they are also high in responsibility, their power-seeking is pro-social and involves successful leadership; but if they are low in responsibility, their power-seeking reflects a pattern of “profligate impulsivity”—drinking, multiple-drug use, exploitative sex, verbal and physical aggression, and other high-risk behaviors.1 Building on the original study of Donley and Winter (1970), Winter (1987) scored power, affiliation, and achievement motive imagery in the first inaugural addresses of all elected American presidents from Washington through Reagan. Since the first inaugural is the president’s first official statement in office, it is a kind of “blank page” or tabula rasa for the expression of presidential aspirations and goals. Thus inaugural addresses are an appropriate source of material for scoring the motives of presidents. Although the absolute levels of imagery for each motive in presidential inaugurals may be quite different from those of other kinds of verbal texts (e.g., interviews or Thematic Apperception Test stories), the inaugural address is a standardized situation, such that scores should be reasonably comparable across presidents.2 Table 3.2 presents these

Table 3.1 Behavior Correlates of the Achievement, Affiliation, and Power Motives

Table 3.2 Motives of the Presidential First Inaugural Addresses, 1789–2001

Source: Based on Winter (1987), with scores added for G.H.W. Bush, Clinton, and G. W. Bush, with all scorers restandardized. Vice presidents who were not elected (and therefore inaugurated) in their own right are not included.

Motivation and Political Leadership

29

scores, now extended to include first inaugurals of George H. W. Bush in 1989, Clinton in 1993, and George W. Bush in 2001. MOTIVES AND PRESIDENTIAL LEADERSHIP Several studies have related the inaugural-based measures of presidential motivation to performance, including measures of overall leadership and specific presidential outcomes. Measures of Overall Leadership Table 3.3 presents the relationship between motive scores and several different overall assessments of presidential leadership. Winter (1987) used data collected by Maranell (1970), who obtained ratings of the presidents through Lyndon Johnson, along several different dimensions, from 571 historians. Since ratings of “general prestige,” “strength of action,” “presidential activeness,” and “accomplishments of the administration” were all highly intercorrelated, Winter summed standard scores along these four dimensions to get a single dimension of rated greatness. He also used the study of Morris (1967) to construct a variable reflecting whether the president had made “great decisions”—decisions that had historic impact on the country and the world. Data from these two measures are reported in Table 3.3. Drawing on memoirs and retrospective accounts by members of the presidents’ cabinets, House, Spangler, and Woycke (1991) constructed measures of charismatic behavior and charismatic effects. These are standardized and summed into a single measure of presidential charisma in Table 3.3. Finally, Greenstein (2000) recently carried out an extensive comparative analysis of 11 presidents (Franklin Roosevelt through Clinton) along six dimensions: effectiveness as a public communicator, organizational capacity, political skill, having a consistent overarching vision, having a strategic cognitive style, and emotional intelligence. With assistance from Greenstein (Greenstein, personal communication), these comparative descriptions were reduced to three-point rating scales on each dimension. Table 3.3 reports data based on an overall assessment (mean of standardized scores on the six separate dimensions) as well as on the individual dimensions. As shown in the table, power motivation is significantly related to three of the overall measures of presidential performance and leadership: the historians’ ratings of greatness (from Maranell, 1970), making “great” decisions, and being charismatic. “Great” presidents, then, appear to be presidents with a strong power motive. However, the overall measure of Greenstein’s evaluation was unrelated to power motivation, and negatively (and quite significantly) related to achievement motivation, as

30

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

Table 3.3 Motives and Leadership Performance Among U.S. Presidents

⫹p ⬍ .10; *p ⬍ .05; **p ⬍ .01. a Based on Winter (1987) b Based on House et al. (1991); figures in this row are standardized regression coefficients. c Average of ratings for “effectiveness as a public communicator,” “organizational capacity,” “political skill,” “overarching consistent vision,” “strategic cognitive style,” and “emotional intelligence” (see Greenstein, 2000, passim; also Greenstein, personal communication).

was the charisma measure of House et al. (though not as significantly). This divergence may be due to Greenstein’s use of new evidence and “revisionist” standards for evaluation,3 as well as the relatively small number of presidents he studied. None of the motives, however, is related to the president’s electoral success as measured by percent of the popular vote, as shown in the table. Winter (1987) demonstrated that electoral success is a function of the congruence between the presidents’ motive profile and that of

Motivation and Political Leadership

31

American society at the time, and is unrelated to the later judgments of greatness made by historians. Examination of the correlations of motive scores with Greenstein’s specific dimensions, shown in the bottom of the table, may help to clarify these results. While presidents scoring high in power motivation tend to be rated as effective in public communication (consistent with the measure of “charisma” in the upper part of the table), they also tend to lack a “strategic” cognitive style. That is, while they can “rally the troops,” they are not always able to see to the heart of problems and so they may find themselves in difficult situations. Thus Greenstein (2000) quotes Eisenhower as recognizing in 1954 that “this [French] war in Indochina would absorb our troops by the divisions!” (p. 52), whereas Kennedy, seven years later, plunged ahead with rhetoric and actions into the Bay of Pigs and the jungles of Vietnam. Presidents scoring high in achievement motivation appear to lack political skill and emotional maturity, as well perhaps as organizational capacity. Measures of Specific Qualities and Outcomes The more specific measures of presidential leadership qualities and outcomes shown in Table 3.4 further clarify these overall relationships. Power-motivated presidents tend to fit Barber’s (1992) “active positive” character type. That is, they are active while in office and enjoy being president. As a result, Barber claimed, they are emotionally healthy and flexible problem solvers. White House reporters rate power-motivated presidents as having both combative skill and also a sense of humor (Shearer, 1982)—seemingly an ideal combination of characteristics for a head of government in a democratic political system. Examples include Franklin Roosevelt and John F. Kennedy. Achievement-motivated presidents, in contrast, fit Barber’s “activenegative” type. That is, they are active but emotionally unsatisfied— perhaps even emotionally flawed—in office. Energetically driven (in the view of historians) by idealism, and unable to derive much pleasure from the political process of combative give-and-take, they may become frustrated and rigid when encountering opposition. As a result, their presidency often comes to grief. Examples include Woodrow Wilson, who refused to compromise on ratification of the Versailles Treaty; Richard Nixon, who kept an “enemies list,” permitted a variety of illegal actions directed against these enemies, and rigidly persisted in trying to maintain a cover-up of these actions until he was forced to resign; and Jimmy Carter, who approached the presidency in 1977 with great aspirations and high goals, but whose administration ended in a fog of frustration, “malaise,”4 and defeat.

32

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

Table 3.4 Motives and Leadership Outcomes Among U.S. Presidents: Political Style

⫹p ⬍ .10; *p ⬍ .05; **p ⬍ .01; ***p ⬍ .001. a Based on Maranell (1970); also Winter (1987). b Based on Barber (1992). c Based on Shearer (1982).

As shown in Table 3.5, presidential power motivation is associated with U.S. entry into war, while the affiliation motive predicts arms limitation, but also involvement in political scandals. Perhaps the connections between power motivation, war, and rated greatness suggest an evolutionary origin of the power motive; alternatively, such a power– war connection may perhaps be specific to Western contexts of political leadership and images of power; in Asian cultures, for example, power might draw on different images and be associated with more pacific outcomes of conflict (see Pye, 1985). Affiliation-motivated presidents are drawn to establish close relations with others, and so are disposed to reduce armaments; in the domestic context, however, such a disposition to cooperate and “go along” with others can easily make them vulnerable to exploitation by these same others. As Warren Harding, an affiliation-motivated president whose name was synonymous with presidential scandals (at least until Watergate), is reputed to have said, “God protect me from my friends.” Achievement and Frustration in Political Leadership The presidential data suggest, then, that high achievement motivation—at least by itself, unless it is balanced with high power motiva-

Motivation and Political Leadership

33

Table 3.5 Motives and Leadership Outcomes Among U.S. Presidents: Peace and Scandals

*p ⬍ .05; **p ⬍ .01. Source: Based on Winter (1987).

tion—is associated with failure in politics. McClelland’s (1961) landmark studies show that achievement motivation predicts success in one kind of leadership: as an entrepreneur, especially in small “research and development” enterprises or other situations and climates that allow personal control and responsibility. In the present context, the question is why a motive that predicts entrepreneurial success has such a different effect in the political arena? Why should achievement-motivated political leaders display rigidity, while achievement-motivated entrepreneurs are willing to use feedback? As an example, let us analyze the presidency of Jimmy Carter, who scored quite high in achievement motivation but only a little above average (especially for twentieth-century presidents) in the power motive. What went wrong with Carter’s presidency, and what did his achievement motivation have to do with it? The rhetorical question that Carter used as the title of his 1976 campaign autobiography, Why Not the Best? (Carter, 1975), can serve as a convenient point of departure. First, in business (particularly a small business), achievement-motivated entrepreneurs who are in charge are usually in a position to actualize their personal vision of “the best.” In politics, however, different people have different ideas about what is “the best.” (This is true in oligarchic as well as democratic political systems.) That is, the leader’s own convictions are not enough; there are always other people, with their own constituencies and power bases, who have to be persuaded and cajoled; compromises must inevitably be made. “The best” must give way to “the possible.” To an achievementmotivated leader, who is concerned to reach the “one best solution,” such compromises may seem like “selling out.” Second, “the best” often costs too much, and so must be fought for and eventually scaled back. As the historian Merk (1967: 371) put it:

34

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

On the floor of Congress a [program and plan], attractively packaged . . . is opened. Its items are individually inspected. The price tags on them are read with dismay, especially those still to be paid; mislabelings and confused labelings . . . are detected and denounced. Members . . . begin throwing epithets and charges at each other. . . . The victory celebration ends; the fight over measures begins.

Finally, in politics “the best” usually has to be implemented by “less than best” officials—people whom the leader did not appoint, does not fully trust, and cannot remove from their positions. The problems of pure achievement motivation in politics can be summed up in the words of a political journalist (Wintour, 1999: 21): [It is] a relatively simple process to think up and launch a new policy. But in government there are interests groups to fix, budgets to agree, White Papers to publish, legislation to pass, pilot studies to implement and then sometimes many years before the impact is felt on the ground. It is altogether a slower and more grinding business.

Each one of these regular features of political life is aversive to a leader high in pure achievement motivation; together, they can be seen as causing the leader to die a little bit each day in office. To achieve in this “grinding business,” presidents whose power motivation is higher than their achievement motivation (for example, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Truman, Kennedy, Reagan) often find ways around these problems. Indeed, these difficulties may not even be experienced as “problems,” but rather as what makes political life interesting. Presidential power motivation is probably linked to a whole series of political skills. For example, Roosevelt dealt with the problem of uncooperative subordinates by assigning the same task to several different people, which put him in the position of judge of everyone’s performance, so that officials often competed to win his favor (see Burns, 1956). And the findings about sense of humor, reported in Table 3.4, suggest that powermotivated political leaders are able to take pleasure from the process of politics—maneuvering, “schmoozing,” compromising, trading—as well as from its results. In contrast, presidents whose achievement motivation was higher than their power motivation (for example, Wilson, Hoover, Lyndon Johnson, Nixon, and Carter) seem to be worn down by the process of implementing the lofty goals with which they began their administrations. They may be tempted to go over the heads of their political and legislative colleagues and appeal directly “to the people” (as did Wilson, until a stroke crippled his body and his presidency), to cut moral and legal corners (as did Nixon, until he was forced to resign), or to micro-manage (as did Carter, until he was defeated in his 1980 bid for re-election).

Motivation and Political Leadership

35

The case of Lyndon Johnson is especially interesting as an illustration of the perils of achievement motivation in politics. Johnson was noted for his powers of political persuasion, especially behind-the-scenes persuasion. But in the judgment of George Reedy (1982), his longtime aide and press secretary, Johnson was “pragmatic” and “achievementoriented,” rather than driven by power (p. 7). “Everything he did was designed to achieve a goal” (p. 156). He “could not see the purpose of public debate, which he regarded at best as unnecessary and always as . . . disruptive of progress.” He “could not grasp the role of public debate in securing popular assent to policies” (p. 7). Perhaps Johnson’s political skill only worked when (like successful achievement-motivated entrepreneurs) he was in a position where he was fully “in charge”; for example, as Senate majority leader, or during the period of national grief after the assassination of Kennedy. At any rate, to even his closest advisors he seemed to be a cruel, abusive bully (Reedy, 1982: ix–xv passim). With the rise of a globalized economy, political system, and culture, politics in many regions may come increasingly under the sway of corporate leaders, whose training has been in the entrepreneurial domain rather than in the political arena. They are often driven by a desire to short-cut the “frustrations” or “quagmire” of politics, in order to “turn the country around” and “get things done.” Often they are not elected. Thus in a sample of 30 world leaders of the 1970s, those four who came to power by means of a coup d’etat5 fit this pattern: they scored significantly higher than average in achievement motivation, but not in power motivation. Contemporary examples of this type would likely include national leaders, often with successful corporate experience, who have turned to politics in a spirit of impatient reform and desire for rapid economic growth; for example, Alberto Fujimori of Peru, Vicente Fox of Mexico, Lee Kuan Yew of Singapore, and perhaps even the American Ross Perot, who ran unsuccessfully for president and founded the “Reform” Party (see Winter, 1995). The study of such leaders suggests that latent authoritarianism may be a kind of “shadow” of achievement motivation in politics—a shadow that could well lengthen in an era when traditional political institutions are being supplanted by the supranational structures of globalized market capitalism: for example, the bankers of the European Union, who introduced the euro currency without any real democratic consultation, and the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank.6 MOTIVATIONAL CASE STUDIES OF SOME AMERICAN PRESIDENTS Case studies of three U.S. presidents from the latter half of the twentieth century—John F. Kennedy, Richard Nixon, and Bill Clinton—illustrate how motive scores obtained at a distance can be used as part of

36

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

intensive studies of individual leaders. These lead into some brief predictions about the first president of the twenty-first century, George W. Bush, based on a motive profile of his inaugural address. John F. Kennedy: Motives, Threat, and the Use of Presidential Time Winter (1991) scored 19 major speeches and the first 13 press conferences of President John F. Kennedy. The speeches fall naturally into two groups: “threat” speeches, composed and delivered under urgent time pressure as immediate responses to specific threats (racial incidents in the U.S. South, or the crises over Berlin and Cuba), and “nonthreat” or general speeches, such as the State of the Union messages or speeches on specific occasions. On theoretical grounds, the threat speeches should be higher in power motive imagery, both because threats generally raise power motivation (Winter & Stewart, 1978: 398) and also because these speeches were intended to arouse public response to the threat. As shown in Table 3.6, these four speeches are in fact significantly higher in power motivation and lower in achievement imagery than the other 15. Kennedy’s spontaneous responses to questions at his first 13 domestic press conferences (January 25 through July 19, 1961) were also scored for motive imagery.7 Do these scores accurately reflect Kennedy’s changing activities during the early weeks of his presidency? Using information from the president’s official appointment books at the Kennedy Presidential Library, Kennedy’s schedules on the two business days before and two business days after each press conference day were then classified and aggregated to give an indication of how Kennedy spent his working time during the period surrounding each press conference. Table 3.7 presents the relationships between these categories of time use and Kennedy’s motive imagery. If power motivation is related to Barber’s “active-positive” category, as shown in Table 3.4 above, then those times when Kennedy’s power motivation is relatively high should be times when he enjoyed the job more and so worked harder and longer. As shown in Table 3.7, the higher Kennedy’s power motive imagery, the earlier he arrived at the Oval Office, the longer was his total working day, and (perhaps as a result) the longer his mid-day breaks (usually for lunch, a nap, or swimming) in the living quarters of the White House. In terms of use of working time, power motivation is associated with time spent giving speeches, formally unscheduled time, and time spent in scheduled visits of friends. The first two activities are consistent with earlier laboratory research findings relating the power motive to visibility and autonomy, respectively, in power-motivated men (see Winter, 1973: 133, 182–84).

Motivation and Political Leadership

37

Table 3.6 Motive Imagery Differences Between “Threat” and “Nonthreat” Presidential Speeches by John F. Kennedy

For purposes of scoring, speechs were divided into 15-second time units, each of which is scored for presence or absence of motive imagery. b Report on the Berlin crisis (6/25/61), Cuban missile speech (10/22/62), report on situation at the University of Mississippi (9/30/62), report on civil rights and situation at the University of Alabama (6/11/63). c Inaugural address (1/20/61), State of the Union messages (1/30/61, 1/11/62, 1/14/63), address to Latin American diplomatic corps (3/13/61), message on urgent national needs (5/25/61), report on European trip (6/6/61), United Nations addresses (9/25/ 61, 9/20/63), address on nuclear testing and disarmament (3/2/62), commencement address at Yale University (6/11/62), report on the national economy (8/13/62), commencement address at American University (6/10/63), address on the test ban treaty (7/26/63), and address on the test ban treaty and tax bill (9/18/63). a

Source: Based on Winter (1991).

Spending Oval Office time with friends may reflect the pleasure that power-motivated people take in cultivating a loyal nucleus of devoted, nonthreatening followers (Winter, 1973: 114). Are these findings an artifact of external threats? During times of threat presidential power motivation does seem to be higher (see the analysis of speeches presented in Table 3.6 above), and it is reasonable to suppose that external threats also lead the president to work longer hours. Two of these first 13 press conferences were held during times of special threat (April 21, 1961, shortly after the Bay of Pigs fiasco, and June 28, 1961, during the Berlin crisis), and omitting these from the analysis leaves the results reported in Table 3.7 substantially unchanged. In fact, the correlation of total duration of working day with power imagery rises to .65 (p ⬍ .05), while that with achievement imagery becomes ⫺.48. Thus the way in which Kennedy spent his day seems in part a reflection

38

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

Table 3.7 Relationships Between Presidential Motive Imagery in Press Conferences and Schedule of Presidential Time on Adjacent Days

⫹p ⬍ .10; *p ⬍ .05; **p ⬍ .01. a For purposes of scoring, press conference responses were divided into 15-second time units, each of which is scored for presence or absence of motive imagery. Source: Based on Winter (1991).

of his changing motive states rather than an artifact of external threats he faced at the time. Achievement motivation imagery, on the other hand, is associated with later arrival at work and shorter noontime breaks, perhaps reflecting an efficiency orientation and even a slight distaste for the work of the presidency (consistent with the finding reported in Table 3.4 that achievement-motivated presidents tend to be active-negatives). Explaining Richard Nixon The motive scores for Nixon’s 1969 and 1973 inaugural addresses, expressed in both raw and standardized form, are shown in Table 3.8. His profile is high achievement and affiliation, and average power motivation. Although individual motive scores may change over time, the similarity of the pattern for both years suggests that this motive profile was reasonably stable. Is this Nixon motive profile valid? Winter and Carlson (1988) validated it against Nixon’s everyday behavior, gathering evidence for motive-

Motivation and Political Leadership

39

Table 3.8 Motive Profile of Richard Nixon Based on His Inaugural Addresses

Standardized on sample of first inaugural addresses of 34 presidents (Washington through Reagan); overall M ⫽ 50 and SD ⫽ 10.

a

Source: Based on Winter and Carlson (1988).

related behavior from the published record of Nixon’s own autobiography, other major biographies, and the memoirs of his principal associates who worked most closely with him and presumably knew him best. First, they compiled a systematic inventory of all reasonably wellestablished behavior correlates of each motive, consisting of a total of 65 specific behaviors or background characteristics. Then, they selected books by and about Richard Nixon, including his own two autobiographies (Nixon, 1962, 1978/1979) and the memoirs of six former close aides who worked directly with Nixon during his presidency and who continued to have positive or at least neutral feelings about him. Each of these sources was carefully searched for facts or comments about Nixon’s enduring behavior patterns. The resulting lists of Nixon behaviors were then matched with the list of motive correlates. Table 3.9 summarizes the record of confirmations, disconfirmations, and inconclusive evidence for the 65 behavior correlates. Eliminating cases where the evidence was inconclusive, Nixon shows almost all of the correlates of the achievement and affiliation-intimacy motives, as would be expected by his very high scores on those two motives. He shows only some correlates (slightly fewer than half) of the power motive, as would be expected by his average score. This impressionistic summary can be expressed in more quantitative and testable terms if we assume that the percent of motive-related behavior correlates displayed by any given person will be roughly equal to that person’s motive score, expressed in percentile terms. Using the Chi-square test as a measure of goodness of fit between expected and obtained proportions, we find in this case no significant departures from such an expectation, as shown in the right-hand column of Table 3.9. In other words, for each motive, Nixon’s behavior (percent of motive cor-

40

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

Table 3.9 Actual versus Hypothesized Motive-Related Behaviors of Richard Nixon

Probability of the difference between the proportion of behavior correlates of a motive actually confirmed and the proportion that would be expected to be confirmed, assuming that the percent of behavior correlates confirmed is equal to the person’s percentile motive score. b ns ⫽ not significant. a

Source: Based on Winter and Carlson (1988).

relates shown) fits what would be expected on the basis of his percentile score for that motive. A Motivational Analysis of the Clinton Presidency A motivational analysis can perhaps explain some of the tortuous path of Bill Clinton’s presidency. Both in the 1992 campaign and in his 1993 first inaugural address, Clinton clearly scored higher in achievement motivation than power (Winter, 1995). (Based on these scores, he most closely resembled Lyndon Johnson and Jimmy Carter.) Such a motive profile was clearly displayed in the early fiasco of health care reform: a panel of “experts,” meeting in secret, produced a 1,342-page document covering every feature of health care. Without paying any attention to politics and the arts of power—that is, the skills of recognizing possible obstacles, alliances, and powerful stakeholders in the status quo; of holding public interest, and of rallying public support through exhortation and compelling images—Clinton’s health care team apparently expected to win a simple, single up-or-down vote. Such a style is more characteristic of the “command and compliance” corporate world, in which an achievement-motived leader, situated at the top of a hierarchy, has a relative untrammeled path toward the “single best way.” Even Clinton’s “Slick Willie” image, referring to his tendency to change views and modify positions, can be seen as reflecting the tendency of achievement-motivated people to modify their performance on

Motivation and Political Leadership

41

the basis of the results of previous actions.8 His retreats on health care, his withdrawals of contested appointments, and his acceptance of the Republican framework for welfare reform, as well as his more centrist agenda in 1995–1996, all reflect the avoidance of extreme risks and the use of feedback that are characteristics of achievement motivation. During his first term, then, Clinton’s motives predisposed him to the risks and vulnerabilities characteristic of achievement motivation in a political context. Clinton’s often indecisive and ever-changing policies led to erosion of domestic and foreign alliances, as the administration got bogged down in the frustrating morass of politics. The Republicans swept the 1994 mid-term elections. As Greenstein (2000: 180) put it, “No other first-term president since Truman in 1946 had been so crushingly repudiated.” Suddenly, however, a “new Clinton” emerged after the Republican shutdown of the government in the winter of 1995–1996. Clinton skillfully challenged and attacked the Republican-controlled Congress. His prospects for re-election, once dismissed as hopeless, steadily rose during 1996 and culminated in a decisive victory. With a strong economy and attractive presidential policy proposals, Clinton’s popularity soared, going even higher after his impeachment by the House of Representatives (Greenstein, 2000: 182–84). What happened? In motivational terms, Clinton’s power motive scores steadily rose during 1994–1996, the last three years of his first term (Winter, 1998a), as illustrated in Figure 3.1. For example, the ratio of powerto-achievement images increased from 1.19 in his 1993 State of the Union message to 2.03 in his 1996 message. Many features of Clinton’s second term are consistent with this change: for example, the bombings of suspected terrorist sites in the Sudan and Afghanistan, as well as the Clinton-led NATO bombing campaign against Serbia; and Clinton’s improved political skills of maneuver, compromise, and persuasion. Even the “breathtaking recklessness” (Greenstein, 2000: 182) of his sexual relationship with Monica Lewinsky (which apparently began after the change toward power in Clinton’s motive profile) can be understood as part of the “Don Juan” or exploitative sexual style often associated with male power motivation (see Winter, 1973: ch. 6). Clinton’s presidency, then, can be characterized as an initial two years in which his achievement motivation (with its associated vulnerabilities) predominated, followed by six years in which his power motivation (with its associated accomplishments and vulnerabilities) was ascendant. The Motive Profile of George W. Bush George W. Bush’s inaugural scored average in achievement and very high in affiliation and power motives. From this profile, one might predict that Bush will enjoy the presidency and demonstrate greater political

42

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

Figure 3.1 Bill Clinton’s Achievement and Power Motives over Time

effectiveness than some might expect (high power and below-average achievement). In making decisions, he may rely on small, secluded groups of close friends and advisors, and might be vulnerable to scandals arising from their excessive influence (high affiliation). In foreign affairs, he may endorse more aggressive policies (high power), particularly on Iraq, depending on which camp of his foreign policy advisors comes to have the most influence over him (see Lemann, 2001).

MOTIVATION AND PRESIDENTIAL LEADERSHIP The three motives for achievement, affiliation, and power thus appear to play a major role in presidential style and leadership. Each motive influences the presidents’ perceptions and construals of the presidency and their leadership situation, their sources of satisfaction and frustration, and their response to incentives. Each motive is complex, in the sense that it involves both advantages and liabilities: peacemaking but vulnerability to scandal (affiliation), vision but vulnerability to frustration (achievement), and charismatic mobilization but recklessness and aggression (power). A motivational prescription for effective presidential leadership would therefore involve some degree of balance: balance between achievement and power concerns, balance or tempering of power

Motivation and Political Leadership

43

with responsibility or similar forms of control, and balance among the benefits and liabilities of affiliative concerns. FUTURE DIRECTIONS IN ASSESSING LEADERS’ MOTIVES Application to Leaders in Other Cultures While most of the research described in this chapter involves American presidents, the motive imagery scoring system has also been used to assess some non-American (and even non-Western) leaders. For example, Winter (1980) scored interviews and press conferences of 22 varied leaders from southern African countries (heads of government and cabinet ministers, opposition leaders, and nationalists) in the mid-1970s. He found that the resulting scores predicted other variables, such as rated predisposition to use violence, in ways that were consistent with the studies of American presidents. Schmitt and Winter (1998) assessed the motives of five general secretaries of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union (Lenin, Stalin, Khrushchev, Brezhnev, and Gorbachev) by scoring their “report” to the first party congress after their selection as general secretary. The results suggested that the scores thus obtained were valid reflections of the leaders’ motives. The interview-based study of 30 mid1970s world leaders described above (see note 5) included many heads of government from western Europe, but also some from Asia, Africa, and Latin America. Finally, Winter’s (1997) comparative study of motive imagery in escalating and peacefully resolved crises included speeches, diplomatic documents, and broadcast transcripts from a variety of different countries, from the 1840s to the 1990s. All these studies suggest that the motive imagery scoring system is valid for assessing leaders from a variety of different nations and political cultures, and can be applied across a variety of different kinds of verbal material. The fact that the materials in these cases had been translated into English before scoring also suggests that the motive imagery scoring system is “robust” with respect to translation across languages. Nevertheless, these issues of type of material and application across languages deserve further, more systematic study. Multivariate Personality Assessment Motives, which refer to the direction and goals of behavior, are but one kind of personality variable (see Winter, 1996, especially ch. 1). In addition, there are traits, which refer to the stylistic (or “adverbial”) quality of behavior,9 and cognitive structures and style. Each of these different kinds of variable can affect all the others. For example, power

44

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

motivation is expressed very differently, depending on other variables such as sense of responsibility (Winter & Barenbaum, 1985), self-control, or conscientiousness, as well as background contextual factors such as culture or social class. Affiliation motivation is channeled very differently in extraverts as compared with introverts. Thus while some useful understanding and predictions can be made from knowledge of a leader’s levels of motive imagery, consideration of motives in combination with other personality variables can result in fuller and better understanding and predictions (see Winter, 1996: 659–73 for a discussion and examples). Political psychologists have developed at-a-distance techniques for measuring traits (Rubenzer et al., 2000; Simonton, 1986a, 1988) and cognitive structure (Hermann, 1987b; Suedfeld, 1994). Winter et al. (1991b) demonstrated such multivariate assessment in a comparative assessment of Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev and U.S. President George H. W. Bush. Some Limits of Assessing Motives and Personality While the results reviewed in this chapter are promising, some humility is in order. It would be foolish to suggest that motives are the only important psychological variables affecting leaders’ behavior, or that they determine behavior regardless of situational factors. To illustrate: while there may be a general relation, among American presidents, between power motivation and war entry, Franklin Roosevelt’s relatively high power motivation was certainly not “the” cause of America’s entry into World War II. On December 8, 1941, the day after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, neither Roosevelt nor the American Congress had any real alternative. (Still, Roosevelt’s power motivation probably did play a role in the escalation of U.S.–Japanese conflict during the months and years leading up to the Pearl Harbor attack.) The comparative Gorbachev–Bush study by Winter et al. (1991b) discussed above illustrates the perils and limits of motive and personality assessments of world leaders. Their original assessments were written June 1990. Since Bush scored high in affiliation and only average in power motivation, they described him as a “peacemaker, concerned with development and not prone to seek political ends through violence and war” (1991b: 237), though they did also note Bush’s impulsivity and tendency to react with anger (which may also derive from his high affiliation motive; see Winter, 1996: ch. 5). A few weeks later, Iraqi president Saddam Hussein invaded and annexed Kuwait, Bush had proclaimed that “this shall not stand,” and the long slow march to the Gulf War had begun. On January 17, 1991, this affiliation-motivated president began a devastating (if mercifully short) war. What went wrong with the predictions? Were they indeed actually wrong? After all, Winter

Motivation and Political Leadership

45

et al. had noted many aspects of Bush’s personality—his distrustful nationalism, the themes of danger and conflict in his “operational code,” and his tendency toward impulsive action—that were practically the script for Operation Desert Storm. (This illustrates the importance of assessing many different kinds of personality variables, as discussed above.) But what about that high affiliation motivation and war outcome? In a later follow-up article (Winter et al., 1991a), they re-examined the research literature about affiliation motivation and aggression, as follows: Under favorable and “safe” conditions, people high in affiliation and achievement motivation are indeed cooperative bargainers. Under conditions of threat, however . . . affiliation-motivated people are the least cooperative and the most suspicious and defensive bargainers. . . . Thus leaders with Bush’s motive profile are likely to be “peaceful” only when they are comfortable—that is, when they interact with similar people whom they like. . . . With dissimilar people, in contrast, [they] distance themselves and respond with dislike. Bush and Saddam Hussein differ in culture, social class, family background, religion, language, goals, interests, and personal style. . . . [The Iraqi invasion of Kuwait] seems to have precipitated a dramatic decline in Bush’s perceptions of Saddam Hussein’s similarity (hence increased dislike and distrust) and so engaged the “negative” affiliation cycle. (pp. 459–60; emphasis in original)

According to their reinterpretation, then, once Saddam Hussein had been perceived as an enemy (“another Hitler,” in Bush’s words), Bush’s high affiliation motive may actually have pushed him toward war rather than away from it. Having courted Saddam Hussein with military, economic, and intelligence assistance, Bush responded to the invasion of Kuwait with vindictive, personalized, impulsive aggression. Moreover, Bush’s behavior and policies during the Gulf crisis and war certainly did reflect his high affiliation motivation. For example, his decision to oppose the Iraqi actions emerged only after a meeting with an ally—British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. His war policy decisions were made in consultation only with a small, intimate group of advisors. His policy itself emphasized a broad coalition of world leaders, sustained through personal telephone contact. This example of George Bush and the Gulf War is useful for understanding what kinds of predictions about leaders’ behavior can and cannot be made on the basis of knowledge of their personalities. Could Bush’s actions have been predicted to lead to these outcomes in June 1990? Of course not. The Iraqi invasion of Kuwait was a surprise, certainly not predictable from any knowledge of Bush’s motives. What can be done, however, is interpreting and even predicting a leader’s responses, given a particular unpredictable event. Thus while the at-a-

46

Overview: Assessing Personality and Behavior

distance assessment portrayed Bush as a person who is disposed to peace and rational cooperation, it could also have specified the circumstances under which such a person would be likely to go to war. Such predictions are called contingent, conditional, or “if/then” predictions.10 They are of the following general form: that particular person X (or scoring high in motive X), under particular set of conditions Y, is likely to exhibit particular behavior Z. In contrast, absolute predictions simply predict that person X will carry out act Z without reference to the conditions or context. The most successful predictions of behavior from personality— whether they are predictions about presidential foreign policy, the actions of your closest friends, or your own plans for yourself—are likely to be of this conditional, rather than absolute, variety. Assessing motives, then, has an important but limited and contingent role in the advance prediction of the specific acts of specific individuals in specific circumstances. We cannot predict every outcome under every circumstance; but given some knowledge of motives and some information about other personality factors and the context, we can often forecast a rather narrow range of likely outcomes. Further, we can understand and interpret leaders’ actions after the fact. These are limited (but nevertheless important) goals of motive and personality assessment, for they can guide efforts to intervene and affect policies and outcomes. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS This chapter is based in part on talks given at the conference on “Emerging Issues in Psychology: International Perspectives,” held at Osmania University, Hyderabad, India (January 1999) and the Kravis-de Roulet Leadership Conference on “Multiple Intelligences and Leadership,” held at Claremont McKenna College (April 1999).

NOTES 1. Despite the presumptions of many psychologists and some widely cited early studies, there are no consistent sex differences in each of these three motives (see Stewart & Chester, 1982). 2. Two methodological problems must be mentioned. First, the nature of presidential inaugurations (hence inaugural addresses) has certainly changed since Washington’s first inaugural in 1789, due to changing rhetorical styles and the rise of the mass media. The inauguration of Wilson, in 1913, probably marks the beginning of the “modern” presidential inaugural address. Second, in recent decades inaugural addresses (like any other presidential statement) are largely composed by speechwriters. However, presidents choose their speechwriters; good speechwriters know how to write material that sounds “natural” when spoken by their client; and most presidents participate extensively in the construction and final editing of a speech as important as their inaugural. Thus the

Motivation and Political Leadership

47

inaugural scores may be a good guide to the motives of the president, or at least the collectivity of the president’s administration. 3. Thus, for example, Greenstein (2000: 44–45) rates Eisenhower higher and Truman and Kennedy lower (2000: 28–29, and 2000: 63–66, respectively) than did most historians 20 years ago, and many people today. 4. The phrase “national malaise” was not used by Carter, but was coined by presidential advisor Clark Clifford (1991) to characterize a speech Carter gave in the summer of 1979, after retreating to Camp David for several days to ponder a bewildering variety of national problems—notably the Teheran embassy hostages and the economic disaster of simultaneous inflation and rising unemployment. 5. Ernesto Geisel of Brazil, Samora Machel of Mozambique, Park Chung Hee of South Korea, and Jorge Videla of Argentina. 6. As the protestors at the Seattle meeting of the World Bank shouted, “Who elected you?” 7. Questions and answers after Kennedy’s June 2 speech in Paris were not scored because of the very different setting. Opening statements at press conferences were not scored on the grounds that they were prepared and not spontaneous. 8. It is also reminiscent of another achievement-motivated president nicknamed “Tricky Dick”; see Winter and Carlson (1988). 9. See Winter, John, Stewart, Klohnen, and Duncan (1998) for a discussion of the differences between motives and traits. 10. Wright and Mischel (1987) have argued that almost all personality variables are really “clusters of if/then propositions” (1987: 1159).

Part II

Quantitative Analysis: Contributions to the Study of Personality and Behavior

Chapter 4

U.S. Presidents as Conflict Managers: The Operational Codes of George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton Mark Schafer, Michael D. Young, and Stephen G. Walker

INTRODUCTION The operational code has a long and interesting history, and along the way it has generated several contributions to the study of foreign policy (Walker, 1990). One of the main criticisms of operational code analysis, however, has been that it depended too much upon subjective interpretation. Traditionally, operational code analysts read biographical materials, memorandums, personal journals, and secondhand accounts to try to understand the operational code of a leader. These endeavors, while rich and insightful, are not always objective, verifiable, or reliable. Many skeptics have pined for a more rigorous approach to identifying a leader’s operational code. We have been working on just such an endeavor. We start with the assumption that a leader’s attitudes and belief systems are reflected in his/her public comments and that by systematically analyzing those public comments we can identify answers to the instrumental and philosophical questions associated with the operational code. We use a content analysis coding scheme called the Verbs in Context System (VICS). Using VICS, leaders’ public speeches are coded according to self and other attributions that represent different forms of cooperative and conflictual behavior in the exercise of political power. The systematic observation of these relationships allows us to construct indices for each of the 10 questions formulated by Alexander George (1969) to delineate the operational code. Five of George’s 10 questions deal with a leader’s philosophical beliefs for diagnosing the political universe. We believe that these questions are

52

Quantitative Analysis

answered by indices made up primarily from the leader’s attributions to others. In other words, the way a leader speaks about others is the key to understanding the leader’s assessment of the political universe. George’s five philosophical questions are as follows: P-1. What is the fundamental nature of politics, political conflict, and the image of the opponent? P-2. What are the general prospects for achieving one’s fundamental political values? P-3. To what extent is the political future predictable? P-4. To what extent can political leaders influence historical developments and control outcomes? P-5. What is the role of chance?

The other five questions in George’s conceptual framework deal with a leader’s instrumental beliefs. These questions consider the leader’s beliefs about choices and the best way to accomplish political goals. We believe that these questions are answered by indices made up of the leader’s attributions to self. The instrumental questions are: I-1. What is the best approach for selecting goals for political action, (i.e., strategy)? I-2. How can such goals and objectives be pursued most effectively, (i.e., tactics)? I-3. What is the best approach to calculation, control, and acceptance of the risks of political action? I-4. What is the best “timing” of action? I-5. What is the utility and role of different means?

The core of operational code analysis has three dimensions with a common focus upon self–other relationships. They are what we call (1) diagnostic propensities (the five philosophical questions), (2) choice propensities (instrumental questions I-1, I-2 and I-5) and (3) shift propensities in the management of conflict and bargaining with others (instrumental questions I-3 and I-4). The leader exhibits these dimensions through positive and negative attributions to the self and others (see George, 1969, 1979a, 1980; Walker, 1990, 1993). We infer answers to the operational code questions by constructing indices that are informed by several literatures including information theory, locus-of-control research, strategic interaction, and social power (for a more thorough discussion of the auxiliary hypotheses that support the indices, see Walker et al., 1998). The indices are as follows:

The Operational Codes of George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton

53

Philosophical P-1. NATURE OF THE POLITICAL UNIVERSE. Index: % Positive Other Attributions minus % Negative Other Attributions. Index ranges from ⫺1 (conflictual) to ⫹1 (cooperative). P-2. REALIZATION OF POLITICAL VALUES (optimism/pessimism). Index: Mean Intensity of Other Conflict/Cooperative Transitive Verb Attributions for Scale with Values of ⫺3 ⫽ Punish, ⫺2 ⫽ Threaten, ⫺1 ⫽ Oppose, 0 ⫽ Neutral, ⫹1 ⫽ Appeal, ⫹2 ⫽ Promise, ⫹3 ⫽ Reward. To make the scale’s range comparable to the other indices, the mean is divided by 3 to obtain a range of ⫺1 (pessimistic) to ⫹1 (optimistic). P-3. PREDICTABILITY OF POLITICAL FUTURE. Index: [1 minus IQV], where IQV equals the Index of Qualitative Variation. “The index of Qualitative Variation is a ratio of the maximum possible number of different pairs of observations in a distribution with the same N [number of cases] and the same number of variable classifications” (Watson & McGraw, 1980: 88). Comments: .00 Lowest . . . 1.0 Highest Predictability. P-4. CONTROL OVER HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT. Index: Self Attributions divided by [Self Attributions plus Other Attributions]. Scale ranges from 0 (low control) to 1 (high control). P-5. ROLE OF CHANCE. Index: 1 minus [Predictability Index multiplied by the Control Over Historical Development Index]. Scale ranges from 0 (low role of chance) to 1 (high role of chance). Instrumental I-1. APPROACH TO GOALS (Direction of Strategy). Index: % Positive Self Attributions minus % Negative Self Attributions. Scale ranges from ⫺1 (conflictual strategy) to ⫹1 (cooperative strategy). I-2. PURSUIT OF GOALS (Intensity of Tactics). Index: Mean Intensity of Self Conflict/Cooperative Transitive Verb Attributions for Scale with Values of ⫺3 ⫽ Punish, ⫺2 ⫽ Threaten, ⫺1 ⫽ Oppose, 0 ⫽ Neutral, ⫹1 ⫽ Appeal, ⫹2 ⫽ Promise, ⫹3 ⫽ Reward. To make the scale’s range comparable to the other indices, the mean is divided by 3 to obtain a range of ⫺1 (conflictual tactics) to ⫹1 (cooperative tactics). I-3. RISK ORIENTATION (Diversity of Tactics). Index: [1 minus IQV] for Self Attributions. See the index for P-3 for a definition of IQV. Comments: .00 Risk Averse (Low Predictability) . . . 1.0 Risk Acceptant (High Predictability). I-4. TIMING OF ACTION (Flexibility of Tactics). a. Cooperation Versus Conflict. Index: Shift Propensity is 1 minus Absolute Value of [% Positive Self Attributions minus % Negative Self Attributions]. Scale ranges from 0 (low shift propensity) to 1 (high shift propensity). b. Words Versus Deeds. Index: Shift Propensity is 1 minus Absolute Value of [% Words minus % Deeds]. Scale ranges from 0 (low shift propensity) to 1 (high shift propensity). I-5. UTILITY OF MEANS. Index: Percentages for Transitive Verb Categories (Reward, Promise, Appeal, Oppose, Threaten, Punish).

54

Quantitative Analysis

This approach to the operational code was tested in a study of Jimmy Carter (Walker et al., 1998) using a sample of foreign policy speeches from his four years as president collected and coded for an independent project (Young, 1996). The results of that analysis provide reasonable support for the construct validity of our operational code indices. We found that Carter’s diagnosis of the political universe and choice of action were consistent across issue areas during the first three years of his term as president. Following the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan and the start of the Iranian hostage crisis, there were statistically significant shifts in his diagnosis of the political universe and his choice of political action. These results correspond to generally accepted characterizations of change in Carter’s foreign policy (Rosati, 1987; Sick, 1985; Skidmore, 1993). This chapter advances the research program by looking at the operational codes of Presidents George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton. As with the Carter project, we first describe the general operational code of each president and then look for patterns of change in their operational codes during their time in office. In addition, the data allow us to make statistical comparisons of the two presidents. We investigate the extent to which the leaders’ operational codes are different from each other and consistent across two political domains, international and domestic. METHODOLOGY We randomly sampled 16 speeches made by George Bush during his four years as president and 15 speeches made by Bill Clinton during the first three years of his presidency. Sampling frames were developed from public sources of presidential speeches and included only those speeches that contained at least 1,500 words (to provide enough data per speech to construct the operational code indices). Each speech was then coded using the VICS procedures. Space does not permit an extensive discussion of the coding procedures here (see Walker et al., 1997), but a brief description is appropriate. The recording unit is the verb-based utterance identified in context as a self utterance (I, us, we, the United States, etc.) or an other utterance (you, Israel, members of the opposing political party, Hussein, etc.). The verb is identified as a transitive or an intransitive verb and as a positive/cooperative or negative/conflictual attribution. If the verb is transitive, it is categorized as a word or deed and placed in the appropriate verb category; cooperative words in either Appeal/Support or Promise, cooperative deeds in Reward, conflictual words in Oppose/Resist or Threaten, and conflictual deeds in Punish. Finally, the utterance is identified as belonging either to the domestic or foreign domain. Coders spent on average six hours in training. They were tested

The Operational Codes of George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton

55

against pre-coded samples and discussed errors and disagreements. This process continued until intercoder agreement reached 90%, at which time the coders were assigned speeches from the sample. Throughout the coding process, we randomly sampled sets of 20 utterances from each coder and conducted intercoder reliability tests. These generally averaged about 90% agreement. If agreement dropped noticeably below this level, we identified and corrected any problems. The data can be analyzed in a variety of ways. In all cases, indices are computed based on compilations of utterances following the formulae noted above. We begin the analysis by aggregating the data sets across the entire time period for each leader to provide a description of the leader’s general operational codes. Then, we disaggregate the data into smaller units of analysis, namely the speech, which allows for regressionbased trend analysis and ANOVA (Analysis of Variance) comparisons between presidents and across domains. THE GENERAL OPERATIONAL CODES OF BUSH AND CLINTON On average, what were the operational codes of Presidents Bush and Clinton during the times under investigation? While analyzing Jimmy Carter’s operational code, we found that there were some statistical differences across time and across some issue areas. This suggests that the leader’s operational code may be somewhat malleable, evolve over time, or vary depending on the domain or issue area. Nonetheless, the changes for Carter, while statistically significant, were minor in terms of magnitude both across time and across issue areas. Carter’s operational code was characterized by a cooperative diagnostic propensity toward the political universe and by cooperative choice propensities for selecting and implementing foreign policy goals. This general continuity leads us to believe that there is an anchoring process associated with the operational code. Leaders have a “default” configuration that may change somewhat due to learning or situational variables. The default or average operational code can best be described by aggregating the largest amount of data available. The general operational codes of Bush and Clinton are presented in Table 4.1. There are some similarities in Bush and Clinton’s operational codes and there are some interesting differences as well. Bush views the political universe as definitely friendly (.54), quite a bit more so than Clinton (.28). In spite of his positive view of political others, Bush is a bit less optimistic about the potential to accomplish political goals (.39). Interestingly, while Clinton has a less friendly outlook on the political universe, he matches Bush’s level of optimism regarding political goals. Both presidents attribute similar, medium levels of predictability to oth-

56

Quantitative Analysis

Table 4.1 The General Operational Codes of Presidents Bush and Clinton

ers (.49 and .55, respectively), exhibit somewhat above medium levels of ability to control historical development (.57 and .60), and believe that the role of chance is high (.72 and .67). In terms of the instrumental questions, both leaders have a very cooperative approach to goals, although Bush’s is even more so than Clinton’s (.84 and .71). But in terms of tactics, the leaders score the same (.47 and .47). Bush’s tactical intensity is moderated by his greater reliance on cooperative words (Appeals and Promises) than Clinton, who complements his own cooperative words with a heavy dose of cooperative deeds (Rewards). This greater diversity of tactics indicates that Clinton

The Operational Codes of George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton

57

is more risk averse than Bush, although both are above the midpoint of the index (.75 and .63, respectively). Both show low inclinations to shift away from cooperative tactics (.15 and .23), and Bush also shifts only at a medium level from words to deeds, while Clinton is much more likely to diversify between words and deeds (.40 and .72). In the utility-of-means categories, it is interesting that both presidents rely foremost on Appeals, Bush more so than Clinton. Bush’s second choice is the other cooperative word category—Promises. But Clinton turns next to cooperative deeds (Rewards). Neither one relies very much on the conflict categories, although if Clinton moves to conflict, he is more likely to choose conflict deeds (Punish) than either of the conflict word categories (Oppose and Threaten). While these data are interesting and provide a general picture of the presidents’ operational codes, important analytical questions remain. Are the similarities and differences noted above statistically significant? Do the presidents have operational codes that differ in international and domestic venues? Is there continuity or change in the presidents’ operational codes over time? Each of these questions can be analyzed by disaggregating the general operational code elements by speech and domain. CONTINUITY AND CHANGE IN BUSH’S AND CLINTON’S OPERATIONAL CODES Did elements of the presidents’ operational codes change over time? As we reported elsewhere (Walker et al., 1996), Jimmy Carter viewed the political universe as less friendly (though still positive) later in his presidency (.68 versus .06), and he adopted a somewhat less cooperative approach to political goals (.73 versus .86).1 These changes occurred at the time of significant international turmoil for Carter, namely the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan and the hostage crisis in Iran. Prior to these events, Carter’s operational code was fairly stable. Both Bush and Clinton faced international crises as well (for example, Bush dealt with Panama, the Gulf War, Bosnia, Somalia, and others; and Clinton faced Bosnia, Somalia, Haiti, the Middle East, and others). Is there discernible change in the operational codes of these presidents? Two analytical methods are used to investigate trends in the presidents’ operational codes. Regression analysis, using the number of days in office as the independent variable and the speech as the unit of analysis, enables analysis of linear and curvilinear (second and third degree) trends. ANOVA, using the year in office as the grouping variable and the speech as the unit of analysis, enables analysis of annual trends in the presidents’ operational codes. The most dramatic finding in these alternative analyses is that each

58

Quantitative Analysis

president had operational codes that showed almost no patterns of change over time. Individual speeches varied from each other somewhat, but unlike the data on Jimmy Carter, there were almost no patterns of change for Bush and Clinton. George H. W. Bush Using regression analysis of the 17 different elements of the operational code, only three showed any significant trends over Bush’s four years as president. P-4, Bush’s control over historical development, decreased over his presidency in a linear manner that approached significance (p ⫽ .10).2 The two other elements that changed over time for Bush are in the Utility of Means Index transitive verb categories, and both show seconddegree curvilinear trends. Bush tended to use more cooperative deeds (Rewards) later in his term than he did earlier (p ⫽ .08). In addition, he tended to use fewer rhetorical conflict words (Oppose) (p ⫽. 03). Using ANOVA techniques, with year as the grouping variable and the speech as the unit of analysis, no statistically significant annual trends emerged in the data on Bush. Part of the reason for this is probably related to the small n: four speeches per cell.3 Nonetheless, two interesting trends in the data are worth noting. P-1 and P-2, the two main indicators of a leader’s view of the political universe, were stable for Bush during 1989, 1991, and 1992 and averaged .62 and .45, respectively. But in 1990, coinciding with the Gulf War, these indices fell off noticeably to .28 and .14. And corresponding to the results from regression analysis, the annual means reveal a decrease in Bush’s control over historical development (P-4) every year he was in office. Bill Clinton Even fewer statistically significant trends emerge for Clinton using regression analysis. In a second-degree curvilinear form, his propensity to use cooperative words (Promises) decreased over time (p ⫽ .002). In a third-degree curvilinear equation, Clinton’s propensity to use Rewards increased later in his presidency, after dipping somewhat in his second year. As with Bush, some interesting annual trends in Clinton are worth reporting, though they are not statistically significant using ANOVA procedures. He assessed the nature of the political universe to be less friendly (P-1), and he was less optimistic (P-2) in 1994. During that same year, his own strategies (I-1) and tactics (I-2) became somewhat less cooperative as well. Finally, in 1995, Clinton’s control over historical development (P-4) decreased, somewhat mirroring Bush’s pattern for this index.

The Operational Codes of George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton

59

Table 4.2 Operational Codes of Presidents Bush and Clinton by International and Domestic Domains

OPERATIONAL CODES IN INTERNATIONAL AND DOMESTIC DOMAINS Do the presidents differ in their assessment of and approach to politics in international and domestic domains? Table 4.2 lists Bush’s and Clinton’s operational code indices broken out by domain. Using MANOVA procedures, with the speech as the unit of analysis, we statistically analyze

60

Quantitative Analysis

these data as a two-factor design (President ⫻ Domain). With this design, there are three possible statistically significant outcomes: (1) a President main effect, which shows that the two presidents differed on that index (regardless of domain); (2) a Domain main effect, which shows that both presidents behaved differently in the domestic domain than in the international domain; and, (3) an interaction effect, which shows either that one president differed by domain but the other did not, or that the presidents differed within one domain but not the other. If the interaction term is significant, we report the appropriate simple effects analyses. Philosophical Indices While both presidents tend to diagnose the political universe as positive and friendly (P-1), there is a statistically significant main effect showing differences between them: Bush thinks of the political universe in friendlier terms than Clinton, F(1,42) ⫽ 6.80, p ⫽ .01. Neither president differs between international and domestic domains on this index. A different pattern emerges, however, in their level of optimism (P-2). Here, the presidents are similar to each other, but each is more optimistic about achieving political goals in domestic politics than in international politics, F(1,42) ⫽ 3.11, p ⫽ .09. The presidents differed in one other philosophical category. Clinton tends to see the political universe as more predictable than Bush, F(1,42) ⫽ 3.62, p ⫽ .06. Each president’s propensity in this area does not change across domains. In the remaining philosophical categories, Control Over Historical Development (P-4) and the Role of Chance (P-5), Bush and Clinton do not differ from each other statistically or in international and domestic areas. Instrumental Indices Both presidents tend to favor cooperative action as opposed to conflictual action in the instrumental indices. There are some differences, however, both between presidents and across domains. In I-1 (Approach to Goals), both presidents are inclined to choose friendlier policies in the domestic arena than in the international arena, F(1,42) ⫽ 4.02, p ⫽ .05, and between the two presidents, Bush is more cooperative than Clinton, F(1,42) ⫽ 5.05, p ⫽ .03. These differences disappear, however, in their tactical pursuit of goals (I-2), where there are neither differences between the presidents nor differences across domains. The interaction term is significant for I-3 (Risk Orientation), F(1,42) ⫽ 3.25, p ⫽ .08. Simple effects analyses show that Clinton has the same risk orientation in both international and domestic politics, while Bush is more risk acceptant in domestic politics than in international politics,

The Operational Codes of George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton

61

F(1,42) ⫽ 7.96, p ⫽ .007. The two other shift-propensity indicators also reveal some differences. Both presidents vary their use of cooperative and conflictual tactics less in the domestic domain than in the international domain (F(1,42) ⫽ 5.23, p ⫽ .03), but the presidents do not differ from each other on this index in either domain. They do, however, differ from each other in terms of their propensity to switch between words and deeds. Clinton is more diverse in his use of words and deeds than Bush, who is inclined to rely primarily on words F(1,42) ⫽ 16.90, p ⬍ .001. Both presidents are more diverse in the domestic arena than in the international arena in terms of words and deeds, F(1,42) ⫽ 3.41, p ⫽ .07. These differences in shift propensities are also reflected in five of the six Utility of Means categories. On average, Bush uses more Appeals than Clinton, F(1,42) ⫽ 7.95, p ⫽ .007, and both presidents tend to use more Appeals in domestic politics than in international politics. Both Clinton and Bush use similar levels of Promises in domestic politics, but in the international arena, Bush relies on them more than Clinton, F(1,42) ⫽ 9.74, p ⫽ .003. On the other hand, Clinton relies more on cooperative deeds (Rewards) than Bush in both arenas, F(1,42) ⫽ 17.76, p ⬎ .001. Neither president relies very much on any of the three conflict verb categories, but there are some differences worth noting. In the Oppose category, Bush is the same in both international and domestic domains, but Clinton makes more use of these conflict words in international politics than in domestic politics, F(1,42) ⫽ 5.16, p ⫽ .03. And in the Threaten category, the two presidents are similar to each other, but both make more threats in international politics than in domestic politics, F(1,42) ⫽ 8.35, p ⫽ .006. DISCUSSION There are several patterns that emerge from these data. In terms of differences between presidents, the most notable is that Bush has a more cooperative belief system than Clinton. This shows up in his propensity to diagnose the political universe as more cooperative than Clinton and in his predilection for more cooperative self actions.4 This assessment is interesting, particularly in light of two matters. First, Bush, of course, served as vice president under Ronald Reagan, who was a clear advocate of realist policies and oversaw the largest military buildup in a non-wartime period in the history of the United States. Second, Bush faced a very unfriendly and hostile opponent in Saddam Hussein during the Gulf War. How is it, then, that he shows such cooperative tendencies in his operational code? Bush’s behavior during the Gulf War might provide some anecdotal insight into this question. Clearly Bush viewed Hussein as the quintessential nemesis in international politics, even invoking the Hitler schema

62

Quantitative Analysis

on several occasions. But Bush also believed, even early on in the conflict, that the best way to deal with the situation was through coalition building—through cooperative international collaboration. His operational code suggests that, first, he assessed the political universe and believed that cooperation was possible and that, second, he chose cooperative coalition building as the best course of action. Indeed, Bush’s personal conduct during the Gulf War centered around constructing and maintaining the fragile international alliance against Hussein; he left the conduct of the war to the leaders of the military (Wayne, 1993). Clinton, while less so than Bush, also shows strong cooperative diagnostic and choice propensities. Indeed, Clinton’s international activities in Haiti and Bosnia mirror, to a certain extent, Bush’s precedent in terms of working with the United Nations and U.S. alliance structures to try to achieve goals. Where Clinton differs from Bush is primarily in style. Clinton tends to shift tactics more readily than Bush, effectively diversifying his repertoire of political acts. This shows up in a number of places in Clinton’s operational code. In the instrumental indices for example, although Bush pursues more cooperative policies in absolute numbers (as seen in I-1), Clinton essentially “catches up” to him when the intensity of those tactics is taken into account (as seen in I-2). This pattern is also reflected in I-4b, where Bush’s dependence on Words as tactics results in a lower diversity score. Clinton, on the other hand, complements his cooperative words with a strong dose of cooperative deeds (see I-5 Rewards), which results in a greater level of Word/Deed diversity than Bush (I-4b). To put this differently, Clinton does a better job of hedging his bets than Bush, a pattern for which there is some anecdotal evidence on Clinton, particularly in domestic politics. In terms of the two political domains, there are also some interesting patterns. In four of the five philosophical indices—the indices that demonstrate how a leader diagnoses the nature of the political universe— each president has the same propensity in the international arena as in the domestic arena. Each differs across domains on P-2, where both are more optimistic about realizing political goals domestically than internationally. But even here, while statistically significant, the absolute differences are small; in both domains the presidents are fairly optimistic. There are, however, several differences across domains on the instrumental indices—those indices that demonstrate leaders’ choice and shift propensities in the pursuit of political goals. They both choose more cooperative policies in domestic politics; both diversify word-deed tactics and cooperative-conflictual tactics more in the international arena; Bush is more risk acceptant in domestic politics than in international politics; and in the Utility of Means categories, they each tend to use more appeals in domestic politics and more threats in international politics. And

The Operational Codes of George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton

63

it is not due to beliefs about the locus of control, based on the ordering principles of hierarchy and anarchy associated with the domestic and foreign political domains. To sum up, the profiles of the two leaders that emerge from these comparisons reveal the influences of both self and situation. Aspects of their personalities are revealed in idiosyncratic differences in their philosophical and instrumental beliefs, which may have important effects in crisis situations where the impact of these differences is more likely to be important (Walker et al., 1999). On the other hand, similarities in their philosophical and instrumental beliefs for the domestic and foreign domains, respectively, suggest that the best model of decision making for these leaders is a “self-in-situation” perspective (Smith, 1968). Their agreement on more cooperative policies in the domestic domain and more conflictual policies in the foreign domain is consistent with the contrasting influences of the hierarchical order in the domestic political universe and the anarchical order associated with the international environment (Bull, 1977; Waltz, 1979). The statistical interaction effects reported between self and situation in the operational codes of the two presidents tend to reinforce this conclusion and underline the dynamic character of the relationship between leader and context. NOTES 1. We urge caution in comparing the Carter numbers to those of Bush and Clinton. Data collection procedures were significantly different (see Young, 1996 for an explanation of the procedures used to build the Carter data set). 2. All reported significance levels are two-tailed tests. 3. In a similar study, Crichlow (1998) did find important statistical differences between time periods (1970s and 1990s) for Yitzhak Rabin and Shimon Peres, even though he sampled on average only three speeches per speaker per time period. 4. This difference is mitigated, indeed changes somewhat, when the two presidents are operating strictly in the domain of international conflicts (see Walker et al., 1999).

Chapter 5

Motive Imagery and Integrative Complexity: Bill Clinton, George Mitchell, and the Northern Ireland Peace Talks Linda O. Valenty and Mary E. Carroll

INTRODUCTION Conflict resolution in Northern Ireland has involved high levels of stress in the decision-making environment, strong ideological and religious disputes among the decision makers, and the need to draft an agreement that is acceptable to all political elements involved in what has been the ongoing conflict. The current research describes and then applies motive imagery and conceptual/integrative complexity scoring systems to perform a content analysis designed generally to enhance understanding of the process of conflict resolution that resulted in the Good Friday Agreement in Northern Ireland, and specifically to analyze the role that American leaders played in that process. The environmental challenges in negotiations of this type present a unique opportunity to evaluate the interaction between conflict, integrative complexity, and motivational changes during high-level negotiations that accompany dramatic political conflict, disruptive stress, and ultimate agreement. Content analysis is used in an effort to further understanding of the contribution of motivation and conceptual/integrative complexity to the process of conflict resolution. Content analyses of motive imagery and integrative complexity, in their separate use, have provided analysts with additional insight into political behavior and strategy (cf. Hermann, 1980a, 1984; Tetlock & Boettger, 1989; Winter, 1991, 1992; and Winter et al., 1991b, for the motive imagery method; and cf. Tetlock & Tyler, 1996; Walker & Watson, 1992; and Wallace et al., 1996, for the use of the conceptual/integrative complexity method), how-

66

Quantitative Analysis

ever, they have rarely been used together (see Lavallee & Suedfeld, 1997; Suedfeld et al., 1990; Valenty & Shiraev, 2001). Each of the leaders that we evaluate here performed several common functions of international mediation. These include selecting issues, selecting parties, providing good offices, communicating each side’s views, reframing conflicts as problems, suggesting new options, raising the costs of failure to de-escalate, adding resources for settlement, helping to create parity, building trust and credibility, fostering reconciliation, and legitimating and helping to implement agreement (Kriesberg, 1996). Mediation is crucial to managing or resolving a “protracted conflict,” of which Northern Ireland is a prototype. Rothstein (1999: 6–18) suggests that the protracted conflict in Northern Ireland involves the characteristics found in all protracted conflicts. Major elements are (1) high mistrust and fear; (2) multiple-level bargaining—between parties and external patrons, parties and each other, and party leaders and domestic supporters; (3) socioeconomic segregation and inequality; (4) a large economic gap; (5) limited civil society supporting democracy; (6) religious conflict; (7) development by both sides of an “imprisoning historical perspective” justifying violence; (8) self-identification by both sides as embattled minorities; (9) possible replacement of hope for imminent victory by a “long-war” strategy; and (10) profound emotional intensity involving hatred, mistrust, and contempt, in addition to conflicts of interests. Third-party mediation and related economic and diplomatic support can help reduce many of these highly negative factors (e.g., lack of trust and inequality). Third parties can help weak local leaders extend an initial peace process, which both sides may have oversold (Rothstein, 1999: 19–20). Stedman (1996: 354) notes that, like development of detailed agreements, “external involvement in supervising, monitoring, verifying, and implementing the agreement” can reduce fear about settlements. Perhaps most importantly, mediation can help parties develop integrative solutions, which often require creativity and imagination (Rubin et al., 1994: 172)—properties which the syndrome of protracted conflict can severely undermine. According to Rubin et al. (1994), of the three outcomes of problem solving, “integrative solutions are almost always the most desirable. They tend to last longer and contribute more to the relationship between the parties and the welfare of the broader community than do compromises and agreements about how to choose the winner. In addition, they tend to diminish the sense of conflict” (p. 173). Means of arriving at integrative solutions include (1) expanding the pie by increasing available resources; (2) nonspecific compensation, by which one party gets what it wants and the other gets something else that it wants, possibly from a third party; (3) logrolling, whereby each

Bill Clinton, George Mitchell, and the Northern Ireland Peace Talks

67

party concedes on low-priority issues; (4) cost cutting, by which one party gets what it wants but costs to the other are reduced; and (5) bridging, by developing a new option satisfying major underlying interests (Rubin et al., 1994: 173–78). Clinton, Mitchell, and Blair variously and repeatedly contributed to the considerable extent to which the above functions were performed. But they could not have done so, at least not effectively, unless at least minimally favorable conditions existed. Before or early in the peace process basic events did occur which made peace possible, if still unlikely. Among the key developments were indisputable stalemate, reduced support among Northern Ireland Catholics for the IRA, the continuing drain of the conflict on Britain’s declining economic resources, development of the European Union (EU) and related eroding of traditional concepts of territorial sovereignty, and development of consociational theory. The conflict in Northern Ireland has involved two seemingly incompatible political goals: keeping Northern Ireland a part of the United Kingdom versus incorporating Northern Ireland into the Republic of Ireland. Not only have these two goals appeared to be mutually exclusive, they have been pursued by two historical communities distinguished largely by religion. Unionists, who seek to maintain their union with the United Kingdom, are overwhelmingly Protestant, mostly Presbyterian. Nationalists, who want Northern Ireland to join the Republic of Ireland, are overwhelmingly Catholic. Differences in religion and nationalist or unionist ideology have overlapped and interacted with one another, with distinctions based on ethnicity, native or settler origin, and orientations toward progress—all within complex systems of dominance, dependence, and inequality—so as to sustain communal conflict (Bew & Gillespie, 1999; Ruane & Todd, 1997). The course of the Troubles, 1969–1999, and the complex Irish peace process, 1968–1999, has involved political violence in the form of ethnonationalist communal conflict resulting in more than 3,500 deaths, 35,000 serious injuries, and 10,000 explosions (O’Duffy, 1995). The peace process itself featured aspects of integrative problem solving as well as traditional negotiating strategies. In fact, the Irish peace process has been notable for imaginative proposals, creative use of ambiguity, strategic redefinition of interests, success in introducing outside resources, and efforts to incorporate all parties by attending to at least their minimum needs. THE CONTEXT A brief chronology of recent events leading to the signing of the Good Friday Agreement would begin in 1988 when Social Democratic and La-

68

Quantitative Analysis

bour Party (SDLP) leader John Hume and Sinn Fein (SF) leader Gerry Adams launched an intermittent series of talks extending more than six years, opening avenues and thawing positions (Bew & Gillespie, 1999: 212–43). During 1991–1992, the British and Irish governments joined the four constitutional parties in Northern Ireland (Ulster Unionist Party [UUP], Democratic Unionist Party [DUP], SDLP, and moderate Alliance Party) in discussions about three sets of relationships—within Northern Ireland, between Northern Ireland and the Irish Republic, and between the United Kingdom and the Republic. In February of 1993, in the first of his many efforts to move the peace process along, new U.S. President Bill Clinton proposed to British Prime Minister John Major that he send a “peace envoy” to Northern Ireland. In January 1994, the Republic lifted its media ban on SF and President Clinton lifted the U.S. travel ban on Adams. On August 31, 1994 the IRA announced “a complete cessation of military operations.” Loyalist paramilitaries soon announced their own ceasefire. The IRA ceasefire permitted the British and Irish governments to set out broad directions for future negotiations in the Frameworks Agreement of February 1995. President Clinton dispatched former Senator George Mitchell to help move the peace process along, initially through investment discussions (Bew & Gillespie, 1999: 293–317; Darby, 1997). But the situation deteriorated. After supporting Orange marchers in a confrontation with police at Drumcree, David Trimble was elected leader of the UUP. Largely to encourage negotiations, President Clinton visited Northern Ireland in late 1995, and in January 1996 George Mitchell released a report seeking a way around the decommissioning impasse. The IRA ended their ceasefire on February 9, 1996 and subsequently bombed the London Docklands, citing as justification the failure to implement the Frameworks Agreement (Bew & Gillespie, 1999: 303–30). Instability continued until mid-1997 when Hume publicly demanded an IRA ceasefire. In May, the British Labour Party, traditionally less tied to the unionists than was the Conservative Party, took power. Tony Blair became prime minister and Mo Mowlam became secretary of state for Northern Ireland. Blair immediately visited Northern Ireland, and the British and Irish governments issued a joint paper on decommissioning in June. On July 20, 1997 the IRA renewed its ceasefire. Secretary of State Mowlam soon attested that the IRA was keeping the ceasefire well enough for SF to enter multiparty talks. It did so in September after signing the Mitchell Principles on decommissioning. Mitchell, who chaired multiparty talks, set an April 9, 1998 deadline for agreement. On April 6, he gave each of the parties his version of a possible draft agreement based on talks that had occurred prior to that time. Negotiations continued through the deadline (Bew & Gillespie, 1999: 346–59).

Bill Clinton, George Mitchell, and the Northern Ireland Peace Talks

69

On April 10, 1998 the major parties signed the Good Friday (or Belfast) Agreement. Basic elements included continued association of Northern Ireland with Britain as long as the majority in Northern Ireland wished; constitutional changes by Britain and Ireland; a new assembly with proportional representation and weighted voting so as to assure substantial support from both communities on important questions; a British–Irish Council with members from the Northern Ireland Assembly and the Irish, Scottish, and Welsh assemblies; cross-border entities; early release of prisoners; reform of the police force; and pledges to complete decommissioning of paramilatary weapons within two years after approval of the agreement by a majority of voters in Northern Ireland. The agreement would only go into effect if approved by a majority of voters in Northern Ireland and in the Republic. Mo Mowlam set May 22 as the date for the referendum in Northern Ireland. The Republic held a parallel referendum on the same day. Culminating years of negotiation, on May 22, 1998, 95% of voters in the Republic supported the agreement, as did 71% in Northern Ireland. There is a paucity of literature applying theories of political psychology to the Troubles or the peace process (see Mastors, 2000 for a brief analysis). Important but less directly relevant works in political psychology include studies of identity preferences among people in Northern Ireland by Neil Waddell and Ed Cairns, and by H. Beloff (Beloff, 1989; Waddell & Cairns, 1991). Gerry P. T. Finn has analyzed murals for justifications for political violence (Finn, 1997). John D. Cash (1989) has examined unionist ideology, and A. M. Gallagher (1986) has examined the ideologies and social identities of Northern Irish local political leaders. Otherwise, most recent work in political psychology examines the effects of the violence on ordinary people, their coping strategies, or the strategies of non-political organizations for ameliorating violence (e.g., Knox, 1994; McCormick, 1997; Morrow et al., 1994). DATA The data used to evaluate motive imagery and conceptual/integrative complexity for Clinton, Mitchell, Blair, and other key players in the process that led to the Good Friday Agreement derive from publicly available interviews, statements, and press conferences.1 Interviews, statements, and press conferences were selected as the running text from which to measure motive imagery and conceptual/integrative complexity so as to pull from a variety of sources and situations, thereby producing an assessment of motives and conceptual/integrative complexity that is more likely to be representative of the individual’s extemporaneous thought.

70

Quantitative Analysis

In an effort to hold time period constant, leaders were compared during the time period beginning approximately five weeks prior to the Good Friday Agreement and ending two weeks after the agreement was signed. Subject matter was also held constant, data were only scored if the subject matter was Northern Ireland. Each of the relevant time periods was evaluated by scoring all relevant interviews, statements, and press conferences and pooling the results within each time division (see Appendix 5.1). Motive data were then standardized across leaders and within motivation. The standardization procedure for all motive data utilizes a mean of 50 and a standard deviation of 10. This step allows for reliable comparisons across leaders and between time periods.

Methodology Motive imagery scoring systems have been used extensively to analyze verbal and written material (cf. Donley & Winter, 1970; Hermann, 1979, 1980a; Winter, 1995; Winter & Stewart, 1977; and Winter et al., 1991b, among others). The current study uses the integrated system developed by Winter for scoring motives in running text (see Winter, 1991, 1992, 1994). This method was developed to measure motive imagery labeled as achievement, affiliation/intimacy, and power. Motive imagery is scored in images per 1,000 words. A brief description of the three motivations would include (see also Hermann, 1987a; Winter, 1991, 1994): • Achievement: Concern with a standard of excellence in performance, goals, competition, and accomplishment. • Affiliation/Intimacy: Concern with establishing, maintaining, or restoring friendly relationships or affiliative activities, expression of positive, friendly, or sympathetic feelings toward other individuals or groups, and/or friendly, nurturant acts. • Power: Concern with control, impact, influence, prestige, or glory. The focus is upon outer effect rather than inner capacity and can include persons, groups, institutions, or countries.

Interviews, statements, and press conferences were also scored for conceptual/integrative complexity. Coders were trained using a comprehensive scoring manual and practice materials (Baker-Brown et al., 1992). With a foundation in Kelly’s personal construct theory, the conceptual/ integrative complexity scoring method results in a measure of cognition that is “essentially independent of the content of thought” (Suedfeld et al., 1990: 28). The conceptual/integrative complexity scores proceed along a continuum which measures emerging differentiation or the ack-

Bill Clinton, George Mitchell, and the Northern Ireland Peace Talks

71

nowledgment that there are different dimensions and/or perspectives regarding a particular issue, and then tracks the development of integration, or the understanding that there are interactions between these dimensions. Higher scores indicate that differentiation and integration are present (Suedfeld et al., 2001). Accordingly, the lowest scores on the variable’s continuum indicate rigid, unidimensional, value-laden perspectives and interpretations, while higher scores denote an increase in emerging tolerance for other viewpoints. The highest scores are reserved for communication that evaluates events from a global perspective—understanding and accepting alternate viewpoints while also discerning the way in which levels of the given problem or concept dynamically interact. Prior to scoring, data are divided into scoring units: the section of the text (in this case, the interview, statement, or press conference) that is devoted to a single idea (for a detailed analysis of the method see Suedfeld et al., 1992; Baker-Brown et al., 1992). A brief synopsis follows:

1. no evidence of differentiation or integration. 2. transitional, some evidence of emerging differentiation. 3. moderate to high differentiation, but no integration. 4. transitional, showing some evidence of emerging integration. 5. moderate to high differentiation and moderate integration. 6. transitional, indicating the emergence of an organizing principle, several levels of schemata, and an understanding that alternatives are dynamic. 7. presence of a global perspective regarding the nature of the relationship between multiple, specific, and embedded levels of the issue or event—high differentiation and high integration.2

Conceptual/integrative complexity is a measure of structure, not content. There is no presumption that higher scores are qualitatively better, represent a more complex argument, or more accurate position (BakerBrown et al., 1992). Subject matter in data to be coded was held constant to prevent possible interaction between topic and conceptual/integrative complexity score. Accordingly, the complete pool of interviews, statements, and press conferences dealing with the subject of Northern Ireland within five weeks prior to and two weeks after the Good Friday Agreement were identified. Four to five interviews, statements, and/or press conferences (depending upon resulting length) were chosen randomly from each leader’s available data during the time period in question, and all scorable units within each of the interviews, statements, and/or press conferences were coded. The grand mean of scores from the selections represents the complexity score for each leader.

72

Quantitative Analysis

Reliability Motive imagery was coded by a trained scorer who demonstrated category agreement of .85 or above with the calibration materials that had been pre-scored by experts for all three motives. Conceptual/integrative complexity was coded by trained scorers who demonstrated category agreement of .85 or above with calibration materials that had been prescored by experts and achieved an intercoder reliability rating of .9 for all materials. All disagreements in scores were discussed and resolved. Motive Imagery Although the time period since the Good Friday Agreement has produced a variety of changes in the political landscape of Northern Ireland—including the suspension of the newly created Northern Ireland Assembly in February 2000, the commitment to decommissioning by the IRA and subsequent restoration of the Northern Ireland Assembly in May 2000, and the start of IRA arms dumps inspections in June 2000— the current research has focused upon the critical events leading to the Good Friday Agreement on April 10, 1998. Thus, motive imagery is evaluated for key participants at the time of the Good Friday Agreement. The analysis begins with an evaluation of motivational imagery and then proceeds with an examination of conceptual/integrative complexity. Table 5.1 presents the motive imagery comparison across leaders. Power Senator George Mitchell (chair of the Peace Talks) had the highest power imagery at the time of the Good Friday Agreement, followed by Mo Mowlam and David Trimble. Both Mitchell and Mowlam were above the mean once scores were standardized within the power motive and across leaders. Trimble was at the mean. Hume’s power imagery was the lowest for the time period of the Good Friday Agreement, followed by Prime Minister Blair and former President Clinton. Adams’ score occupies the middle position among these leaders. Affiliation The highest affiliation scores were received by Hume, Blair, Clinton, and Mowlam, in that order. It is perhaps significant that Hume, Blair, and Clinton have the lowest scores for power imagery and the highest scores for affiliation imagery. Lowest affiliation scores go to Trimble, Adams, and Mitchell, in that order. Mowlam occupies the median among these leaders at this moment in time.

Bill Clinton, George Mitchell, and the Northern Ireland Peace Talks

73

Table 5.1 Motive Imagery Comparison Across Leaders

Each motive is standardized across leaders. The standardized scores are used to compare within motive and between leaders. 2 Conceptual/Integrative complexity scores are derived by averaging scores from randomly selected interviews, statements, and/or speeches. Sections must deal with one particular topic and continue until the leader has finished speaking about that topic. 1

Achievement The highest achievement imagery scores were received by Mitchell, Hume, Blair, and Clinton. Lowest achievement imagery scores were received by Trimble and Adams. Mowlam again occupied the median among these leaders.

DISCUSSION: MOTIVE IMAGERY It is apparent that Clinton, Blair, and Hume have similar motivational profiles, combining high scores on achievement and affiliation imagery with relatively low scores on power imagery. Mitchell’s profile shows an interestingly identical power and achievement score, with an affiliation score just below the mean. Both Adams and Trimble have relatively high scores on power imagery but the lowest scores on affiliation imagery and the lowest scores on achievement imagery. The high power motivational profile is generally associated with a proclivity for independence, confrontational foreign policy, and a crisis orientation (Hermann, 1980b; Winter, 1994), as well as exploitative tactics in negotiations (Winter & Carlson, 1988). Alternatively, a motivational profile with relatively high scores for affiliation is associated with cooperative behavior and conceptions of international interdependency.

74

Quantitative Analysis

High affiliation and average power imagery are associated with low levels of aggression, unless significant stimuli are present (Winter et al., 1991), as well as a concern with reducing international tension (Winter & Carlson, 1988). So here, even in the absence of other confirming information, content analysis of motive imagery may provide some evidence that Clinton, Blair, and Hume were more committed to the peace process and more cognizant of interdependency and the need for cooperation than either Trimble or Adams were. Hume’s influence on Adams may have provided a needed moderating effect over the years of negotiations, talks, and joint statements between the two. Mitchell appears to be driven by his need for both achievement and power; his affiliation imagery was slightly below the mean. With respect to ability to negotiate and mediate, high achievement imagery is generally associated with “great effort and expenditure of energy,” “persistence,” “superior performance and success, especially on complex problems,” and cooperation accomplished “on the basis of a rational maximizing of mutual interests” (Winter & Carlson, 1988: 86); while high power imagery is related to an active, forceful, and influential style, and effective organizational leadership through the creation of “a climate of clarity and high morale in subordinates” (p. 92). Mitchell’s doublepronged drive, if you will, may have been just the impetus the peace talks needed when they frequently stalled and were brought back on track by Mitchell. He was known to speak in terms of objectives and be determined to make progress, one of the hallmarks of an individual with high achievement imagery. At the same time he was ambitious enough to continue to work and to inspire others to do so, even when the achievements seemed somewhat compromised. Mitchell’s leadership style has been described as deliberate, inclusive, rational, detailed, driven by achievement, and characterized by the use of power as a means to that end. An observer of Mitchell as majority leader of the U.S. Senate once wrote, “For Mitchell, the power is not attractive unless it can be put to good use,” and Mitchell himself stated that “Being majority leader is not an end in itself, it is a means to an end” (Borger, 1990: 2). Power Minus Achievement Subtracting achievement from power clarifies the balance between these two motivations and allows a clearer evaluation of the likelihood that an individual leader will pursue excellence or perfection at the expense of negotiation—or, alternatively, will be motivated by personal ambition and the need for power at the expense of the “best” or ideal policy. Negative scores indicate that achievement colors the individual’s approach to problem resolution, while positive scores are predictive of

Bill Clinton, George Mitchell, and the Northern Ireland Peace Talks

75

Table 5.2 Power Imagery Minus Achievement Imagery Comparison Across Leaders

an individual who is motivated by power and will sacrifice the “best” policy in the interest of their own personal need for power. The standardized results in Table 5.2 indicate that the extremes were represented by Trimble, with the highest positive score, and by Hume, Blair, and Clinton—all of whom received negative scores. Mitchell is at an absolute zero in the raw score subtraction, indicating again that his personality is well suited to mediation—the likelihood is that he will neither sacrifice the best policy for personal goals nor focus only upon the attempt to achieve the best policy, refusing to compromise or negotiate if a less than perfect agreement is in the offing. Power Minus Affiliation Winter’s (1993) study indicated that an aggressive response to crisis is related to high levels of power motivation and low affiliation. The opposite configuration—low power and high affiliation—would then be related to a tendency toward peaceful resolution of crises. Table 5.3 clarifies this power and affiliation relationship for the leaders in the peace process. Negative power minus affiliation scores would indicate an orientation and in fact a drive toward peaceful resolution of conflict. Hume, Blair, and Clinton received negative power minus affiliation results, while Mitchell’s score was positive and the highest among those measured, indicating that Mitchell’s drive for achievement, when inextricably coupled with a need for power, moderates his low need for affiliation and may be important in his mediation ability. Trimble, Mowlam, and Adams also received positive scores on power minus affiliation imagery; of these only Mowlam has high achievement imagery. This similarity between Mowlam and Mitchell is of note, indicating that they both are

76

Quantitative Analysis

Table 5.3 Power Imagery Minus Affiliation Imagery Comparison Across Leaders

effective organizational leaders and inspire others, and although their power imagery is high, their concomitant drive to superior performance, success, and cooperation in an effort to maximize the resulting product provides a balance that is particularly effective in mediation and negotiation. The high power and low affiliation configuration for Trimble and Adams indicates that these individuals would be comparatively less concerned with the reduction of tension and more likely to respond aggressively when confronted with crisis. Conceptual/Integrative Complexity Conceptual/integrative complexity evaluations are uniquely suited for research that participates in the quest to understand the process of conflict and conflict resolution. Scores beginning at a “3” can be viewed as indicators of increased tolerance for ambiguity or conflict, as well as a willingness to acknowledge other viewpoints, and a reaction against absolutism. As scores continue to increase (a “4” for example), there is evidence that the leader has an understanding that groups may have to integrate their perspectives to achieve resolution. Finally, the highest scores indicate that the leader accepts that there is interaction between alternate ways of viewing the problem and that this interaction is dynamic, leading to an integrated solution (for a further discussion of this see Baker-Brown et al., 1992). Given that higher levels of integrative complexity indicate an acknowledgment and attempt to reconcile differing perspectives, it is of interest that Mitchell and Hume score higher than any of the other key participants in the Northern Ireland peace process culminating in the Good Friday Agreement. These scores suggest that both were processing information from a variety of perspectives and attempting to speak sub-

Bill Clinton, George Mitchell, and the Northern Ireland Peace Talks

77

stantively to the needs of the divergent groups they were courting in their quest for a resolution to the conflict. They each also would be expected to make some effort to explain the tension between and interdependence of alternate views. Clinton and Blair could also be described in this context as their (identical) scores approach the scores of Hume and Mitchell. Mowlam again occupies the median and perhaps her widely noted success in her role as secretary for Northern Ireland is due to the fact that she is, both literally and in terms of her personality, in the middle. Trimble and Adams received the lowest average scores for conceptual/integrative complexity, which when considered in light of each of their negative power minus achievement scores, indicates that their respective approaches to the negotiations were more rigid and value laden—similar in style, although from widely divergent and in fact antithetical policy viewpoints. Trimble, in particular demonstrated little effort to differentiate between perspectives and very simple right versus wrong analyses of issues. In a study focusing upon Soviet reformists during the late 1980s, Tetlock and Boettger (1989) found that reformist politicians scored significantly higher on the integrative complexity continuum than did more traditionalist leaders of the Communist Party. Here, it was Mitchell, Hume, Clinton, and Blair who received higher complexity scores and were in support of a reform agenda. Trimble and Adams received lower complexity scores and were often found to be attempting to adhere to more rigid positions regarding possible policy outcomes. Complexity scores also allow some insight into a leader’s response to stress and crises. Suedfeld and Tetlock (1977) use a “disruptive stress hypothesis” to explain the phenomenon of prolonged stress and reductions in complexity scores. They argue that high complexity requires an expenditure of internal and external resources, which can be depleted by long-term or severe stress. However, they indicate that some individuals are able to raise their levels of complexity and maintain these high levels during the stressful episode, and they maintain that these individuals are more successful at retaining political office. It appears that Mitchell, Hume, Clinton, and Blair may have this ability to meet to the occasion with needed cognitive resources, perhaps explaining their unusual stamina in the face of the protracted conflict resolution process. A value pluralism model would predict that these individuals were attempting to respond to multiple conflicting values and so were using integratively complex reasoning (see Lavallee & Suedfeld, 1997). The relatively lower scores achieved by Adams and Trimble are indications that their reaction to the stress of the negotiations was one of retrenchment rather than increased complexity, with a value system that was unidimensional. Complexity scores for these two leaders would pre-

78

Quantitative Analysis

dict that each would see his own values as being paramount, would be less likely to give credence to other conflicting values, and would be more likely to attempt to influence others to promote his own particular agenda. If we compare the relatively low complexity scores for Adams and Trimble to their high power and low affiliation imagery, it is apparent that the need for control and influence combines with relative intolerance of differing perspectives and rigidity in both position and response repertoire. Levels of conceptual/integrative complexity in these data were found to correlate significantly with achievement imagery (r ⫽ .96, p ⭐ .01) and affiliation imagery (r ⫽ .83, p ⭐ .05). Complexity was not correlated with power imagery (r ⫽ .08, p ⭐ .87). These results indicate that for these leaders in this particular context, personal need for achievement and personal need for affiliation were associated with an effort to understand the multiple levels and dimensions of the protracted conflict. Bill Clinton, Tony Blair, and John Hume combined high levels of achievement and affiliation imagery and relatively high complexity scores on the topic of Northern Ireland, illustrating the consistency of overall results for these individuals and giving some insight into the confluence of personalities and events that led to the successful culmination of the Good Friday Agreement in 1998. CONCLUDING REMARKS The Northern Ireland peace process has captured the attention of the world, as we observe ongoing attempts by world leaders and political representatives to resolve the tensions that continue to ripple through this landscape. From the perspective of conflict resolution research, the situation offers a unique opportunity to evaluate a process with high stakes, political and religious conflict, and the commitment and determination of talented world leaders. This analysis has focused upon the measurement of conceptual/integrative complexity and motive imagery for those leaders who dealt with this high-stress environment and successfully negotiated a peace agreement. Measures of motive imagery and integrative complexity are sensitive to the high levels of stress that are ubiquitous during peacekeeping talks (see Suedfeld et al., 2001; see also Winter in this volume). As such, content analyses of motives and integrative complexity can provide useful analytic tools for the evaluation of the multidimensionality of characteristics that lead to effective mediation and successful leadership. The methods used have allowed insight into the personalities of those who were instrumental in negotiating the Good Friday Agreement in Northern Ireland. These methods enhance understanding of these processes and provide a unique view of the role of motives and conceptual/

Bill Clinton, George Mitchell, and the Northern Ireland Peace Talks

79

integrative complexity for those involved in protracted conflict resolution. Further research is necessary to expand understanding of the complex relationships that exist between personality, mediation, and conflict resolution. APPENDIX 5.1: DATA CODED FOR LEADERS INVOLVED IN PEACE AGREEMENT NEGOTIATIONS Bill Clinton March 17, 1998

Remarks by the President at Presentation of Shamrock. The White House: Office of the Press Secretary.

March 28, 1998

Remarks by the President and First Lady in Roundtable Discussion. The White House: Office of the Press Secretary.

April 10, 1998

Northern Ireland Peace Deal. Interview: CNN Transcript # 98041001V00.

April 11, 1998

Radio Address of the President to the Nation. The White House: Office of the Press Secretary.

April 13, 1998

Remarks by the President and Senator George Mitchell in Photo Opportunity. The White House: Office of the Press Secretary.

Tony Blair April 4, 1998

Interview on Northern Ireland Peace Process.

April 10, 1998

Interview. CNN.

April 10, 1998

Remarks by Prime Minister at Stormont.

April 10, 1998

Federal Information Systems Corp. Interview.

George Mitchell March 25, 1998

Statement by the Independent Chairman. Britain in the U.S. web site.

April 10, 1998

Interview: Remarks by Former U.S. Senator George Mitchell. CNN.

April 10, 1998

Interview: President Clinton Comments on Northern Ireland Peace Deal. CNN.

April 10, 1998

Interview: Northern Ireland Peace Deal. CNN.

Mo Mowlam March 17, 1998

Interview: ABC, Good Morning America. Transcript #98031707– j01.

March 17, 1998

Interview: “All Things Considered.” Transcript #98031709–212.

March 21, 1998

Speech: “A Real Chance to End the Violence for Good.” Britain in the U.S. web site.

80 April 20, 1998

Quantitative Analysis Statement on the Good Friday Agreement. Britain in the U.S. web site.

Gerry Adams March 17, 1998

National Press Club Afternoon Newsmaker with Gerry Adams. Interview: Federal News Service.

March 17, 1998

Gerry Adams Optimistic About Prospect of Peace in Northern Ireland. Interview: CNN Transcript #98031704V18.

April 10, 1998

Northern Ireland Peace Deal. Interview: CNN Transcript # 98041001V00.

April 10, 1998

Sinn Fein President Delivers Remarks Outside Plenary Session of Northern Ireland Peace Talks. Interview: CNN Transcript #98041003V00.

April 18, 1998

Presidential Address by Gerry Adams to Sinn Fein Ard Fheis. CAIN Web Service. http://cain.ulster.ac.uk/peace/docs/ ga18498.html.

David Trimble March 17, 1998

National Press Club Remarks and Interview. Federal Information Systems Corporation.

April 10, 1998

Remarks during Plenary Session of the Peace Talks; Belfast, Northern Ireland. Federal Document Clearing House, Inc.

April 10, 1998

Interview: Northern Ireland Peace Deal. CNN.

April 21, 1998

Speech to the Northern Ireland Forum Britain in the U.S. web site.

John Hume April 4, 1998

“On the Record”: John Hume Interview Recorded from Transmission by the BBC. www.bbc.co.uk.

April 10, 1998

Interview: Northern Ireland Peace Deal. CNN.

April 7, 1998

Speech: Northern Ireland Britain in the U.S. web site.

April 10, 1998

Interview: SDLP Leader Discusses the Rejection of the Belfast Peace Plan. CNN.

NOTES 1. Data were accessed and downloaded via NEXIS, FBIS, CAIN, and Britain in the U.S. web sites. Citations for interview data are listed in Appendix 5.1. 2. These definitions are adapted from Baker-Brown et al. (1992).

Chapter 6

The Political Personality of U.S. President George W. Bush Aubrey Immelman

INTRODUCTION The pivotal role of personality in politics has received growing recognition in recent presidential campaigns. Texas Monthly magazine, for example, in the preface to its June 1999 special report on George W. Bush, asserted that personal details are exactly what people want to know about presidential candidates. Most elections are about issues, but a presidential election is about choosing a leader—and personal characteristics make a leader. That was true even for Ronald Reagan, the most ideological president in modern times. He attracted his political base with his ideas but won his elections by force of personality. (“Who Is George W. Bush?” 1999: 105)

This perspective provides the context for the current chapter, which presents an analysis of the personality of U.S. President George W. Bush and examines the political implications of his personality profile with respect to presidential leadership and executive performance. Background to the Study In his landmark work, Personality and Politics (1969: 2), Greenstein lamented that the study of personality in politics was “not a thriving scholarly endeavor,” principally because “scholars who study politics do not feel equipped to analyze personality in ways that meet their intellectual standards . . . [rendering it primarily] the preserve of journalists.” Compounding his pessimism, Greenstein noted that the personalityand-politics literature was “formidably gnarled—empirically, methodologically, and conceptually” (1969: 2).

82

Quantitative Analysis

The present volume bears witness to the fact that the study of political personality has thrived as a scholarly endeavor in the three decades since Greenstein’s bleak prognostication. But it is equally evident that the field has not evolved beyond an embryonic, preparadigmatic (Kuhn, 1970) stage of scientific inquiry. As Millon (1991: 358) has cogently stated, “unrelated knowledge and techniques . . . are a sign of a primitive science.” The current study attempts to narrow the conceptual and methodological gap that still exists between contemporary personality theory, standard psychodiagnostic procedures, and theories of political leadership, on the one hand, and the study of personality in politics, on the other. Conceptually, the present study is informed by Theodore Millon’s model of personality (1969, 1986a, 1986b, 1990, 1991, 1994a, 1996; Millon & Davis, 2000; Millon & Everly, 1985) as adapted (Immelman, 1993a, 1998) for the study of personality in politics. The methodology, termed psychodiagnostic meta-analysis,1 entails the construction of theoretically grounded personality profiles derived from empirical analysis of biographical source materials. The psychodiagnostic approach to studying political personality is equivalent to that of Simonton (1986a, 1988) in that it quantifies, reduces, and organizes qualitative data derived from published biographical materials. As observed by Simonton, who has credited Etheredge (1978) with establishing the diagnostic utility “of abstracting individual traits immediately from biographic data” to uncover the link between personality and political leadership (Simonton, 1990: 677), “biographical materials [not only] . . . supply a rich set of facts about childhood experiences and career development . . . [but] such secondary sources can offer the basis for personality assessments as well” (Simonton, 1986a: 150). It goes without saying that the validity of personality assessments based on biographical accounts and other sources of data in the public domain is restricted by the quality of these secondary sources. Nonetheless, in my opinion this approach is superior to the more common procedure of soliciting expert ratings on personality measures. Although the latter method has the advantage of permitting the investigator to establish interrater reliability, it raises accountability problems—a difficulty overcome in the present procedure by means of the transparency with which item endorsements on the personality measure are documented, and therefore open to independent verification and replication (see “Diagnostic Procedure” in the Method section). Depending on the purpose of the assessment, the present approach may also be preferable to conventional content-analytic procedures. Although content analysis has been successfully employed to assess politically relevant psychological variables such as motives (Winter, 1987), cognitive complexity (Suedfeld & Wallace, 1995), and aspects of worldview and personal political style that contribute to a leader’s foreign

The Political Personality of U.S. President George W. Bush

83

policy role orientation (Hermann, 1987a), it is conceptually and methodologically at variance with standard approaches to personality assessment in professional psychodiagnostic practice (Immelman, 1993a; see also note 4). Millon’s Model of Personality and Its Utility for Political Personality Assessment A comprehensive review of Millon’s personological model and its applicability to political personality has been provided elsewhere (see Immelman, 1993a, 1998). Briefly, Millon’s model encompasses eight attribute domains, namely expressive behavior, interpersonal conduct, cognitive style, mood/temperament, self-image, regulatory mechanisms, object representations, and morphologic organization (see Table 6.1). In short, political personality assessment grounded in Millon’s system is multidimensional, which affords the distinct advantage of accounting for (to quote Millon & Davis, 2000: 65) “the patterning of [personality] variables across the entire matrix of the person.” Furthermore, a distinctive aspect of Millon’s model is that it offers an integrative view of normality and psychopathology: “No sharp line divides normal from pathological behavior; they are relative concepts representing arbitrary points on a continuum or gradient” (Millon, 1994b: 283). This conceptual feature has important implications for the assessment of personality in politics; it enhances the predictive utility of the method by anticipating, with theoretical precision, the character of a leader’s coping strategies in the face of adversity and the likely course of catastrophic breakdown in adaptive functioning, rare though this contingency may be. Purpose of the Study The present investigation is a psychodiagnostic case study of George W. Bush, at the time of the study governor of the state of Texas and presumptive Republican Party nominee in the 2000 presidential election. The purpose of the study was to construct a Millon-based personality profile of Bush and to explore the relationship between his prevailing personality patterns and prospective political role performance as president of the United States. METHOD Materials The materials consisted of biographical sources and the personality inventory employed to systematize and synthesize diagnostically relevant information collected from the literature on George W. Bush.

Table 6.1 Millon’s Eight Attribute Domains

Sources: Disorders of Personality: DSM-IV and Beyond (pp. 141–146) by T. Millon, 1996, New York: Wiley; Toward a New Personology: An Evolutionary Model (ch. 5) by T. Millon, 1990, New York: Wiley; and Personality and Its Disorders: A Biosocial Learning Approach (p. 32) by T. Millon and G. S. Everly, Jr., 1985, New York: Wiley. Copyright
1996,
1990,
1985 by John Wiley & Sons, Inc. and Theodore Millon.

The Political Personality of U.S. President George W. Bush

85

Sources of Data Diagnostic information pertaining to the personal and public life of George W. Bush was gathered during the 2000 presidential campaign from a variety of published materials. The following sources were consulted for diagnostic information: 1. First Son: George W. Bush and the Bush Family Dynasty (1999), a biography by Bill Minutaglio of the Dallas Morning News. 2. George W. Bush: A Charge to Keep (1999), Bush’s campaign autobiography. 3. “Is There Room on a Republican Ticket for Another Bush?” by Sam Howe Verhovek, New York Times Texas correspondent for five years, in the September 13, 1998 issue of the New York Times Magazine. 4. “Who Is George W. Bush?” a special report in the June 1999 issue of Texas Monthly magazine, including generally admiring contributions by Pamela Colloff, Helen Thorpe, Skip Hollandsworth, Patricia Kilday Hart, Evan Smith, Joe Nick Patoski, and Paul Burka. 5. A seven-part series of articles by Lois Romano and George Lardner, Jr. in the July 25–31, 1999 issues of the Washington Post.

Personality Inventory The assessment instrument, the second edition of the Millon Inventory of Diagnostic Criteria (MIDC; Immelman & Steinberg, 1999), was compiled and adapted from Millon’s (1969, 1986b, 1990, 1996; Millon & Everly, 1985) prototypal features and diagnostic criteria for normal personality styles and their pathological variants.2 Information concerning the construction, administration, scoring, and interpretation of the MIDC is provided in the Millon Inventory of Diagnostic Criteria manual (Immelman, 1999).3 Following Millon (1986b), each of the 170 MIDC items consists of a defining term and a brief description that amplifies or elucidates the diagnostic indicators of the criterion. The MIDC taps the five attribute domains characterized by Millon (1990: 157) as essentially “noninferential,” namely expressive behavior, interpersonal conduct, cognitive style, mood/temperament, and self-image. Millon (1990: 160) has attested that this “narrower scope of [five directly observable] attributes . . . [is] sufficient to provide a reasonably comprehensive picture” of a person’s major characteristics. The 12 MIDC scales correspond to major personality patterns posited by Millon (1994a, 1996), which are congruent with the syndromes described on Axis II of the fourth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV) of the American Psychiatric Association (APA, 1994) and coordinated with the normal personality styles in which these disorders are rooted, as described by Millon and Everly

86

Quantitative Analysis

(1985), Millon (1994a), Oldham and Morris (1995), and Strack (1997). Scales 1 through 8 (comprising 10 scales and subscales) have three gradations (a, b, c) yielding 30 personality variants, whereas Scales 9 and 0 have two gradations (d, e), yielding four variants, for a total of 34 personality designations, or types. Table 6.2 displays the full taxonomy. Diagnostic Procedure Psychodiagnostic meta-analysis can be conceptualized as a three-part process: first, an analysis phase (data collection) during which source materials are reviewed and analyzed to extract and code diagnostically relevant content; second, a synthesis phase (scoring and interpretation) during which the unifying framework provided by the MIDC prototypal features, keyed for attribute domain and personality pattern, is employed to classify the diagnostically relevant information extracted in phase one; and finally, an evaluation phase (inference) during which theoretically grounded descriptions, explanations, inferences, and predictions are extrapolated from Millon’s theory of personality, based on the personality profile constructed in phase two. Data Collection The analysis phase, which is the most time-consuming, proceeds as follows: First, the source materials are scrutinized for diagnostically relevant information pertaining to the personal characteristics of the subject. This step constitutes a process analysis4 in which each source is coded for MIDC prototypal features. It is a task that requires specialized knowledge of Millon’s clinical attributes and their diagnostic criteria and is best served—ethically as well as practically—by appropriate clinical training and psychodiagnostic expertise. Scoring Next, the subject is rated on the MIDC, drawing from the process analysis of the literature. An MIDC item is endorsed if the presence of the diagnostic criterion (prototypal feature) is substantiated by at least two independent sources, without convincing contradictory evidence from these sources or from other sources consulted. Positively endorsed items are recorded on the MIDC score sheet, whereupon scale scores for each of the 12 scales and item endorsement frequencies for each of the five attribute domains are calculated. Scale scores are then transferred to and plotted on the MIDC profile form.5 Interpretation After scoring the MIDC, the personality profile yielded by the inventory is interpreted. The principal interpretive task is to identify the subject’s prevailing personality patterns (categorical distinctiveness) and to

Table 6.2 Millon Inventory of Diagnostic Criteria: Scales and Gradations

Note: Equivalent DSM terminology and codes are specified in parentheses.

88

Quantitative Analysis

note the specific elevation (scale gradation, or dimensional prominence) within each of these patterns. This establishes the identity of the primary and secondary personality designations relevant to describing the political personality of the subject. Personality patterns (i.e., scale labels) and gradations (i.e., types) are reported in the format: Pattern/gradation (e.g., Dominant/asserting). Inference The final stage of the diagnostic procedure is to explore the leadership implications of the subject’s MIDC profile. Useful resources for interpreting the profile and inferring leadership style are the brief, theoretically grounded narrative descriptions of personality patterns provided by Millon (1994a, 1996; Millon & Davis, 2000), Oldham and Morris (1995), and Strack (1997). The resulting personality portrait can be further elaborated by establishing, rationally and intuitively, its discernable conceptual links to more explicitly framed personality-based models of political leadership (e.g., Etheredge, 1978; Hermann, 1987a; Renshon, 1998b; Simonton, 1988). Cross-Cultural Considerations Owing to its compatibility with conventional psychodiagnostic procedures and standard clinical practice in personality assessment, psychodiagnostic meta-analysis lends itself well to cross-cultural application, given the relative uniformity of training in professional psychology around the globe. Moreover, the taxonomy of personality patterns assessed by the MIDC is congruent with the syndromes described on Axis II of the DSM-IV, with which psychologists worldwide are familiar. The present method has been used to study leaders on four continents. In addition to earlier studies of U.S. leaders (e.g., Immelman, 1998) and South African presidents F. W. de Klerk and Nelson Mandela (Immelman, 1993b, 1994), psychodiagnostic meta-analysis more recently has been employed in studies of Dutch politicians (De Landtsheer, van der Schaaf, & Immelman, 2002; van der Schaaf, 2000) and of prime ministers Indira Gandhi of India, Golda Meir of Israel, and Margaret Thatcher of Britain (in progress; B. S. Steinberg, personal communication, November 20, 2000). RESULTS The analysis of the data includes a summary of descriptive statistics yielded by the MIDC scoring procedure, the MIDC profile for George W. Bush, diagnostic classification of the subject, and the clinical interpretation of significant MIDC scale elevations derived from the diagnostic procedure.

The Political Personality of U.S. President George W. Bush

89

Table 6.3 MIDC Item Endorsement Rate by Attribute Domain

Bush received 34 endorsements on the 170-item MIDC. Descriptive statistics for Bush’s MIDC ratings are presented in Table 6.3. Bush’s MIDC scale scores are reported in Table 6.4. The same data are presented graphically in the profile depicted in Figure 6.1. The MIDC profile yielded by the raw scores is displayed in Figure 6.1.6 Bush’s most elevated scale, with a score of 16, is Scale 3 (Outgoing), followed by Scale 1A (Dominant), with a score of 11. The primary Scale 3 elevation is well within the prominent (10–23) range and the secondary elevation (Scale 1A) is just within this range. One additional scale is diagnostically significant: Scale 1B (Dauntless) with a score of 5, placing this modest elevation just within the present (5–9) range. Scale 2 (Ambitious) and Scale 4 (Accommodating) approach diagnostic significance. In terms of MIDC scale gradation (see Table 6.2 and Figure 6.1) criteria, George W. Bush was classified as an amalgam of the Outgoing/gregarious and Dominant/controlling personality patterns, with subsidiary features of the Dauntless/venturesome pattern.7 Based on the cutoff score guidelines provided in the MIDC manual, Bush’s scale elevations (see Figure 6.1) are within normal limits, though Scale 3 (Outgoing) and Scale 1A (Dominant) are moderately elevated, in the prominent range. DISCUSSION The discussion of the results examines George W. Bush’s MIDC scale elevations from the perspective of Millon’s (1994a, 1996; Millon & Davis, 2000) model of personality, supplemented by the theoretically congruent portraits of Oldham and Morris (1995) and Strack (1997). The discussion concludes with a theoretically integrative synthesis of President George W. Bush’s personality-based leadership qualities. With his elevated Scale 3, George W. Bush emerged from the assessment as a predominantly gregarious type, an adaptive, slightly exagger-

90

Quantitative Analysis

Table 6.4 MIDC Scale Scores for George W. Bush

Note: For Scales 1–8, ratio-transformed (RT%) scores are the scores for each scale expressed as a percentage of the sum of raw scores for the ten basic scales only. For Scales 9 and 0, ratio-transformed scores are scores expressed as a percentage of the sum of raw scores for all twelve MIDC scales (therefore, full-scale RT% totals can exceed 100). Scale names in parentheses signify equivalent personality patterns in the Millon Index of Personality Styles (Millon, 1994a).

ated variant of the Outgoing pattern. In interpreting Bush’s profile, due consideration also must be given to his concurrent elevation on Scale 1A (Dominant), which modulates his Outgoing pattern. Scale 3: The Outgoing Pattern The Outgoing pattern, as do all personality patterns, occurs on a continuum ranging from normal to maladaptive. At the well-adjusted pole are warm, congenial personalities. Slightly exaggerated Outgoing features occur in sociable, gregarious personalities. In its most deeply ingrained, inflexible form, extraversion manifests itself in impulsive, self-centered, overdramatizing behavior patterns that may be consistent with a clinical diagnosis of histrionic personality disorder. Normal, adaptive variants of the Outgoing pattern (i.e., congenial and gregarious types) correspond to Oldham and Morris’s (1995) Dramatic style, Strack’s (1997) sociable style, and Millon’s (1994a) Outgoing pattern.

Figure 6.1 Millon Inventory of Diagnostic Criteria: Profile for George W. Bush

92

Quantitative Analysis

In combination with the Ambitious pattern (Scale 2)—which is modestly elevated in the case of Bush—the Outgoing pattern bears some resemblance to Simonton’s (1988) charismatic presidential style; and in combination with the Accommodating pattern (Scale 4)—also modestly elevated in Bush’s profile—with Simonton’s interpersonal style. Millon (1994a: 31–32)8 summarizes the Outgoing pattern as follows: [G]regarious persons go out of their way to be popular with others, have confidence in their social abilities, feel they can readily influence and charm others, and possess a personal style that makes people like them. Most enjoy engaging in social activities, and like meeting new people and learning about their lives. Talkative, lively, socially clever, they are often dramatic attention-getters who thrive on being the center of social events. Many become easily bored, especially when faced with repetitive and mundane tasks. . . . [Although prone to] intense and shifting moods . . . their enthusiasms often prove effective in energizing and motivating others. Inclined to be facile and enterprising, outgoing people may be highly skilled at manipulating others to meet their needs.

Strack (1997) provides the following portrait of the normal prototype of the Outgoing pattern: [Outgoing] individuals have a need for attention and approval. . . . They can be quite sensitive to the needs and wants of others, at least to those aspects that will help them get the attention they seek. . . . They may have quickly shifting moods and emotions, and may come across as shallow and ungenuine. These persons tend to prefer novelty and excitement, and are bored by ordinary or mundane activities. . . . They often do well interacting with the public, [and] may be skilled and adept at rallying or motivating others. (Strack, 1997: 489, with minor modifications)

Millon’s (1994a) and Strack’s (1997) descriptions of the outgoing, sociable personality style provide the theoretical underpinnings for what Drew (1994), with reference to Bill Clinton, called “a very personal presidency” (p. 15). Leadership ability may well be impaired in individuals who “become easily bored, especially when faced with repetitive and mundane tasks,” and who are prone to “intense and shifting moods.” These shortcomings must, however, be weighed against the high degree of skill with which these individuals are able to engage their Outgoing talents of “energizing and motivating others,” as affirmed in Bush’s own words in a 1994 interview with Tom Fiedler of the Miami Herald: “When your name is George Bush, with the kind of personality I have, which is a very engaging personality, at least outgoing, in which my job is to sell tickets to baseball games, you’re a public person” (quoted in Minutaglio, 1999: 291). It bears note that Bush’s Outgoing personality features, particularly in

The Political Personality of U.S. President George W. Bush

93

combination with his modest loadings on Scale 1B (Dauntless) and Scale 2 (Ambitious), and his low score on Scale 6 (Conscientious), may render him susceptible to errors of judgment by contributing to “neglect of the role demands of political office, low resistance to corrupting influences, and impulsiveness . . . [as well as] favoring loyalty and friendship over competence-for-the-position in making appointments to high-level public office” (Immelman, 1993a: 736). However, his extensive connections with the political establishment, his cessation of alcohol use, and the attenuating effect of aging may temper the tendency toward such lapses of judgment. Millon’s personality patterns have predictable, reliable, and—for the most part—observable psychological indicators (expressive behavior, interpersonal conduct, cognitive style, mood/temperament, self-image, regulatory mechanisms, object representations, and morphologic organization). Owing to the clinical emphasis of his model, Millon’s (1996) attribute domains accentuate the maladaptive range of the personality patterns in his taxonomy—in the case of the Outgoing pattern, the impulsive pole of the congenial-gregarious-impulsive continuum. The “normalized” (i.e., de-pathologized; cf. Millon & Davis, 2000: 238) diagnostic features of the Outgoing pattern are summarized below; nonetheless, some of the designated traits may be attenuated, less pronounced, and more adaptive, in the case of George W. Bush. Expressive Behavior The core diagnostic feature of the expressive acts of Outgoing individuals is sociability; they are typically friendly, engaging, lively, extraverted, and gregarious. More exaggerated variants of the Outgoing pattern are predisposed to impulsiveness, intolerant of inactivity and inclined to seek sensation or excitement to prevent boredom. As leaders they tend to lack “gravitas” and may be prone to scandal, predisposed to reckless, imprudent behaviors, and inclined to make spur-of-the-moment decisions without carefully considering alternatives. (Adapted from Millon, 1996: 366–67, 371; Millon & Everly, 1985: 33.) Interpersonal Conduct The core diagnostic feature of the interpersonal conduct of Outgoing individuals is demonstrativeness; they are amiable and display their feelings openly. More exaggerated variants of the Outgoing pattern tend to be attention seeking, being attentive to popular appeal and actively soliciting praise and approval. They are interpersonally seductive. In a political leadership role, these traits translate into a substantial need for validation, one manifestation of which may be an overreliance on polls as an instrument of policy direction and formulation. (Adapted from Millon, 1996: 367–68, 371; Millon & Everly, 1985: 33.)

94

Quantitative Analysis

Cognitive Style The core diagnostic feature of the cognitive style of Outgoing individuals is unreflectiveness; they avoid introspective thought and focus on practical, concrete matters. More exaggerated variants of the Outgoing pattern tend to be superficial, which is sometimes associated with flightiness in reasoning or thinking. They are not paragons of deep thinking or self-reflection and tend to speak and write in impressionistic generalities. They may be slow to learn from their mistakes and prone to thoughtless judgments. Politically speaking, more extreme forms of the Outgoing pattern may result in lapses of judgment and flawed decision making. (Adapted from Millon, 1996: 368–69, 371; Millon & Davis, 2000: 236) Mood/Temperament The core diagnostic feature of the temperamental disposition and prevailing mood of Outgoing individuals is emotional expressiveness; they are animated, uninhibited, and affectively responsive. More exaggerated variants of the Outgoing pattern are quite changeable, with occasional displays of short-lived and superficial moods. Leaders with this personality pattern are skilled at staying in touch with public sentiments, but may be mercurial, volatile, or capricious, prone to periodic emotional outbursts, and easily angered or bored. (Adapted from Millon, 1996: 370– 71) Self-Image The core diagnostic feature of the self-image of Outgoing individuals is their view of themselves as being socially desirable, well liked, and charming. More exaggerated variants of the Outgoing pattern tend to perceive themselves as stimulating, popular, and gregarious. Given their appealing self-image, Outgoing personalities are confident in their social abilities. In politics, Outgoing personalities, more than any other character types, are political animals strongly attracted to the lure of campaigning. They thrive on the validation of self offered by adulating crowds and the frenetic, connect-with-people activity of whistlestop tours, political rallies, and town meetings. (Adapted from Millon, 1996: 369, 371; Millon & Everly, 1985: 33) Regulatory Mechanisms The core diagnostic feature of the regulatory (i.e., ego-defense) mechanisms of Outgoing individuals is self-distraction; their preferred stressmanagement strategy is to engage in relatively mindless activities—for example, games, physical diversions, or other forms of amusement or recreation. Whereas healthy self-distraction is generally adaptive in cop-

The Political Personality of U.S. President George W. Bush

95

ing with the stress of high-level public office, some of its political implications may be troubling—including a leader’s failure to face up to unpleasant or dissonant thoughts, feelings, and actions, which may be compounded by cosmetic image-making as revealed in a succession of socially attractive but changing facades. (Adapted from Millon, 1996: 370) Object Representations The core diagnostic feature of the object representations of Outgoing individuals is their shallow nature. Outgoing personalities characteristically seek stimulation, attention, and excitement, presumably to fill an inner void. These individuals thrive on the thrill of the political campaign and in office may not be averse to instigating a crisis for instrumental purposes. Thus, although generally conflict averse, they may engage in brinkmanship to force a desired outcome. (Adapted from Millon, 1996: 369) Morphologic Organization The core diagnostic feature of the morphologic organization of Outgoing individuals is exteroceptiveness; they tend to focus on external matters and the here-and-now, being neither introspective nor dwelling excessively on the past, presumably to blot out awareness of a relatively insubstantial inner self. Their internal controls are relatively scattered and unintegrated, with ad hoc methods for restraining impulses, coordinating defenses, and resolving conflicts. The personal political style of these individuals, hypothetically, may have a similar quality, with ad hoc strategies sometimes displacing the disciplined pursuit of carefully formulated policy objectives. (Adapted from Millon, 1996: 370) Scale 1A: The Dominant Pattern Few people exhibit personality patterns in “pure” or prototypal form; more often, individual personalities represent a blend of two or more prevailing orientations. As noted earlier, Bush’s secondary elevation on Scale 1A (Dominant) modulates9 his primary Outgoing pattern. Bush’s loading on Scale 1A classifies him as a controlling type, an adaptive, slightly exaggerated variant of the Dominant pattern. Normal, adaptive variants of the Dominant pattern (i.e., asserting and controlling types) correspond to Oldham and Morris’ (1995) Aggressive style, Strack’s (1997) forceful style, and Millon’s (1994a) Controlling pattern. In combination with the Conscientious and Contentious patterns, an elevated Dominant pattern points to Simonton’s (1988) deliberative presidential style; however, Bush obtained very low scores on both of these scales, suggesting a less studied, more spontaneous, freewheel-

96

Quantitative Analysis

ing—possibly impatient or impulsive—leadership style. According to Millon (1994a: 34), Controlling (i.e., Dominant) individuals “enjoy the power to direct and intimidate others, and to evoke obedience and respect from them. They tend to be tough and unsentimental. . . . [Dominant] types typically make effective leaders, being talented in supervising and persuading others to work for the achievement of common goals.” Caution should be exercised in applying Millon’s description of the Controlling pattern to Bush, given that the Dominant pattern is not his primary orientation. This caveat also holds for Oldham and Morris’ (1995) portrait of the Aggressive personality, which supplements Millon’s description: [Dominant individuals] can undertake huge responsibilities without fear of failure. They wield power with ease. They never back away from a fight. . . . When put to the service of the greater good, the Aggressive [Dominant] personality style can inspire a man or woman to great leadership, especially in times of crisis. (Oldham & Morris, 1995: 345)

Finally, Strack (1997) provides the following portrait of the normal prototype of the Dominant pattern, aspects of which can be expected to modify Bush’s primary Outgoing pattern: [Dominant] people seem driven to prove their worthiness. They are characterized by an assertive, dominant, and tough-minded personal style. They tend to be strong-willed, ambitious, competitive, and self-determined. . . . In work settings, these personalities are often driven to excel. They work hard to achieve their goals, are competitive, and do well where they can take control or work independently. In supervisory or leadership positions these persons usually take charge and see to it that a job gets done. (Strack, 1997: 490, with minor modifications)

Millon’s (1994a), Oldham and Morris’ (1995), and Strack’s (1997) descriptions of the controlling, aggressive, forceful personality style are theoretically congruent with Minutaglio’s (1999) contention that George W. Bush “loved it when author Richard Ben Cramer [in his 1993 book, What It Takes] had described him as an ass-kicking foot soldier, a quick-witted spy, the ‘Roman candle’ in the family” (p. 311). Scale 1B: The Dauntless Pattern In view of questions raised during his presidential campaign about George W. Bush’s personal conduct as a young adult, his modest elevation on Scale 1B (Dauntless), with a diagnostically significant score of 5, warrants brief comment. Bush’s scale elevation meets the minimum

The Political Personality of U.S. President George W. Bush

97

criterion for identifying the presence of a Dauntless/venturesome element in his overall personality configuration. Normal, adaptive variants of the Dauntless pattern (i.e., venturesome and dissenting types) correspond to Oldham and Morris’ (1995) Adventurous style, Millon’s (1994a) Dissenting pattern, and the low poles of Simonton’s (1988) interpersonal presidential styles. It should be noted that Adventurous (Oldham & Morris, 1995) and Dissenting (Millon, 1994a) personalities are adaptive variants of antisocial personality disorder. Perhaps by dint of more favorable socialization experiences, these more adaptive styles express themselves “in behaviors that are minimally obtrusive, especially when manifested in sublimated forms, such as independence strivings, ambition, competition, risktaking, and adventuresomeness” (Millon, 1996: 449). Millon’s description of this pattern provides the theoretical underpinnings for what Bush himself has variously alluded to as his “nomadic” years (see Romano, 1998) and the “so-called wild, exotic days” of his youth (see Hollandsworth, 1999); indeed, the DSM-IV’s description of antisocial personalities as “excessively opinionated, self-assured, or cocky” people with “a glib, superficial charm” (APA, 1994: 646) does not seem too far removed from accounts of the “young and irresponsible” (see Minutaglio, 1999: 320) Bush in his twenties. It must be emphasized, however, that antisocial-spectrum personality patterns (see Millon & Davis, 1998: 161–70) commonly become less pervasive, intrusive, and maladaptive by early middle age. According to DSM-IV, “Antisocial Personality Disorder has a chronic course but may become less evident or remit as the individual grows older, particularly in the fourth decade of life” (APA, 1994: 648). The conventional wisdom is that George W. Bush’s “so-called wild, exotic days” ended the day after his fourtieth birthday, when he quit drinking and began to turn his life around. Of course, there is no way of determining whether this is diagnostically significant or sheer coincidence. Millon (1996), in examining the developmental background of socalled “socially sublimated antisocials” (p. 462), asserts that their experiential history is often characterized by secondary status in the family. He writes:

It is not only in socially underprivileged families or underclass communities that we see the emergence of antisocial individuals. The key problem for all has been their failure to experience the feeling of being treated fairly and having been viewed as a person/child of value in the family context. Such situations occur in many middle- and upper-middle class families. Here, parents may have given special attention to another sibling who was admired and highly esteemed, at least in the eyes of the “deprived” youngster. (Millon, 1996: 462)

98

Quantitative Analysis

The circumstances surrounding the death of his three-year-old sister, Robin, when George was seven, younger brother Jeb’s early achievements, and the unspoken burden of being the standard bearer of the Bush legacy may all have played a part in the emergence of these— admittedly speculative—dynamics. Verhovek (1998), for example, writes that young George “was a mischievous boy with a passion for sports, especially baseball, and a penchant for wisecracks that may well have its origins in a family tragedy. . . . [B]oth of his parents told friends that George seemed to develop a joking, bantering style in a determined bid to lift them from their grief” (p. 57). And Colloff (1999) explains, “During the seven months that Robin battled the disease at a New York hospital, Barbara Bush stayed at her bedside; George Bush . . . shuttled back and forth between Midland and New York. When he was gone, George W. and his baby brother Jeb were left in the care of family friends” (p. 141). With reference to Jeb’s favored status in the Bush family and the burden of firstborn family status, Burka (1999: 115) writes: [George W. Bush] will inevitably be compared to his father. . . . They spent quality time together . . . but well into George W.’s adulthood, their relationship was marked by the competitive issues that often arise between fathers and firstborn sons. . . . Perhaps the source of the tension lies in the status within the family of brother Jeb, seven years his junior . . . , who was regarded as the smart one, while George was the smart-alecky one.

There can be little doubt, however, that the life course that George W.’s parents charted for him—following in his father’s footsteps to Andover, Yale, and the oil fields of Texas, and his prominent role in his father’s political campaigns—also bestowed special privileges on the “First Son,” scion of the Bush political dynasty. A Composite Personality Portrait of George W. Bush George W. Bush’s overall personality configuration, with his primary elevation on Scale 3 (Outgoing), his secondary elevation on Scale 1A (Dominant), his less prominent elevation on Scale 1B (Dauntless), and near-significant elevations on Scale 2 (Ambitious) and Scale 4 (Accommodating) suggests the following composite personality portrait, drawn from the work of Millon: • Characteristically engaging, energetic, and optimistic; driven by a need for excitement and stimulation and willing to take risks; full of ideas, though tending to be a superficial thinker; likely to start many projects but inconsistent in following through, compensating with a natural salesperson’s ability to persuade others to join in getting things done (adapted from Millon & Davis, 2000: 111, 242).

The Political Personality of U.S. President George W. Bush

99

• Assertive, realistic, and competitive; enjoys the power to direct others and to evoke respect, often asserting control under the guise of good-natured fun and teasing; authoritative without being authoritarian, tending to use position power for the greater good; creates rules and expects subordinates to follow them, though within reasonable limits (adapted from Millon & Davis, 2000: 514–15). • Disarmingly affable and charming, making a good first impression; possesses a keen ability to read others’ motives and desires, and willing to scheme in calculated fashion to realize personal ambitions (adapted from Millon & Davis, 2000: 243). • Congenial, cordial, and agreeable; generally benevolent and approval-seeking, preferring to avoid conflict without being conflict averse; anti-introspective and unwilling to acknowledge disturbing emotions, denying personal difficulties or covering inner conflicts with self-distraction (adapted from Millon & Davis, 2000: 211).

Leadership Implications It is possible to coordinate the present findings with alternative models of political personality and complementary theories of political leadership. Renshon (1998b), for example, has proposed “three distinct aspects” (p. 226) of political leadership shaped by character: mobilization—the ability to arouse, engage, and direct the public; orchestration—the organizational skill and ability to craft specific policies; and consolidation— the skills and tasks required to preserve the supportive relationships necessary for an executive leader to implement and institutionalize his or her policy judgments (Renshon, 1998b: 227, 411). Simonton (1988), who has proposed five empirically derived presidential styles (charismatic, interpersonal, deliberative, neurotic, and creative), offers another promising frame of reference. Given the fidelity with which they mirror the currently popular five-factor model, whose correlates with Millon’s personality patterns have been empirically established (Millon, 1994a: 82), Simonton’s stylistic dimensions may have considerable heuristic value for establishing links between personality and political leadership. Similarly, Etheredge (1978) and Hermann (1987a) have developed personality-based models of foreign policy leadership orientation that can be employed rationally and intuitively to enhance and complement the predictive utility of Millon’s model with respect to leadership performance in the arena of international relations. In terms of Renshon’s (1998b) three critical components of political leadership, Bush’s outgoing personality will be instrumental in rallying, energizing, and motivating others, and in concert with his considerable political connections will stand him in good stead with respect to mobilization. In the sphere of orchestration, Bush’s relative paucity of personality traits related to conscientiousness (e.g., sustained focus and

100

Quantitative Analysis

attention to detail), along with his extravert’s impulsiveness and susceptibility to boredom may serve as an impediment to presidential performance. Bush is no “policy wonk”—an attribute firmly embedded in his personality—though as governor he proved himself adept at delegating the more mundane aspects and minutiae of the day-to-day operation of his office. This particular leadership skill—rooted in Bush’s dominant personality attributes, including the drive to excel, goal-directedness, and proficiency in taking charge and seeing that the job gets done—will also aid Bush in the arena of consolidation, where it will potentially augment his outgoing, “retail” politician’s skills in consummating his policy objectives. From Simonton’s perspective, Bush’s MIDC elevations on the Outgoing, Dominant, and Ambitious scales imply a “charismatic” leadership style, which conceptually corresponds to the “Big Five” Extraversion factor. According to Simonton (1988), the charismatic leader typically “finds dealing with the press challenging and enjoyable” [Outgoing], “consciously refines his own public image” [Outgoing, Ambitious], “has a flair for the dramatic” [Outgoing], “conveys [a] clear-cut, highly visible personality” [Outgoing], is a “skilled and self-confident negotiator” [Dominant, Ambitious], “uses rhetoric effectively” [Dominant, Ambitious], is a “dynamo of energy and determination” [Outgoing, Dominant, Ambitious], “keeps in contact with the American public and its moods” [Outgoing], “has [the] ability to maintain popularity” [Outgoing], [and] “exhibits artistry in manipulation” [Dominant, Ambitious] (Simonton, 1988: 931; associated Millon patterns added). In addition, the charismatic leader “rarely permits himself to be outflanked” [Dominant, Ambitious] and rarely “suffers health problems that tend to parallel difficult and critical periods in office” (Simonton, 1988: 930, 931; associated MIDC patterns added). Bush’s weak loadings on the Conscientious (Scale 6) and Contentious (Scale 5B) patterns, along with his elevations on the Dauntless (Scale 1B) and Outgoing (Scale 4) patterns, suggest that he is not likely to display Simonton’s “deliberative” leadership style, which conceptually corresponds to the “Big Five” Conscientiousness factor. According to Simonton (1988: 931), the deliberative leader commonly “understands [the] implications of his decisions; exhibits depth of comprehension” . . . , is “able to visualize alternatives and weigh long term consequences” . . . , “keeps himself thoroughly informed; reads briefings, background reports” . . . , is “cautious, conservative in action” . . . , and only infrequently “indulges in emotional outbursts.”

To a lesser extent, the deliberative leader is not inclined “to force decisions to be made prematurely,” “knows his limitations,” and does not

The Political Personality of U.S. President George W. Bush

101

place “political success over effective policy” (Simonton, 1988: 930, 931). Based on his personality profile, these qualities will likely not be hallmarks of the leadership style of President Bush. Concerning his likely foreign policy orientation, Bush’s profile most closely resembles what Etheredge (1978), in his “four-fold speculative typology” of “fundamental personality-based differences in orientation towards America’s preferred operating style and role in the international system” (p. 434), has called the “high-dominance extrovert.” Etheredge contends that high-dominance extraverts (such as Presidents Theodore and Franklin Roosevelt, Kennedy, and Lyndon Johnson) share highdominance introverts’ tendency “to use military force” [b]ut in general . . . are more flexible and pragmatic, more varied in the wide range and scope of major foreign policy initiatives. . . . [In contrast to highdominance introverts, they] want to lead rather than contain. They advocate change, seek to stir up things globally. . . . [and] are relatively more interested in inclusion [compared with high-dominance introverts, who favor exclusion], initiating programs and institutions for worldwide leadership and cooperative advance on a wide range of issues. (Etheredge, 1978: 449)

Bush’s personality profile also converges with Hermann’s (1987: 168) “mediator/integrator” orientation, a foreign policy role orientation motivated by “[c]oncern with reconciling differences between . . . nations, with resolving problems in the international arena.” In these leaders’ worldview, conflict can be resolved through third-party mediation, prompting a foreign policy “principally diplomatic in nature,” in which the leader engages in “collaborative activities with other nations to foster [a] sense of mutual trust and understanding.” The rhetoric of these leaders “is generally positive in tone.” They use “consensus-building and group maintenance techniques effectively” and have a personal political style characterized by a “willingness to ‘take a back seat’ in the policymaking process, having an impact without seeming to control” (pp. 168– 69). CONCLUSION George W. Bush’s major personality-based leadership strengths are the important political skills of charisma and interpersonality—a personable, confident, socially responsive, outgoing tendency that will enable him to connect with critical constituencies, mobilize popular support, and retain a following and his self-confidence in the face of adversity. Outgoing leaders characteristically are confident in their social abilities, skilled in the art of social influence, and have a charming, engaging personal style that tends to make people like them and overlook their gaffes and foibles.

102

Quantitative Analysis

Bush’s major personality-based limitations include the propensity for a superficial grasp of complex issues, a predisposition to be easily bored by routine (with the attendant risk of failing to keep himself adequately informed), an inclination to act impulsively without fully appreciating the implications of his decisions or the long-term consequences of his policy initiatives, and a predilection to favor personal connections, friendship, and loyalty over competence in his staffing decisions and appointments—all of which could render a Bush administration relatively vulnerable to errors of judgment. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS This chapter is adapted from studies of Texas governor George W. Bush presented by the author at the 1999 and 2000 meetings of the International Society of Political Psychology. Dale Fredrickson and Rochelle Szokoly assisted with data collection. I wish to express my appreciation to Theodore Millon for valuable advice and gracious permission to adapt his work.

NOTES 1. I use the term meta-analysis because the personality profiles represent a synthesis of the observations of others, including biographers, psychobiographers, historians, psychohistorians, journalists, political analysts, and political psychologists. I use the term psychodiagnostic because the conceptual framework is more closely related to the realm of contemporary clinical assessment than to classic psychobiography or to conventional social-psychological and cognitive approaches to the assessment of political personality. The “psychodiagnostic” label is not intended to imply a presupposition of psychopathology: diagnostic is used in a generic sense to denote a process “serving to distinguish or identify,” as defined in Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary (1997); accordingly, the object is to identify a leader’s enduring personality configuration and to specify its political implications. 2. No doubt the placement of individuals on the adaptive-maladaptive continuum is a complex and controversial undertaking (see Frances et al., 1991, for a review). Establishing the viability and utility of such an endeavor awaits empirical confirmation. 3. Inventory and manual available upon request from the author. 4. I use the term process to accentuate the contrast between the present approach and more conventional content-analytic procedures, which arguably tend to capture surface features of source materials. Process analysis, in contrast to content analysis, seeks to identify the underlying structural and functional personality processes revealed by theory-driven empirical analysis of biographical data with respect to the political leader under investigation. 5. MIDC score sheet, profile form, and more detailed scoring instructions are available upon request from the author. 6. See Table 6.2 for scale names. Solid horizontal lines on the profile form signify cutoff scores between adjacent scale gradations. For Scales 1–8, scores of

The Political Personality of U.S. President George W. Bush

103

5 through 9 signify the presence (gradation a) of the personality pattern in question; scores of 10 through 23 indicate a prominent (gradation b) variant; and scores of 24 or higher indicate an exaggerated, mildly dysfunctional (gradation c) variation of the pattern. For Scales 9 and 0, scores of 20 through 35 indicate a moderately disturbed syndrome and scores of 34 through 45 a markedly disturbed syndrome. 7. In each case the label preceding the slash signifies the basic pattern, whereas the label following the slash indicates the specific scale gradation, or personality type, on the dimensional continuum; see Table 6.2. 8. All Millon (1994a) citations in this chapter refer to the Millon Index of Personality Styles (MIPS). Copyright
1994 by Dicandrien, Inc. “MIPS” is a registered trademark of The Psychological Corporation registered in the United States of America and/or other jurisdictions. Reproduced by permission of the publisher, The Psychological Corporation, a Harcourt Assessment Company. All rights reserved. 9. Bush’s well-documented habit of giving people nicknames offers an interesting illustration of the interaction between his Dominant and Outgoing orientations. Outgoing personalities seek personal approval and validation, and they may do so in a manipulative, seductive manner. Dominant personalities, on the other hand, strive to exert dominance and control. In dispensing nicknames, Bush has apparently devised a strategy of asserting his dominance and control in a playful, relatively nonthreatening manner.

Chapter 7

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives: Insights from Biographers and Objective Personality Measures Steven J. Rubenzer, Thomas R. Faschingbauer, and Deniz S. Ones

INTRODUCTION Does character matter? Who has the personality to be president? These questions have been issues, if not decisive ones, in the past two elections. Barber’s (1992) Presidential Character has been a standard in the fields of history and political science, but empirical investigation of these questions has thus far been based on data from only a handful of researchers. Several psychologists have examined presidential personality using objective methods. For example, Winter (1987) scored inaugural addresses of newly elected presidents for manifestations of power, achievement, and affiliation motivation. Simonton (1986a) compiled dossiers containing statements about each president’s personality culled from respected standard sources such as encyclopedias. Students reviewed the dossiers, then rated each president, blind to the identity of the subject, on 110 adjectives from the Gough’s Adjective Checklist (Gough & Heilbrun, 1983). The data collected by Winter and Simonton correlate well with each other and other theoretically related variables (House et al., 1991; Simonton, 1986a; Spangler & House, 1991; Winter, 1987), and some researchers (House et al., 1991; McCann, 1992; Spangler & House, 1991) have used both data sets. More recently, Kowert (1996) had 27 presidential experts rate six modern chief executives on the 100 items of the California Q-sort (1978). Of the three data sets, only Kowert used a standardized measure commonly used in personality research or raters with in-depth knowledge of the presidents, and no study to date has allowed comparison of the presidents, either individually or as a group, to typical Americans.

106

Quantitative Analysis

THE PERSONALITY AND THE PRESIDENCY PROJECT Over the past six years, we have sought to examine the personalities of 41 presidents (not including George W. Bush) in greater detail than ever before. Our goals were to provide objective personality portraits for all the presidents, to compare them to average Americans, to classify them using quantitative clustering techniques, and to explore the role of personality in presidential behavior, including job performance and success. In order to accomplish each of these goals, we needed to assess presidential personality. In the following sections, we describe the measures used, discuss the raters who provided the ratings, and highlight some assessment issues unique to our study. Measures We used three independent measures, each designed to assess personality comprehensively from the standpoint of an observer: The Revised NEO Personality Inventory (Form R; Costa & McCrae, 1992), the California Q-sort (1978), and Goldberg’s (1990) 100 Adjective Clusters. The Revised NEO Personality Inventory (NEO PI-R) is a 240-item inventory that measures the Big Five factors (dimensions) of personality and 30 more specific sub-dimensions (facet traits) described in Table 7.1. The NEO PI-R is answered on a 5-point Likert scale (strongly agree, agree, neutral, disagree, strongly disagree) and has up-to-date norms for the U.S. population. Particularly of interest to us was the availability of norms for the other (non-self) rating form (Form R). Ratings by a spouse or peer acquaintance correlate significantly with self-rating on the Big Five factors (average r’s of .59 and .43, respectively), while slightly lower figures are observed for the facet scales (Costa & McCrae, 1992). The Goldberg adjectives are the 100 most frequently occurring synonym clusters (i.e., gullible, naive, suggestible) of personality-related adjectives in the English language. The California Q-sort is a collection of 100 personality items (e.g., “is basically anxious”) selected by a panel of psychologists and psychiatrists to comprehensively sample personality differences among people. Both Goldberg adjective clusters and Q-sort items were rated on a 9-point scale, with the instruction to use all of the categories. Unlike the standard method for the Q-sort, no attempt was made to “force” a distribution of responses: Raters were free to use the response options as frequently or infrequently as they wished. All three personality instruments can be scored to yield scores on the Big Five personality factors. Additional items assessed Positive and Negative Valence (Almagor et al., 1995), job performance, broadly defined intelligence factors (Gardner, 1983), behavior as president (Simonton, 1988), and other variables of interest. All together, 592 personality and

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives

107

ability items were contained in the questionnaire. An additional 28 items gathered information about the raters. Raters We sought experts who had written book-length biographies on a particular president or had other, protracted contact with a president. Using the various directories on the World Wide Web, national telephone directories on CD-ROM, and various Who’s Who–type directories, we identified presidential experts of differing backgrounds. We limited our search to authors of biographies written after 1960 to increase the chances that the biographers would still be living and physically and mentally up to the task of providing ratings on 592 items. This resulted in about 1,000 raters whom we attempted to contact. Locating these experts proved difficult, since biographies seem to be written late in one’s academic career or earlier in life as a function of one’s celebrity. Public figures understandably take pains to conceal their whereabouts and academics tend to retire with no forwarding addresses. Approximately 175 of the potential raters had died and a similar number declined to participate for various reasons. These included difficulty handling or completing materials (a few), poor health (a few), wanting to be paid (two), and lack of time (most). By the time the analyses reported below were completed, 115 experts had provided 172 completed questionnaires (some raters provided data on more than one president). We were able to find expert raters for all 41 men who had been president up through Bill Clinton. Number of raters per president ranged from 1 to 13, with a mean number of 4.2 raters (SD ⫽ 2.9). In the NEO PI-R manual, Costa and McCrae state (1992: 48), “Four raters appear to be about the optimal number; there are diminishing returns from aggregating more raters.” In addition to our primary raters, we enlisted a second group of experts. These were either authors of general reference books on the presidents or board members of the Center for the Study of the Presidency. These “generalists” are highly knowledgeable about the presidents as a group but don’t necessarily know individual presidents in depth. We asked them to complete a much shorter (60-item) questionnaire on the 41 presidents, which gave us a second set of ratings with which to compare to our findings from specialists. Construct Validity of the Current Nomethetic Instruments for Historical Assessment Previously, the NEO PI-R has been used to obtain insights into the personality of Jean Jacques Rousseau (McCrae, 1996). But can researchers

Table 7.1 NEO PI-R Factor and Facet Scales

108

109

110

Quantitative Analysis

validly apply a modern personality test to historical figures? One could question the appropriateness of the instrument’s construct validity, its items, and norms. Construct validity can be assessed in several ways. Factor scores from the NEO PI-R showed solid convergent correlations with respective Big Five factors from the Goldberg adjective clusters (r’s ⫽ .71–.91) and those computed from the California Q-sort (r’s ⫽ .64–.86). Facet scores from the NEO PI-R showed very substantial convergent correlations with Simonton’s (1986a) adjective scales. For example, NEO PI-R Assertiveness correlated .65 with Forcefulness; Warmth .72 with Friendliness; Straightforwardness ⫺.74 with Machiavellianism; Achievement Striving .50 with Simonton’s Achievement Drive scale; and Order .61 with Tidiness. Because Simonton found Intellectual Brilliance to be the best personality predictor of presidential performance, we constructed a parallel scale that was nearly identical in the adjectives composing it. Our measure correlated .67 with Simonton’s. On the other hand, our measure of Physical Attractiveness correlated only .33 with Simonton’s despite being highly similar in content, and Openness to (liberal) Values correlated only ⫺.17 with Conservatism. Lastly, interrater reliability is always a major constraint on measurement of personality. Political figures often are the subject of highly critical or idealized analysis. Can biographers agree at all on the personalities they are portraying? Our data indicate they can. McCrae (1993) advocated use of an index (rpa) to assess the degree of similarity between profiles on the NEO PI-R. He reported that the average level of agreement (rpa) between self-ratings and those of spouses rating the same subject in the NEO PI-R norm sample was .51 (SD ⫽ .26), and the respective figures for self/peer ratings were .41 (SD ⫽ .32). In our data, we found that randomly chosen raters assessing the same president attained a mean rpa of .42, with a SD of .46. Therefore, our raters show about the same mean level of agreement as self/peer ratings, but greater variability. When assessing the personality of historical figures, which period of their lives should the ratings reflect? In this study, we instructed our experts to make ratings of their respective subjects based on the five-year period before they became presidents. This approach has two clear benefits. A president is subjected to strong pressures based on his role and the environment of the White House, which may reduce or magnify the variability of behavior among different people. Secondly, we hoped to retain the distinction between personality and behavior in office so that our attempts to predict presidential success would be less confounded. Do the items of the personality instrument translate adequately over time? We identified only three problematic items on the NEO PI-R

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives

111

(“avoids movies that are shocking or scary”; “loves the excitement of roller coasters”; “believes the ‘new morality’ of permissiveness is no morality at all”) out of 240 items. There were no apparent problems on Qsort or adjective cluster items. What about norms? It is quite possible that the average American in 1789 would have scored differently on the Big Five factors than those today. How can we justify using norms for the NEO PI-R from the 1990s to assess George Washington or Thomas Jefferson? In reporting normative scores, the prime purpose is communication. As Americans living in the twentieth century, most of us are truly familiar with only one historical group of people—those living around us now. If we were somehow able to meet George Washington, either by going back to his time or by bringing him to ours, we would judge him by our own terms and standards. The scores we report are expected to be the most meaningful to the current readers.

PERSONALITY SCORES OF U.S. PRESIDENTS The main objective in this portion of our study was to generate a mean profile for presidential personality using the NEO PI-R. The NEO PI-R was scored as specified by the manual, and factor scores computed. Because the Revised NEO Personality Inventory, unlike the California Qsort, is a nomothetic instrument, scores from one president on a given personality trait can be directly compared to other presidents, limited only by the reliability of measurement. Since the NEO PI-R has norms for the U.S. population, we can also compare scores of presidents, both as individuals and as a group, to average Americans. The mean NEO PI-R profile for the presidents is displayed in Figure 7.1. On the average, presidents tended to be more Extraverted (U.S. percentile ⫽ 67.4),1 less Open to Experience (U.S. percentile ⫽ 30.9), and less Agreeable (U.S. percentile ⫽ 24.2) than typical Americans. On the more specific NEO facet scales, presidents were distinguished by high scores on Achievement Striving (U.S. percentile ⫽ 88.3), Assertiveness (U.S. percentile ⫽ 79.4), and Openness to Feelings (U.S. percentile ⫽ 70.5) and low scores on Straightforwardness (U.S. percentile ⫽ 18.7), Modesty (U.S. percentile ⫽ 26.8), and Openness to Values (U.S. percentile ⫽ 33.7). Thus, presidents tend to be hard working and achievement-minded, willing and able to speak up for their interests, and value the emotional side of life. They tend to trust in the traditional sources of moral authority, yet are willing to bend the truth and manipulate people to get their way. They tend to see themselves as just as good as, and maybe better than, other people.

112

Quantitative Analysis

Figure 7.1 Average Scores of U.S. Presidents on the NEO Big Five Factors

A TYPOLOGY OF PRESIDENTS BASED ON PERSONALITY SCALE SCORES While personality profiles such as those provided above are useful in describing individual presidents, categories are useful as “landmarks” in locating people. An individual may resemble more than one type and be more complex than any simple typology. Nonetheless, an empirically based typology can help answer historical and political questions such as the following: If a variety of personalities do reach the White House, what clear-cut personality types can be identified? Are there differences among these types in leadership style and productivity? Does personality vary with the types of problems facing the chief executive at each point in history? Or does the country simply alternate between various types (e.g., introverts and extraverts) from election to election, regardless of external events? In creating a typology, we sought to find clusters of people that are similar across a large set of personality traits and abilities. To be valid, we had to broadly sample all areas of personality and to “double-center” data (presidents ⫻ presidents; cf. Comrey, 1973) before analysis. In practice, we ipsatized each item response by first using the mean and standard deviation of that expert to counteract extreme response sets.

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives

113

Next, we averaged across experts for each president before standardizing across presidents for each item. Fruchter (1954) offered a manual clustering technique based on correlations. It includes persons in clusters based on the ratio of their average correlation with other persons already in the cluster to their average relationship with persons not in the cluster. We decided to use the readily available cluster analysis software packages (e.g., JMP, SAS Institute, 1995) as guides, but manually developed our typology using Fruchter’s b coefficient. Nearly all presidents could be classified into one or more of eight presidential types. These include the Dominators (LBJ, Nixon, Andrew Johnson, Jackson, Polk, Teddy Roosevelt, and Arthur), The Introverts (John Adams, John Quincy Adams, Nixon, Hoover, Coolidge, Buchanan, Wilson, and Benjamin Harrison), the Good Guys (Hayes, Taylor, Eisenhower, Tyler, Fillmore, Cleveland, Ford, and Washington), the Innocents (Taft, Harding, and Grant), the Actors (Reagan, Harding, William Henry Harrison, Clinton, and Pierce), the Maintainers (McKinley, George H. W. Bush, Ford, and Truman), the Philosophes (Garfield, Lincoln, Jefferson, Madison, Carter, and Hayes), and the Extraverts (FDR, Kennedy, Clinton, Teddy Roosevelt, Reagan, William Henry Harrison, Harding, Jackson, and LBJ). Some presidents, like Clinton, LBJ, and Harding, belong to more than one cluster. A few, such as Van Buren and Monroe, don’t clearly fit in any. Detailed description of our procedures and the typology can be obtained from the second author of this chapter. Average U.S. percentile scores of the various types on the NEO PI-R factor scales are shown in Table 7.2. Clearly, the presidents differ dramatically among themselves. Introverts score at 7th (6.8) percentile on U.S. norms for the NEO PI-R on Extraversion, while Extraverts average a lofty 99.6. Philosophes achieve an average percentile score of 87.3 on Openness to Experience, while Innocents average 3.1. Philosophes also tend to be Agreeable (69.9), while Dominators are decidedly not (0.7, ⬍ 1st percentile). Actors and Innocents are low in Conscientiousness (16.1, 17.4, respectively), while Introverts tend to score quite high (96.5). Table 7.2 illustrates that there may be multiple roads (Simonton, 1999) to achieving the presidency. Further research will be needed as new presidents are elected. Although we had the entire population of U.S. presidents in our study, it is unclear whether our eight presidential personality types will adequately capture future presidents. Nonetheless, presidential researchers have an initial typology to work with. Future research may also compare and contrast the typology presented here with previous ones that did not use a Five Factor framework (e.g., Simonton, 1988).

Table 7.2 Average Percentile Scores of Presidential Types on the Big Five Personality Factors

Note: Values equal to or above the 85th percentile or equal to or below the 15th percentile are shown in bold.

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives

115

PREDICTING PRESIDENTIAL SUCCESS FROM PERSONALITY: AN INVESTIGATION OF PERSONALITY AND HISTORICAL GREATNESS What makes a good president? Which personality traits are associated with superior presidential performance? Although biographers, historians, and political scientists have attempted to answer these questions, their approaches tend to be more ideographic than nomothetic and hence tend to highlight the uniqueness of different U.S. presidents. Our objective was to examine whether psychological characteristics of the men who have served as president, as measured by our questionnaire, relate to ratings of historical greatness. In studying factors related to job success in other occupations, industrial-organizational psychologists typically measure various personal characteristics (e.g., cognitive ability, skills, personality) hypothesized to relate to superior job performance. Then, supervisory ratings of job performance and other criteria of on-the-job success are obtained. As the last step, these two sets of data, predictor and criterion, are correlated to examine which of the personal characteristics measured actually relates to job performance. In short, using the jargon of industrial psychology, this portion of our project may be described as a criterion-related validity study for the U.S. presidency using the criterion of historical greatness. Several researchers, including Simonton (1986a), McCann (1992), House et al. (1991), and Spangler and House (1991) have carried out similar work. However, none of these previous researchers has used (1) measures of personality standardized for non-self ratings, (2) the Big Five dimensions of personality, and (3) both global and facetlevel personality variables in their investigations. Measuring Historical Greatness Polls and public opinion ratings while a president is in office do not constitute good measures of job performance. They are subject to influence by daily events that may or may not be under the control of the president. Elections cannot be used as a success indicator either, since getting elected is a different matter than succeeding in office. Previous research by others (e.g., Seligman, 1998) shows that those who are more optimistic (at least in their speeches) tend to get elected. Yet, not all that are elected succeed. So how should we measure presidential success? One option is to rely on historian ratings of presidential greatness. Over a dozen polls of presidential greatness have been conducted (e.g., Maranell, 1970; Murray & Blessing, 1983; Ridings & McIver, 1997; Schlesinger, 1948). The intercorrelations among most surveys of historian ratings typically exceed .90

116

Quantitative Analysis

(Simonton, 1987). Given such high levels of convergent validity among different surveys, we decided to rely on two of the biggest and most recent studies for presidential historical greatness ratings. First, we used data from Murray and Blessing’s (1983) study. This is the largest and most comprehensive survey of historians on the topic. Murray and Blessing (1983) sent a 19-page questionnaire to all Ph.D.holding historians who were members of the American Historical Association. However, the bulk of the questionnaire was devoted to the background and possible biases of the raters. The actual rating of the presidents’ performance was a single item answered on a 1 to 5 scale. Nonetheless, the use of a single item scale to measure presidential greatness was mitigated by the use of a very large number (846) of historians who rated the greatness of the entire pool of U.S. presidents through 1983. Second, we used the overall historical greatness ratings and ranks presented by Ridings and McIver (1997). These authors queried 719 historians, asking them to assign ratings of job performance in five areas: (1) Leadership Qualities, (2) Accomplishments and Crisis Management, (3) Political Skill, (4) Appointments, and (5) Character and Integrity. Raters not only assigned performance ratings in each of these areas but also provided ratings of their relative importance. These ratings determined the weighting each facet received in the total score. Although Ridings and McIver reported only ranks in their book, we obtained the raw scores for the overall ratings from the authors. Analyses were run using both ranks and raw scores. The data presented by Ridings and McIver represent a more recent survey, allowing us to include the more recent presidents in our analyses (N ⫽ 41 presidents). To confirm that Murray and Blessing’s (1983) and Ridings and McIver’s (1997) ratings are highly consistent with each other, we computed the correlation between the results of the two surveys. The observed correlations among the historical greatness criteria were over .95 (not corrected for unreliability in the measures). For completeness sake, in our analyses, we used data from both surveys as parallel measures of the historical greatness criterion. Personality Factors Related to Attaining Historical Greatness In industrial-organizational (I/O) psychology literature, the best predictors (e.g., ability, job knowledge) of job performance produce correlations around .50 (Schmidt & Hunter, 1998; Schmidt et al., 1992). Across a wide spectrum of jobs, personality measures often correlate in the .15 to .40 range with supervisory ratings of job behaviors (Ones et al., 1994; Ones & Viswesvaran, 1996; Ones et al., 1993).2 The observed correlations

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives

117

Table 7.3 Correlations of the NEO Big Five Dimensions of Personality with Historian Ratings of Greatness

Note: Personality scores are based on the average of raters on each president. a Reverse scored for this study: Higher ranks indicate higher levels of historical greatness.

between the Big Five personality characteristics, as measured by the NEO PI-R and historical greatness ratings, are reported in the Table 7.3 and discussed in the following sections. Openness to Experience and Intelligence Of the Big Five dimensions of personality, Openness to Experience produced the highest correlation with historian ratings of greatness (r’s between .25 and .32). Historically great, high Openness presidents include Jefferson and Lincoln. Those that score low, like Grant and Taft, are judged less successful. The strongest correlations of greatness were found to be Openness to Feelings (r’s between .27 and .38), Openness to Values (r’s between .26 and .30), Openness to Actions (r’s between .23 and .27), and Openness to Aesthetics (r’s between .21 and .24). Openness to Ideas was a weaker predictor. Great presidents are attentive to their emotions, willing to question traditional values and try new ways of doing things, imaginative, and more interested in art and beauty than less successful chief executives. Openness to Experience is correlated in the .30s with indices of general cognitive ability (Costa & McCrae, 1992). Research by I/O psychologists over the past 85 years, across a broad spectrum of jobs, has confirmed that general mental ability is the best predictor of job performance (Campbell, 1996; Gottfredson, 1997; Salgado et al., in press; Schmidt & Hunter, 1998; Schmidt et al., 1992). We suspect that much of the relationship between Openness and ratings of presidential greatness can be explained by cognitive ability. Unfortunately, there are no direct measures of cognitive ability for all presidents to allow for a statistical test of

118

Quantitative Analysis

our hypothesis. However, another stream of work appears to lend support for our hypothesis. The identification of Openness as the best global Big Five predictor of greatness may be considered a replication of Simonton’s work (Simonton, 1986a, 1987, 1988). In Simonton’s work, this personality factor was labeled “Intellectual Brilliance” and was defined by adjectives such as interest-wide, artistic, inventive, curious, intelligent, sophisticated, complicated, insightful, wise, and idealistic. Thus, there is considerable conceptual overlap between the Openness dimension and Intellectual Brilliance. Simonton’s Intellectual Brilliance correlates .60 with the Murray and Blessing (1983) ratings of greatness, supporting the notion that cognitive ability is likely behind the prediction obtained for Openness. Indeed, in predicting presidential greatness, when Intellectual Brilliance is included in a regression equation along with the Openness dimension, there is a considerable decline in the standardized regression weight of Openness. Hence, we would like to suggest that cognitive ability is probably one of the best predictors of presidential success. Conscientiousness The Big Five trait most related to “character,” Conscientiousness correlated .17 with Ridings and McIver’s (1997) ratings, although the correlation with Murray and Blessing’s data was lower (.06). This is probably because the Ridings and McIver ratings explicitly included Integrity and Character as President as part of the overall historical greatness rating. The finding that Conscientiousness predicts greatness with a criterion-related validity of .17 is consistent with the work psychology literature (e.g., Barrick & Mount, 1991; Ones & Viswesvaran, 1996; Salgado et al., in press). Nonetheless, since this is a moderate correlation, one can find several successful presidents low in Conscientiousness. These include Andrew Jackson (U.S. percentile ⫽ 30.9), JFK (5.0), and most notably, FDR (27.4). Although two of the scores are not far below U.S. norms, they are quite a bit below the presidential mean, an overall highly Conscientious bunch. Some of the Conscientiousness facet scales emerged as clearly important correlates of presidential greatness ratings. Achievement Striving was one of the best correlates of greatness in the Oval Office (r’s between .32 and .39), and Competence was also an excellent predictor (r’s between .30 and .39). Presidents who succeed set ambitious goals for themselves and move heaven and earth to meet them. Teddy Roosevelt was such a man; Grant and Harding were not. Highly rated presidents tend to have good judgment and are broadly capable—like Washington and Eisenhower. Self-Discipline was also correlated with greatness ratings, but to a lesser degree (r’s between .17 and .26). Finally, low Order predicted historical greatness (r’s between ⫺.07 and ⫺.23). It seems that being a bit disorganized, like Lincoln, is somewhat of an asset for attaining historical greatness. This is consistent with

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives

119

McCann (1992), who found that Simonton’s (1986a) Tidiness factor is negatively related to presidential success. Extraversion Historically great presidents were slightly more Extraverted (r’s between .11 and .20): Extraverts like FDR were somewhat better presidents. Although Extraversion was a modestly related to success, one of its facets, Assertiveness, was the single most powerful personality predictor in our study. It showed correlations with the presidential greatness ranging from .34 to .44. Assertiveness can be thought of as dominance or general capacity for leadership. People who score high on this scale emerge as leaders many times in their lives and naturally take charge. They may also be forceful and dominant, but are not necessarily so. High Assertiveness, successful presidents include Jackson and Teddy Roosevelt; Harding and Coolidge scored low and were less effective chief executives. Somewhat less valuable were the Extraversion facets of Activity and Positive Emotions. The correlations of these variables with the criteria ranged between .23 and .30. Agreeableness Scores on this factor were of little value in predicting presidential greatness. In fact, Disagreeable presidents do somewhat better (r’s between ⫺.12 and ⫺.13), though the magnitude of the correlations is modest. While the overall scores on Agreeableness were of little worth, several facets of this personality trait proved to have value. TenderMindedness (concern for the less fortunate) had a moderately large correlation with attaining historical greatness (r’s between .28 and .34). Low scores on Straightforwardness (r’s of ⫺.28 and ⫺.29) predicted historical greatness remarkably well. Presidents who are not Straightforward use a variety of tactics to persuade people and achieve their ends—LBJ and FDR being prime examples. They are not above tricking, cajoling, bullying, or lying, if necessary. They are true politicians, playing the right tune to each crowd. Presidential greatness also correlated negatively, though at lower levels, with Compliance (r’s between ⫺.18 and ⫺.20). Great presidents are not cooperative and easily led. Warren Harding was, and it contributed to his downfall. Successful chief executives tend to be stubborn and ready to fight if picked on, like Teddy Roosevelt or Woodrow Wilson. Neuroticism Neuroticism was not highly correlated with presidential greatness (r’s between ⫺.02 and .04): It appears that both neurotic and emotionally stable presidents may attain historical greatness. However, there was a negative relationship (r’s ⫽ ⫺.23 to ⫺.26) with Vulnerability. Presidents

120

Quantitative Analysis

who feel unnerved by stress, who feel unable to cope with problems on their own, are likely to be given low marks by historians. Summary of Personality and Job Performance Findings To summarize our findings in this area, great presidents scored higher than their less successful peers on Openness to Experience, Assertiveness, Activity, Positive Emotions, Openness to Aesthetics, Feelings, Actions, Ideas and Values, Tender-Mindedness, Competence, SelfDiscipline, and Achievement Striving. Two of these traits, Assertiveness and Achievement Striving, were the most powerful predictors of greatness. Historically great presidents were low on Straightforwardness, Vulnerability, and somewhat low on Order. Overall, our results suggest that the Big Five personality dimensions and their facets, as measured by the NEO PI-R, are useful in the understanding and prediction of presidential greatness. PERSONALITIES OF INDIVIDUAL PRESIDENTS: ASSESSMENTS, ANALYSES, AND PORTRAITS In this section, we detail the procedures by which we produced objective personality portraits of each of the presidents. Because experts showed only modest agreement among themselves, we required at least three expert raters before attempting a portrait, and even then, we sought unanimous agreement on fine points before offering them as findings. Our rules of interpretation are described in detail in Appendix 7.1. The personality portraits consist of a chart of scores on the Big Five personality factors and a narrative personality description. In providing the chart of scores on the Big Five personality factors for a president, we include notation about areas of disagreement among raters. We then report the NEO PI-R facet scales on which the subject scored in the upper or lower 10th percentile among present-day Americans, with scores given in terms of percentiles relative to this same group. Where there was a considerable range of opinion among raters, we italicize the name of the scale and score. Elsewhere, we (Rubenzer et al., 2002) have presented portraits of Washington and Lincoln based on NEO PI-R scores. A narrative personality portrait follows scores. The descriptions are based on the exact items (e.g., “He is warm and friendly to strangers”) that our experts assessed as most descriptive of the man. The items are paraphrased to maintain the security of the instruments. Because raters assigned a rating to each item (i.e., 1 ⫽ very untrue, 9 ⫽ very true), each item had a score. In our personality portrait, we used only items that were rated more extreme for the president being profiled than for other presidents. To use a description, we required that its score be in the

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives

121

upper or lower 15% (approximately one-seventh) of all presidents, and that the separate raters generally agreed among themselves. Unlike the personality scores we reported earlier in the “Personality Scores of U.S. Presidents” section of this chapter, the standard of comparison for the narrative and individual description is other presidents— not typical Americans. This is because we know how each of the presidents scores on the items but don’t have similar data on a representative group of average Americans. We would expect presidents to score similarly to the U.S. norm on most items. As we saw earlier, presidents do score higher on Achievement Striving and Assertiveness, and lower on Straightforwardness and Modesty, but most other scores are not far from the American norms. In describing personality traits of individual presidents, we start each portrait with the item that received the highest or lowest rating compared to other presidents. A long item (“enjoys focusing on his daydreams, letting each one develop in its own way”) may form its own sentence, but more often descriptions from several items are combined to form a compound sentence. Once a personality trait is described, we list items describing similar traits (e.g., “is imaginative and dreamy”) before moving on to another theme. The items with the most extreme scores are presented first. This ordering holds true for the overall description, paragraphs, and individual sentences. We indicate how extreme the rating score is by use of modifiers such as “exceedingly,” “exceptionally,” “clearly,” to denote scores above the 99.9th, 99th, and 95th percentiles, respectively. A description that such and such a president was “not” warm and friendly means that he was rated in the lower 15% of presidents on this item—not merely that he was not rated highly. Although we could reverse the wording of such items, this could be misleading. Antonyms are not always psychological opposites. We indicate the relative magnitude of the “not” (and variations like “didn’t” and “wasn’t”) by adding emphasis through italics, underlining, capitalization (e.g., “NOT”), or a modifier (e.g., “decidedly” not). For truly low scores, combinations (“clearly not,” “certainly wasn’t”) or more extreme modifiers (e.g., “not at all”) are used. In some cases, we simply amplified the word in the original statement rather than adding a modifier. For example, we might change “liked” to “loved,” or “good” to “great.” All the descriptions that meet the criteria are included in the narrative unless they are redundant with another description that received a more extreme rating. Lastly, we emphasize that the personality descriptions reflect the opinions of our raters, relative to the opinions of raters of other presidents. As such, they are not facts, but rather a body of opinion. For example, relative to most presidents, Andrew Jackson was rated high on the item “Steals.” Based on our limited study of his life, we cannot cite one single

122

Quantitative Analysis

thing he ever stole. Presumably, our experts could. The point is, our evidence is different from that typically relied on by historians, biographers, or journalists but very similar to polls of presidential greatness. Our personality portraits are interspersed with brief anecdotes or quotes that illustrate and enliven the characteristics discussed. If a sentence is in quotations, or attributed to a particular person, or just plain idiosyncratic, then it is not part of our questionnaire or the formal data from our study. It is included to add variety. We attempted to enlist our raters as reviewers of each presidential portrait to ensure the biographical facts were correct and that the quotes and anecdotes were accurately represented. For almost every president profiled, we were able to obtain two reviewers. In Testing the Presidents (Rubenzer & Faschingbauer, 2002), we present portraits based on this method for 21 prominent chief executives, complete with introductory biography. Below, we illustrate our method on one of the more important and enigmatic of recent presidents. We profile Ronald Reagan’s personality strengths and weaknesses as identified by our previous analyses and identify presidents most and least similar to Mr. Reagan. Because of space limitations, we omit the supporting material (biography, quotations, summary of the administration, and ranking by historians) included in the book. Ronald Reagan: A Personality Portrait Based on Objective Personality Measures Six experts rated Reagan, and they showed very good agreement on his overall profile (average interrater rpa ⫽ .59,3 SD ⫽ .28). Reagan scores very high on Extraversion (U.S. percentile ⫽ 98.3), quite low on Neuroticism (3.6), and moderately low on Openness (10.4) and Conscientiousness (8.9). On the latter, his score is far below the average of other presidents. However, there is considerable range of opinion on this factor, with one rater assessing him as far below the first percentile and another at about the 85th percentile. Raters also showed considerable variation on Openness and Agreeableness. Ratings on Character (not shown) ranged nearly as widely as for Conscientiousness but were more centered on the U.S. average. On the NEO, Reagan scored as shown compared to current-day Americans. Scale names and scores in italics showed considerable variation among raters. Summaries of the personality data for Reagan are summarized in Table 7.4 and Figure 7.2. Reagan’s very low score on Openness to Values is a reflection of his traditional values and tendency to look to the church and tradition for guidance on moral issues. Reagan scored highest of all presidents on the NEO Openness to Fantasy scale and on Simonton’s Conservatism scale.

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives

123

Table 7.4 Scores of Ronald Reagan on the NEO PI-R Facet Scales

Note: Letters following scale name indicate the Big Five Factor to which the scale belongs. N ⫽ Neuroticism, E ⫽ Extraversion, O ⫽ Openness, A ⫽ Agreeableness, C ⫽ Conscientiousness.

He scored second highest on Simonton’s Wit scale. Some combinations of scores are interesting or unusual. Though very low on most aspects of Openness, he was very prone to daydream and fantasize (Openness to Fantasy). While he was reluctant to try new things (low Openness to Actions), he scored high on Excitement Seeking. Reagan definitely had a leisurely style and was very carefree, happygo-lucky, and spontaneous. “Show me an executive who works long, hard hours, and I’ll show you a bad executive,” he once quipped. He was undeniably humorous, laughed easily, and was happy and high spirited. When an opponent charged that teenage births had increased alarmingly since Reagan had been in office, he joked that he had never felt so young and virile. He appeared aware of the impression he made on people, but he showed his feelings and did not keep a tight rein on his needs or desires. He was optimistic and cheerful, laughed at the antics and jokes of those around him, and was enthusiastic, spirited, vivacious, and zestful. Strong emotions gave his life meaning. Charismatic, Reagan radiated personal magnetism and was greatly admired and held his followers in awe. He was talkative, good-looking, and was a bit of a thrill-seeker. He dramatized and called attention to himself, and was assured, confident, and proud. Reagan did not worry excessively and had fewer fears than other people. Things rarely seemed hopeless to him, and he was seldom sad, dejected, or lonely. He was not thin-skinned, sensitive to personal slights, or moody. Reagan had a clear sense of meaning in life, rarely if ever felt worthless, and was not self-conscious. “A man of almost supernatural

124

Quantitative Analysis

Figure 7.2 Ronald Reagan’s Scores on the Big Five Personality Factors Relative to Average Americans and Other Presidents

calm and self-certainty,” commented his official biographer. He didn’t sabotage his own goals through actions or behavior that was selfdefeating. He coped well under stress, didn’t blame himself if things went wrong, and wasn’t upset by minor problems. Reagan was decidedly shallow, unintellectual, and unreflective,4 yet clearly skilled at imaginative play. He had an active imagination and often viewed his problems as president in terms of movie plots and motifs. During a high-level discussion of the MX missile, his only contribution to the meeting was to relate the lesson of the movie War Games. He did not approach problems in a quantitative, scientific manner, was not good with numbers, and lost interest in abstract, theoretical discussions. Reagan tended to “accept as fact any opinion, story, or rumor that tended to support his own view.”5 He did not believe that the values of other cultures or people might be valid for those other cultures or people, and he looked to traditional religious authority on moral issues. Nonetheless, in day-to-day dealings, he liked to keep options open. He was able to persuade others, but he lacked an exceptional vocabulary.6 Reagan did not feel that “society can never do too much for the elderly and poor.”7 Yet, at the same time he was slashing human service benefits, he would write personal checks to people who approached him with their problems. His son Ron offered insight on how to sway his

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives

125

Figure 7.3 Ronald Reagan’s Personality Strengths and Liabilities as President (Presidential Norms)

father on a social issue: Bring him a real live person with that problem. Ironically, other people wanted to take care of and nurture him, and he was trusting of people. He was reluctant to express anger, “lenient, uncritical, undemanding,” and not condescending toward others. We turn now to recent assessments of Reagan’s performance as president and his personality assets and liabilities for the job. In the Ryder and McIver poll, Reagan received an overall ranking of 26th, scoring 9th in Political Skill but a lowly 39th in Appointments and Character and Integrity. However, since he has been out of office for less than 30 years, it may be too early to determine his long-term “historical greatness.” Figure 7.3 shows the profile of Reagan’s strengths and weakness as president. A high score on Positive Emotions is more than offset by low ratings in Achievement Striving, Competence, and Tender-Mindedness. Taken together, Reagan’s personality scores predict a president who eventually will be rated in the lower third among his peers.8 With his low scores on Conscientiousness, the Reagan administration was vulnerable to ethical problems and scandal.9 Ratings from our generalists, who specifically rated job performance in these areas, assessed these factors as weak points in Reagan’s presidency. His low score on Conscientiousness is interesting for another reason. Republican values of hard work, competence, and devotion to principle are all parts of this factor. According to our data, Reagan, the hero of conservatives, did not personally embody some of the virtues he represented.

126

Quantitative Analysis

Comparing his personality ratings to other presidents, Reagan most resembled Harding (.54), William Henry Harrison (.25), Kennedy (.25), and FDR (.24). He was least like John Q. Adams (⫺.34), Hoover (⫺.27), and Nixon (⫺.27). SUMMARY AND DISCUSSION The broad goal of our project was to evaluate the utility of supplementing the “poetry” of biography and history with the “common language” of standard personality tests, such as the NEO PI-R. We anticipated that disagreements among presidential experts due to how they conceptualize or “language” their observations might be reduced in this way. We wondered if those most knowledgeable about the presidents would be willing, or even able, to use standardized personality tests. Can historians and biographers think and respond in ways compatible with standard personality measures? We believe that the answer to this question is a resounding “yes.” Any one approach to studying personality is bound to have both strengths and weaknesses. That is one of the reasons we collected data from both those who knew individual presidents in depth (specialists) and from scholars and authors who had studied presidents as a group (generalists). In this discussion, we will focus on the former approach, which is our preferred method. Unique Strengths of Our Approach There are two major considerations in studying personality at a distance: defining the data source and determining how to tap it. We sought experts who had studied a president in depth. The great majority of our raters were biographers and historians, who we believe to be the most desirable source of personality judgments. Unlike family or those who might serve on a president’s staff, biographers typically interview dozens or even hundreds of people who knew their subject president, from his second grade teacher to his college roommates. They study lives over time and from divergent vantage points. They read letters and diary entries. Many biographies begin with the story of grandparents or great grandparents, and describe in detail the region and people where the future president came of age. In short, biographers have perspective. They can put an anecdote in its proper context, take account of the man’s mood and circumstances in which it occurred, and bring to bear all the subtleties with which intelligent people appraise each other. This does not mean that two experts will necessarily agree, and in fact, they often don’t. But areas of disagreement between experts can be as interesting as those on which they agree. One final virtue of biographers and schol-

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives

127

ars was decisive: They were the only type of rater with in-depth knowledge of individual presidents available for all 41 presidents. Having chosen our data source, we had to determine how to best mine it. The Revised NEO Personality Inventory Form R was an obvious choice. Aside from the much older Taylor-Johnson Temperament Survey, the NEO PI-R was at the time the only standardized personality inventory developed for use with third-party informants. The NEO PI-R has undergone a rigorous program of validation and is one of the most widely used inventories today in personality research. It has also received very positive professional reviews (Botwin, 1995; Hess, 1992; Tinsley, 1994; Widiger, 1992; but see also Juni, 1995). Because it is normed, for the first time we can compare scores of presidents to those of typical Americans. The California Q-sort lacks norms, but is a thoughtfully developed, widely used personality instrument. Goldberg’s adjective clusters provide an instrument based in common English but also based on rigorous empirical research from the lexical tradition. Like the NEO, the Q-sort and Goldberg’s adjective clusters are intended to cover the full range of human personality differences. However, Almagor et al., (1995) held that inventories that omit highly evaluative terms, as most do, neglect legitimate dimensions of personality. Therefore, we also included items to measure both exceptionally positive (gifted, special; Positive Valance) and negative (evil, wicked; Negative Valence) descriptions, as well as items to tap abilities and character. Utilizing the above sources, we believe our item pool is exceptionally broad and representative of human personality differences. The use of multiple, widely used personality measures places our findings in the mainstream of research on personality and related areas such as leadership and the relation of personality to job performance. This is very important for our ability to perform some analyses, such as identifying predictors of presidential greatness. Any statistical test with an N of 41 has modest ability to detect genuine relationships. Knowing what traits predict job performance in all occupations (e.g., Ones et al., 1993; Schmidt et al., 1992), or among managers and CEOs, provides a valuable guide to our analyses (e.g., Ones et al., 2000). Another questionnaire issue was the format in which raters were asked to provide their answers. The NEO PI-R is answered on a 5-point Likert Scale, and the Q-sort and Goldberg adjectives on a 9-point scale. We adopted this latter format for all other items on the questionnaire. It has long been known that greater numbers of Likert scale options increase the reliability of the ratings obtained. Recent studies have suggested that item level ratings from even a single rater can be more reliable than previously thought (Conway & Huffcutt, 1997; Wanous & Reichers, 1996; Wanous et al., 1997). Although we limited item level interpretation to those presidents with at least three raters, this allowed us to view our

128

Quantitative Analysis

subjects with an unparalleled level of resolution and detail. Formal justification of this procedure is presented elsewhere (Rubenzer et al., 1999) and can be obtained from the first author of the chapter. Our questionnaire had 592 items that gauged personality traits, abilities, and behaviors as president. This is an embarrassment of riches and warrants some scheme of organization. Fortunately, our findings can be discussed on four hierarchical levels of abstraction, from the two superfactors identified by Digman (1997; Ones, 1993; Ones & Viswesvaran, in press), the Big Five factors, the 30 facet scales that comprise the Big Five, and the 592 individual items. Because the Big Five Model is a widely recognized taxonomy with demonstrated empirical relations to most other personality frameworks, results from other studies and approaches can be appraised in a common theoretical framework. Because of the comprehensiveness of the item pool and scales included in our questionnaire, it is a relatively simple matter to test propositions arising from other studies against our data. The large number of items has additional benefits as well. For most presidents, dozens of items meet the specified criteria of being descriptive and showing good agreement across raters. Such a number of descriptors makes feasible, for the first time, the sort of empirically based narrative we presented above for Ronald Reagan. Item level interpretation is epistemologically closer to the opinions of the expert raters than are scale scores and may capture subtleties missed on aggregate measures. Wanous and Reichers (1996) and Wanous et al. (1997) make a similar point in a work setting: Single item measures of job satisfaction are more interpretable and intrinsically meaningful to managers than are scale scores. The advantages of item level analysis apply to the typology analysis as well: Presidents are simultaneously compared on hundreds of qualities and the groupings that emerge are based on a totality of personality rather than a handful of traits. Lastly, items can be used to refine our understanding of personality predictors. If Assertiveness is associated with better performance in office, we can explore which of the eight items carried the weight of the relationship. Weaknesses of Our Approach Weaknesses of our method include: (1) The difficulty obtaining participation of expert raters, especially for obscure presidents and for candidates just emerging on the political landscape; (2) differing response styles across raters who assess different presidents; (3) inability to justify our raters’ judgments without further investigation; and (4) the difficulty of obtaining a representative sample of raters and potential bias of the expert raters. The first point appears to need no elaboration. Pertaining to the second

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives

129

point, a disadvantage of using experts who have studied one or a few presidents in great depth is that we had to have many different raters to cover all the presidents. Some may be critical, some lenient; some may look for some traits and be obtuse in the assessment of others. If a single rater could rate all the presidents, as our generalists did, these idiosyncratic response styles would be equally distributed across all presidents. Although some of our specialist raters assessed as many as five presidents, the vagaries of different raters and their response styles contribute to error variance in the ratings we obtained. For some applications, these problems can be partially counteracted by ipsatizing the item responses for a given rater. Expanding on the third issue, without further study, we cannot easily investigate raters’ opinions or the bases for them. If they endorse an item as true of a particular president, we do not know why they did so. Although we could potentially query individual raters, with 592 items and the lapse of some nearly five years since they provided their ratings, this is not likely to be done for the majority of our data points. We accept our data at face value but with knowledge of its limitations. The last issue, representativeness and potential bias of raters, is potentially the most problematic. Unfortunately, there is no way to know if the sample is representative without identifying the universe of potential expert raters and sampling their opinions as well. If some people do not respond or are hostile to initial inquiries, there is no way to know for sure the ratings obtained from those that do participate are representative. Some biographies are written by ardent admirers, others by vehement critics. Although we attempted to avoid such sources by using respected authors, strong biases will substantially affect the scores assigned on personality scales. This may be an acute problem when only a small number of raters per president is obtained, or if those that respond to the survey are at odds with data from Simonton or our generalists. Fortunately, this is relatively unusual: The different data sets show good general agreement. Nonetheless, all data sets that rely on perceptions of the subject’s personality may be influenced by similar sources of error—the common body of observations and anecdotes that comprise reputation of these very public figures. Test taker response styles have been extensively studied in a number of settings, including medical, research, and personnel selection situations. The consensus is that although image management attempts can change mean scores, validity is relatively unaffected (Hough et al., 1990; Ones et al., 1996; Ones & Viswesvaran, 1998). Evaluative variance (overly positive or negative bias) is often confounded with true trait variance (McCrae & Costa, 1983; Ones et al., 1996): People who are rated as very positive also score higher on measures of positive traits (e.g., emotional stability and conscientiousness) assessed through independent means.

130

Quantitative Analysis

Attempts to adjust or control for response styles have typically been counterproductive (Ellingson et al., 1999; Hough, 1998; Ones et al., 1996). Still, it must be acknowledged that this issue has not been studied in settings where the extremes of both positive and negative response styles are present. Inaccurate ratings can occur for reasons other than distortion or idiosyncratic interpretation. Eisenhower was widely viewed as a passive, disengaged president during his eight years in office (Kengor, 1998). He was observed to play golf 150 days per year and did not take credit for many of the initiatives he actually undertook. Only many years later did memoirs emerge that portrayed a much more active president. Descriptions of Ike as passive and uninvolved in policy decisions were an accurate reflection of his persona and public image, but not of the man in office. Although this example refers to presidential behavior rather than personality, it is conceivable that some presidents managed to conceal or obscure some of their qualities and actions even from their closest friends and associates. Thomas Jefferson’s alleged affair with Sally Hemings may be the premier example. Technically, our findings are a quantification of a sample of expert perceptions of a president’s personality, as gauged in 1995. Still, we regard our data as the best assessment of expert opinion available at present. Potential Improvements In our view, the most pressing current limitation of our data set is the small number of raters for some presidents, particularly those assessed by only one expert (N ⫽ 8). These ratings are likely to be unreliable, which compromises the stability of the personality typology and the reliable assignment of those presidents rated by a single rater to a particular type. The limits to reliability also deflate correlations with outside variables, such as greatness. From the beginning of our project, we intended that our portraits would be edited and further honed by comments from our experts. We imagined a process in which the raters who participated would review our narratives (which were based on personality inventory items) and make suggestions for refinements. Next, we would poll the experts who contributed to the initial portrait to accept or reject the proposed changes. Unfortunately, many of our raters did not respond to invitations to review our work, and those that did often focused on historical and biographical details more than the personality descriptions. Nonetheless, some interesting comments were obtained. For example, although Teddy Roosevelt was described as “acts without thinking” by majority opinion, one expert objected: “not true—he just thought quickly.” Of course, this does not resolve the issue, but it does help sharpen it for future discus-

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives

131

sion. Because we cite item level results in everyday English, scholars from other disciplines should find them more accessible and more stimulating of debate than scores on an abstract personality scale. We view this process as one that will gradually lead to more precise understanding of each chief executive.

Applications to New Populations In applying our method to recent presidents, there seems little question of the applicability of items or norms from the NEO PI-R. In approaching the Founding Fathers, however, greater skepticism is warranted. As indicated above, we view current U.S. norms as a benchmark. In future studies of political and historical figures, norms for the U.S. presidents that we developed may be useful in the same way. As more groups (e.g., artists, historical figures, scientists) are assessed, it may be useful to plot raw scores or anchored scores (Hofstee & Hendriks, 1998), with averages from various groups given as reference points. Ultimately, such reference points might be used to define divisions on a scale, much as the freezing and boiling points of water do on the Fahrenheit and Celsius temperature scales.

CONCLUSION Our approach offers an uncommonly direct appraisal of the personalities of all presidents up to Clinton. Multiple expert judgments are organized and focused by widely used and respected personality instruments. In this chapter, we have illustrated how our data can be used to describe and classify chief executives and to predict their performance as president. We described how we created individual personality portraits for the presidents and illustrated our approach using Ronald Reagan. We plan to continue to add to our data set on the presidents and to extend our work to other major historic figures. We believe that there are unique insights and findings from our project that will stimulate thinking about both personality and its role in history.

APPENDIX 7.1: PRODUCING OBJECTIVE PERSONALITY PORTRAITS: SELECTING ITEMS FOR USE IN THE PORTRAITS For presidents rated by four or more raters, an item was included in the personality narrative for an individual president (as opposed to a presidential type) only if:

132

Quantitative Analysis

1. The score on that item, averaged across all raters for that president and compared to all presidents, was in the top or lower 15% among presidents, and 2. The variance among raters for that president was half or less the variance among all presidents rated on that item, or all raters agreed that the president scored in the upper or lower one third of presidents, consistent with the direction (high or low) of the average score.

If a president were rated by three raters, criterion #2 was made more stringent: 2A. The variance among raters for that president was half or less the variance among all presidents rated, and all raters agreed that the president scored in the upper or lower one third of presidents. However, if all three raters produced scores that are above or below 15% of all presidents, the requirement for limited variance was dropped.

Items that met these criteria were considered for our profiles. All items that received a total rating above the 95th percentile or below the 5th percentile were used unless clearly redundant with another, more highly rated item. Those items with less extreme ratings were dropped if judged superfluous. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS The Personality and the Presidency Project is an ongoing endeavor to objectively assess the personality of each U.S. president and understand the role of personality in the nation’s highest office. Throughout this chapter, the male pronouns (he, his, him, etc.) are used here simply because no U.S. presidents to date have been female. No gender insensitivity is intended by doing so. Up-to-date information regarding our project is available at our web site, www. TestingThePresidents.com.

NOTES 1. The scores in this and the next section are based on averages of T scores, which are then converted to percentiles. We report percentile scores to the first decimal point. This is to provide accurate translation of standard scores on which they are based, and is not meant to imply that we have measured trait levels with great precision. 2. In interpreting bivariate correlations, Cohen (1988) suggests that correlations of at least .10 in magnitude may be interpreted as small effects. Correlations of at least .25 may be interpreted as medium effects, and correlations at or above .40 may be interpreted as large effects. 3. However, it should be noted that the average interrater rpa observed increases as the number of raters increases, and the rpa norms McCrae (1993) cited are based on two raters.

Assessments of America’s Chief Executives

133

4. One rater, WA, wrote us on a related issue: “to the contrary, when I have written personally to him to criticize a reported remark, he has replied in his own hand with a substantive, theoretical defense of his position.” 5. WE, Personality and the Presidency Project data sheet. 6. According to WA, it wasn’t that Reagan didn’t know the words but that he worked “exceedingly hard to convey important truths with unexceptional vocabularies.” 7. This is an accurate paraphrase of the actual item, and Reagan was rated quite low on it. However, a reviewer indicated that Reagan would strongly distinguish society’s from government’s role in charity. 8. However, it should be remembered that our personality and ability scores predict historians’ ratings of greatness with a multiple R of about .50 (25% of variance accounted for). 9. Problems with scandals may be related to low Conscientiousness through a president’s lack of restraint or principles, or failing to maintain accountability of one’s subordinates.

Part III

Qualitative Analysis: Contributions to the Study of Personality and Behavior

Chapter 8

Studying Images and Their Impact on Behavior: The Case of the Carter Administration Jerel Rosati

INTRODUCTION Since President Carter left office, disagreements have continued among scholars over the foreign policy beliefs and orientation of the administration and its implications for foreign policy behavior. The Carter Administration, thus, seemed to be a particularly excellent case to study from a political psychological perspective in order to explore how the study of beliefs may advance our understanding of foreign policy. This resulted in a number of publications including the book The Carter Administration’s Quest for Global Community: Beliefs and Their impact on Behavior (Rosati, 1987; see also 1984, 1990, 1993). Briefly, I found that President Carter and his administration entered office with an initial optimistic and conscious world order approach that was intended to supplant the cold war (and detente) policies of their predecessors. My research attempted to contribute to an understanding of the early foreign policy optimism and idealism of President Jimmy Carter and his administration, the disagreements that arose between Secretary of State Cyrus Vance and National Security Adviser Zbigniew Brzezinski, and why a more pessimistic image arose and the containment policies reminiscent of the cold war past were reinstated by the final year of office. My research accomplished this principally through a psychological and systematic analysis of the foreign policy images of Carter, Vance, and Brzezinski. The study examined what their initial images were, how and why their beliefs evolved in office, and how this impacted the administration’s foreign policy behavior over time. Since the content of the Carter administration’s beliefs and their impact on behavior has

138

Qualitative Analysis

been fully described elsewhere as indicated above, the focus of this chapter is to describe the underlying research strategy for examining foreign policy images and their implications for behavior. This is significant for two major methodological reasons. First, this work addresses the critical methodological question of how to infer and determine the images of political leaders. In this respect, the study discusses the importance of identifying and inferring the operational beliefs of decision makers and describes the particular research strategy used in this comparative case study over time. It is important to point out that although most studies systematically examine the foreign policy beliefs of one key leader, this study analyzes multiple decision makers. Also, although most systematic studies on perceptions and beliefs tend to be static, this study examines the level of stability and change in policy maker images over time. Second, the relationship between beliefs and behavior is examined. Where most political psychological work on cognition assumes that beliefs are important for shaping subsequent behavior, this basic assumption has rarely been tested. Thus, this study specifically addresses the relationship between the images and behavior over the tenure of the Carter administration. To address the methodology used in the study, the chapter is organized into three major parts. The first part discusses the significant issue of inferring images of policy makers and describes the research method used for the Carter administration policy makers. The second part discusses the importance of examining the link between beliefs and behavior, and describes the research method used for determining the Carter administration’s foreign policy behavior and it relationship to their images (with a brief description of the findings for each part). The concluding part addresses the implications of analyzing images and behavior for the study of political psychology and foreign policy in general. INFERRING AND CONTENT-ANALYZING BELIEFS AND IMAGES What policy makers believe is consequential for understanding foreign policy and world politics. One thing all cognitive approaches share is an excellent perspective for determining actual contents of the beliefs, images, and preferences held by policy makers. A cognitive approach allows one to examine any aspect of a policy maker’s foreign policy beliefs and images considered to be of interest and value so as to contribute to better understanding foreign policy: from very broad and general images to very specific beliefs and preferences. This is significant, since historians, social scientists, and observers of foreign policy and world politics often make judgments but disagree on the content of policy maker beliefs, preferences, and intentions (see Rosati, 1995, 2000).

The Case of the Carter Administration

139

Image Theory and Worldviews As stated above, this study focused on the Carter administration and the general images and worldviews held by key officials. The term worldview in this study refers to an image of the international system. It is argued that policy makers choose policy and base governmental actions upon their perceptions and images of the international system. It is almost inconceivable to imagine that policy makers make decisions and have their governments act without any reference to the basic structures and processes which they believe exist in the international system. Focusing on an image of the international system is consistent with other elite image studies and image theory. In order to determine a policy maker’s image of the international system, there are two elements of primary interest: images of the current international system and images of a preferred future international system. To determine a policy maker’s current image of the international system it is necessary to examine the perception of the two elements that are fundamental in describing systemic structures and processes: actors and issues. How policy makers perceive key actors and issues throughout the world will result in images that vary along a continuum—of simplicity to complexity—with differing foreign policy implications. To fully understand an actor’s foreign policy behavior, it is important to incorporate his or her perception of a future international system that he or she would like to promote. Given the likelihood that most individuals have little long-term future perspective, our concern must be with very general future images and the nature of global change. In sum, an image of the international system can be described by addressing the following questions: 1. What is the current nature of the international system? a. What are the most important issues? b. Who are the most important actors? 2. What is the likely (and preferable) future of the international system? a. What is the nature of global change?

How policy makers view the world and its future will have a direct effect on their choice of policy and on their subsequent foreign policy behavior (Figure 8.1 summarizes the relationship). Content Analysis, Inferring Images, and Identifying Operational Beliefs The delineation of the Carter administration’s worldview is based upon a content analysis of public statements made by the major admin-

Figure 8.1 Summary of an Actor’s Image of the International System

The Case of the Carter Administration

141

istration officials—President Jimmy Carter, National Security Adviser Brzezinski, and Secretary of State Vance (later replaced by Edmund Muskie)—throughout their four years in office. The result is a comparative case study longitudinally oriented in that I examine one “general” case over time by disaggregating the Carter administration’s foreign policy into four separate time categories based upon a different year—an excellent break point due to the annual “State of the Union” address, in which the president usually attempts to set the blueprint and tone for the year. As with any research method, there are a number of problems that must be addressed to ensure a high degree of validity. In this context it is important to recall Philip Converse’s (1964: 206) remark that “belief systems have never surrendered easily to empirical study or quantification.” Two major problems concerning validity exist that complicate the utilization of content analysis: access (of relevant sources) and inference (of actual beliefs). In determining the beliefs of public officials, multiple sources of information may be available, including public statements, transcripts of private discussions (archival and government documents), interviews with the participants, and memoirs. These represent more direct sources for inferring beliefs in contrast to more indirect sources such as oral histories and various secondary sources (beliefs have also been inferred from examining overt behavior, but this is potentially tautological). Obviously, it would be optimal to have access to and integrate all the various sources—especially those more direct—to maximize valid inferences of policy maker beliefs. However, usually there is limited availability of different sources, and one must be selective in their choice of data. Closely related to the issue of source access is the more significant problem of inference. Whatever data one utilizes, the inference of beliefs from the content of the message is problematic. A continuous debate has ensued regarding whether most communications by policy makers are representative of their beliefs, or whether they are purely instrumental and targeted to persuade a specific audience (see George, 1959; Osgood, 1959). As suggested by I. S. Pool (1959) long ago, most communications are likely to contain both elements—representational and instrumental. The dual problem of access to sources and inference are serious ones and must be minimized. Therefore, although there are no easy rules on how to proceed to ensure a valid content analysis, the investigator must “approach available documentary evidence with the same skills and skepticism as the well-trained historian” (Holsti, 1977: 48). In addressing these problems, this study distinguished between three overlapping types of beliefs: private beliefs, public beliefs, and operational beliefs. Private beliefs are what an individual believes as an individual—that is, in the privacy of his or her surroundings. Public beliefs are beliefs that

142

Qualitative Analysis

Figure 8.2 Beliefs and Their Relationship for Behavior

an individual expresses in a social environment. Operational beliefs are those beliefs to which an individual subscribes to as an actual decision maker. The private, public, and operational belief distinction is important and too often not addressed by those who study beliefs and images. Since this study examines the beliefs of political leaders in their role as government officials, it is of fundamental importance to concentrate on a policy maker’s operational beliefs. The operational beliefs that individuals utilize as policy makers are most likely to be comprised of a composite of both private and public beliefs (see Figure 8.2). Whether a particular private or public belief (assuming a difference) is likely to motivate an individual as a decision maker depends principally upon the state of mind of the decision maker and the nature of the situation. The Research Strategy Utilized Given the contemporary topic of the Carter administration during the early 1980s, I relied primarily on their public statements and, consequently, their public beliefs for inferring their operational images as policy makers. White House transcripts or internal memoranda of the Carter administration were not available (and much still remains classified). Also, interviews (as well as memoirs later published), although they may be insightful, would be based on personal and normally biased recollections of the past. Although the use of public statements poses a potential problem concerning “authorship,” this is a minimal problem for Carter administration officials, where major speeches were often written by the

The Case of the Carter Administration

143

principal policy maker and were cleared by the White House, very often personally by President Carter (see Marder, 1978; Weintraub, 1986). Public beliefs may in fact be quite meaningful in describing operational beliefs—especially general ones as opposed to specific beliefs—that motivate policy makers, especially for the Carter administration. Four general reasons can be offered to support the use of public statements as relatively valid indicators of the operational beliefs of political leaders. First, official declarations often act as a “constraint” on political leaders through the statements’ impact on other actors within the environment (Snyder, 1958). Statements by public officials “contribute to the creation of a number of expectations both within and without the country” and “influence the basis upon which other actors make their decisions” (Brodin, 1972: 105). Second, public officials are under constant scrutiny, and they must maximize their “credibility” if they are to exercise leadership and stay in power. This is particularly true in democratic societies where official decision makers are likely to be subjected to a certain amount of pressure to act in accordance with previous declarations (Brodin, 1972: 107). The third reason why public statements are important sources of the operational beliefs of individuals is that “an actor may influence himself by his own declarations” (Snyder, 1958: 32). This is in accordance with cognitive dissonance theory (Festinger, 1957) and Bem’s (1967) theory of self-perception. Finally, Carter administration officials were very open and forthright in their public statements. According to diplomatic historian Gaddis Smith (1986: vi), “the archival record for the 1970s will not be available to historians for decades. But it is my conviction that the Carter Administration was unusually open about its purposes and activities. Members of the Administration spoke candidly and in detail to the press, to congressional committees, and to the public” (see also Weintraub, 1986). To ensure that the analyzed statements of the Carter administration were valid and highly expressive, two complementary approaches were employed. A quantitative content analysis was performed on the most significant and general public statements. In addition, a qualitative content analysis of all Carter administration public statements available at the time was conducted. “Quantitative” content analysis was conducted on 60 significant and general public statements made by the key policy makers. Significant public statements on the topic of foreign policy were the most useful for determining the policy makers’ images. Since the study was concerned with very general images of the international system, statements were chosen if they had a relatively general orientation, with broad issue area and geographic coverage. Public addresses are particularly revealing because unlike press conferences, for example, speeches are initiated by the

144

Qualitative Analysis

Table 8.1 Number of Major Statements by Officials

official. The significance level of public statements was determined by two criteria: the level of formality and transcript appearance. The more formal the audience (e.g., joint session of Congress) and the occasion (e.g., State of the Union), the more significant the speech. Perceived importance was also indicated if a speech was transcribed in a major forum (e.g., State Department Bulletin). Table 8.1 depicts the breakdown of the number of major speeches that were examined by policy maker and by year. Table 8.2 provides a selective illustration of the major public speeches made by, in this case, President Carter. Once the public statements were identified, a thematic content analysis was performed. The themes within each public speech were coded in order to determine the most important international issues and actors actually perceived by the Carter administration, and why (see Table 8.3 for a breakdown of thematic statements by policy maker and year). In developing the initial coding manual, a pre-test was conducted to determine the universe of issues and actors that were perceived by the Carter administration. The actual coding of the public speeches was based on an open-ended approach, so if a unique issue or actor was mentioned, it was coded into a new category. An “open-ended” coding approach was crucial in determining what issues and actors the Carter administration perceived to exist in the international environment and why. A coding scheme that lacked this flexibility would code public statements into preconceived categories that probably would not have reflected the actual perceptions of the policy makers. Specifically, the public statements were coded in accordance with the image of the international system described above. Over 3,000 themes were found (in which the intracoder reliability of the coding of the speeches produced a .84 agreement score). Following the coding, the specific issue and actors mentioned were consolidated (recoded) into 11 general issues categories and eight general actor categories as reflected in the perceptions of the policy makers. The general issue and actor categories were subsequently examined based upon a descriptive analysis

Table 8.2 Illustration of Major Statements by President Carter

146

Qualitative Analysis

Table 8.3 Thematic Statements by Officials

Note: N refers to the number of thematic statements. Totals may not add up to 100 due to rounding.

of frequency distributions (as will be briefly described below under findings). A “qualitative” content analysis was also conducted in order to fully determine the Carter administration’s image of the international system. In addition to the most significant statements, other public statements such as interviews, press conferences, and other speeches were qualitatively analyzed to determine the issues, the actors, and the nature of global change perceived by the Carter administration throughout the international system (most of these were located in American Foreign Policy Basic Documents, 1977–1980, Department of Defense Selected Statements, Department of State Bulletin, Public Papers of the Presidents, and Weekly Compilation of Presidential Documents). Other primary and secondary sources were integrated where appropriate to shed light on the Carter administration’s images. As suggested by Alexander George (1959: 7), “qualitative analysis of a limited number of crucial communications may often yield better clues to the particular intentions of a particular speaker at one moment in time than more standardized quantitative methods.” In determining the Carter administration’s image of the international system, a two-step process was used. The most salient issues and actors perceived by the Carter administration were derived by the quantitative content analysis, while their particular significance for the image was based more on the qualitative content analysis. In other words, the qualitative analysis provided an important context for understanding the quantitative findings. The quantitative content analysis had its greatest validity and usefulness in providing general findings to the Carter administration’s beliefs and behavior at the collective level—primarily due to the limited number of statements made by Carter in 1979 and by Brzezinski in 1977, 1978, and 1980 (review Tables 8.1 and 8.3). The qual-

The Case of the Carter Administration

147

itative content analysis was most helpful for determining individual images and comparing their similarities and differences, as well as for describing the content of the beliefs concerning the future of the international system (given the few references made by the principal policy makers). Together, qualitative and quantitative content analyses serve as important complements in maximizing valid inferences of the beliefs of political leaders (Cook & Reichardt, 1979), and minimize the debate between the representational and instrumental schools of thought. According to Krippendorff (1980: 49), “content analysis research designs have to be context sensitive.” Therefore, the content analyses “should use qualitative and quantitative methods to supplement each other. It is by moving back and forth between these approaches that the investigator is most likely to gain insight into the meaning of his data” (Holsti, 1969: 11). By conducting both quantitative and qualitative content analyses, the determination of the Carter administration’s image of the international system was maximized.

The Carter Administration’s Image over Time The research strategy described above resulted in four fundamental stages that emerged in the Carter administration’s evolution of its image of the international system, each of which has important implications for understanding American foreign policy in the late 1970s. The first stage occurred in the first year, when the primary Carter policy makers shared a similar perception of a very complex and diverse international system. A variety of issues were deemed to be of global significance and, therefore, worthy of attention. The system was portrayed as highly interdependent and pluralistic, where no actor—including the United States and the Soviet Union—was considered willing or able to dominate international behavior. Of the three officials under study, President Carter maintained the most optimistic image of the Soviet Union and the future of the international system, while National Security Adviser Brzezinski was the least optimistic. As a result of this generally shared image, the Carter administration was primarily concerned with ushering in an era of cooperation and peace—a quest for global community. During the second year the consensus in collective image began to collapse. President Carter and Secretary of State Vance adhered to an image of global complexity and global community, and they remained optimistic about the future of American foreign policy and the world. However, individual differences emerged as Brzezinski became more pessimistic about the Soviet Union and the future of the international system. In particular, Brzezinski began to place greater emphasis on

148

Qualitative Analysis

political-military issues and the need to respond to Soviet foreign interventionism, especially in Africa. The third stage was reached in 1979, when dissensus and disagreement became the norm. Although the concern with foreign intervention in Africa receded, differences in individual images continued to sharpen to the point where intra-administration schisms intensified and a major split developed between Vance and Brzezinski. Vance stuck to a vision of a complex international system, remaining optimistic about a new world order. In contrast, Brzezinski perceived an increasingly fragmented and unstable international system open to foreign interventionism. During this time Carter grew more skeptical and wavered between Vance’s optimism and Brzezinski’s pessimism, resulting in the escalation of policy conflict that plagued the Carter administration. Thus, in 1979, two images of the international system competed for ascendancy. The final stage was observed in 1980 when the administration’s image changed completely. The resignation of Vance and the turnabout in Carter’s perception restored a homogeneous outlook to the White House during the final year. This was due to the Iranian hostage crisis and, in particular, the Soviet military intervention in Afghanistan. Global change was no longer looked upon positively—the complex world was too turbulent, unstable, and dangerous. Political-military issues rose to the top of the administration’s agenda, and the Soviet Union received a disproportionate amount of attention. With the Soviet Union expanding into the “third strategic zone within the arc of crisis,” the Carter administration emphasized the containment of Soviet expansionism and the promotion of global stability (Table 8.4 provides a summary). DETERMINING BEHAVIOR AND ITS LINK TO POLICY MAKER IMAGES A considerable amount of research over the years has been conducted in analyzing the significance of individual attitudes and beliefs. All of this work has been based on one fundamental assumption: that beliefs are major sources of behavior and, therefore, explain and predict human action. As stated by Kenneth Boulding (1969: 423), “we must recognize that the people whose decisions determine the policies and actions of nations do not respond to the ‘objective’ facts of the situation. It is what we think the world is like, not what it is really like, that determines our behavior.” Unfortunately, this assumption is so embedded in the attitudinal research that the relationship between beliefs and behavior has rarely been tested and demonstrated. The results of the few studies conducted in social and political psychology have been inconsistent and indicate that the link between individual beliefs and behavior is quite complex and

The Case of the Carter Administration

149

Table 8.4 Summary of the Carter Administration’s Images of the International System

varied (see Calder & Ross, 1973; Eagly & Chaiken, 1993; Fiske & Taylor, 1991; Wicker, 1969). A similar problem exists with a cognitive approach to foreign policy. Holsti (1977) in his review of the literature found that the linkage between foreign policy beliefs and behavior has rarely been tested. The few studies that exist give contradictory results. For example, while Harvey Starr (1984) found little congruence between Kissinger’s images and U.S. foreign policy, Steve Walker’s (1977) study of Kissinger found a close relationship between foreign policy beliefs and behavior (for an overview, see Rosati, 1987; Young & Schafer, 1998). Clearly, the belief-behavior relationship is not straightforward in that there is not a continuous, direct one-to-one link between individual beliefs and behavior. Rather, an individual’s beliefs usually determine the parameters for possible action within which behavior occurs (see, e.g., George, 1979a). Therefore, when studying the impact of the beliefs of political leaders on foreign policy behavior, it is important to do the following: examine the role of more general beliefs and entire images, incorporate the element of time, and take into consideration the situation or context to ensure that the beliefs and behavior that are derived and analyzed are compatible. At some point, conditions need to be specified for explaining when and why the belief-behavior relationship is likely to hold (or not hold).

150

Qualitative Analysis

These are open questions that are directly addressed in this study of the Carter administration through two steps. First, the Carter administration’s foreign policy behavior was determined by the development of an events data set covering its four years in office, based on the most important issues and actors involved. Second, this allowed for a direct comparison between the Carter administration’s image and its foreign policy behavior in order to determine the level of congruency between beliefs and behavior. The Events Data Set and Analysis The description of the Carter administration’s foreign policy behavior was based upon the creation and analysis of an events data set—an aggregation of a large number of nonroutine, international behaviors. The emphasis on analyzing events data is not to describe a specific event in detail, but to portray a more comprehensive picture of an actor’s more generalized patterns of behavior over some length of time, allowing for the possibility of higher-level explanatory and predictive power. Events data sets usually have been developed through the use of publicly available sources, especially newspapers. As described by Charles Kegley (1975: 93), “ ‘data making’ is a process whereby the supply of existing diplomatic records and documents are converted into scientifically useful data through systematic examination, classification, and tabulation.” The use of newspaper coverage has been considered a good indicator of general international behavior for a variety of reasons: policy makers rely on newspapers, they are convenient and accessible, and the press is relatively competent in recognizing nonroutine events. Events data analysis, however, is not without its detractors, and controversy in the comparative study of foreign policy has arisen over the relative validity of various specific events data sets. Because different events data sets have made use of different sources, some events data are more valid and more useful than others—much is dependent upon the type of international behavior that one is attempting to explain (see Azar et al., 1972; Howell, 1983). In constructing an events data set as the basis for depicting the Carter administration’s foreign policy behavior throughout its four years, I used Deadline Data on World Affairs as the data source. A number of studies have pointed out that Deadline Data has certain weaknesses in the coverage of events—especially its low yield of total events and its tendency to deemphasize the activities of smaller nations (Burgess & Lawton, 1972). Ironically, since this study focuses on “major” U.S. foreign policy behavior, the very weaknesses for which it is criticized actually increase the validity for using Deadline Data. Not only does Deadline Data emphasize the foreign policy behavior of the larger states, but it principally

The Case of the Carter Administration

151

focuses on the most important international events (Burrows, 1974), thus serving as an appropriate source for in this study (see Table 8.5 for a selective illustration of the actions taken by the Carter administration). The events data set was developed by coding the reported U.S. foreign policy actions according to the issues and actors addressed. The coding scheme was analogous to the technique utilized for determining the Carter administration’s image of the international system. Each American foreign policy action was coded for the issue involved, for the actors involved relative to the issue, and for the type of behavior—cooperative or conflictual—directed toward the actor (intracoder reliability consisted of a .87 agreement score). In constructing the events data set, I relied heavily on previous work on events data, especially the CREON project (see Hermann et al., 1974). Quantitative and qualitative analyses were then performed on the events data set of issues and actors in order to determine the content of the Carter administration’s foreign policy behavior. A quantitative analysis was conducted similar to the quantitative content analysis performed on the major public statements (based upon a description of frequency distributions). Because no monitoring instrument is perfect, “the events reported by the press therefore should not be interpreted as a full and accurate summary of all the foreign policy actions that have occurred everywhere. Rather, these records are best seen as indicators of what happened, as a sample of the behavior that has been undertaken” (Kegley, 1975: 96–97; see McClelland, 1983). Accordingly, the quantitative analysis was complemented by a qualitative analysis of the major foreign policy events that occurred and supplemented by the use of traditional historical and documentary material. The Belief-Behavior Link The development of an events data set allows for a direct comparison between the evolution of the Carter administration’s image of the international system and its foreign policy behavior. In order to make a legitimate comparison of the impact of beliefs on behavior, two different sources of data must be utilized—one for beliefs, one for behavior. Therefore, a second source of information different from what was used for determining beliefs must be utilized for describing behavior (Holsti, 1977). As stated by Greenstein (1969: 65), “The seeming circularity of generating a personality construct from behavior and using the construct to explain behavior does not in fact involve a tautology as long as we do not use the same item of behavior to infer a disposition and then use the inferred disposition to explain the item of behavior.” Accordingly, the verbal behavior (i.e., the public statements) of the three major policy-making officials used for describing the Carter ad-

Table 8.5 Illustration of Carter Administration Foreign Policy Behaviors, 1977

The Case of the Carter Administration

153

ministration’s image of the international system was specifically excluded as a source for the events data set. Once the two separate data sets were developed, a comparison between beliefs and behavior was possible. George (1979a) has outlined two basic techniques for determining the impact of beliefs on behavior: the “congruence” procedure and the “process-tracing” procedure. The congruence procedure examines the relationship or level of consistency between the content of the beliefs and the content of the decision outcome. Process-tracing “seeks to establish the ways in which the actor’s beliefs influenced his receptivity to and assessment of incoming information about the situation, his definition of the situation, his identification and evaluation of options, as well as, finally, his choice of a course of action” (George, 1979a: 113). Processtracing is better able to determine causality, but is oriented around a specific case study and requires a large amount of detailed information about the decision-making process. The congruence procedure focuses primarily on the level of association between beliefs and behavior, requires a minimal amount of data (per case), and allows for greater generalizations over time. In this study, I have attempted to determine the level of congruency between the Carter administration’s image of the international system and its major foreign policy behavior. This was done by conducting a “rank-order correlational analysis” between the data sets on beliefs and behavior that compares the rank-orderings of one category of variables with another category of similar variables. In addition, the relationship between beliefs and behavior was analyzed in a qualitative fashion (for example, by comparing the frequency distributions conducted on the separate data sets). The rank-order correlational analysis of the two sets of data was most revealing for describing patterns at the aggregate level, while the qualitative comparison was most appropriate for indicating more specific relationships and providing a context for better understanding the quantitative findings. Congruency Between the Carter Administration’s Image and Behavior The level of congruency between the Carter administration’s image of the international system and its general foreign policy behavior varied from year to year. Congruency was extremely high during the first and last years. During the second year the relationship was much more moderate, and there was virtually no relationship throughout the third year (see Table 8.6 for a statistical summary). More specifically, four stages also existed concerning the level of congruency between the Carter administration’s image of the international

154

Qualitative Analysis

Table 8.6 Comparison of Carter Administration Rank Orderings of Beliefs and Behavior for Issues and Actors per Year

Note: The rank order correlation coefficient used is Spearman’s Rho, which varies from 1.0 (positive relationship) to ⫺1.0 (inverse relationship).

system and its general foreign policy behavior. During the first year there was a considerable degree of consistency between beliefs and behavior that reflected the high level of shared images that existed among Carter, Vance, and Brzezinski. A variety of important international issues and actors were addressed in accordance with the prevailing optimistic image of global complexity. The use of military force was deemphasized; instead political, economic, and social instruments were relied upon in pursuit of a global community. As individual differences arose in 1978, the administration’s foreign policy behavior displayed less congruency with its beliefs—the relationship was moderate. During 1978, Brzezinski’s image began to diverge from President Carter’s and Secretary Vance’s, and while a wide variety of significant international issues and actors were addressed, the relative importance of the issues and actors for beliefs and behavior became less consistent at the collective level. Political-mililitary concerns intruded upon a more complex and optimistic orientation. By 1979, the consensus in collective image totally collapsed. Contrasting outlooks were pursued by Vance and Brzezinski simultaneously, with Carter reluctant to fully subscribe to either. The resulting foreign policy behavior was highly incoherent and unstable. Given the disagreement that existed within the administration, policy behavior could not flow naturally from the divergent beliefs. Inconsistency between collective beliefs and collective behavior was the consequence, especially over the significance of which issues should be addressed and which issues were actually addressed. During the final year, Carter foreign policy behavior fully reflected its change in image. The Iranian hostage crisis and the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan caused Vance to resign and prompted a new homoge-

The Case of the Carter Administration

155

neous international image. The foreign policy behavior of the administration reflected this changed image: global containment was revived to counter Soviet expansionism, with an immediate focus on Southwest Asia. CONCLUSION Studying the Carter administration’s images and behavior over time has led to three general implications for the political psychological study of images and their impact on behavior with regard to the following: 1. Identifying the content of operational beliefs and images, 2. The explanatory and predictive power of beliefs for behavior, and 3. The contextual and methodological study of beliefs.

Identifying the Content of Operational Beliefs and Images As this study should make clear, a myriad of cognitive approaches can be drawn upon for determining the actual contents of the operational beliefs and images held by policy makers—a crucial component of world politics. For instance, the operational code emphasizes a policy maker’s broad beliefs about politics; image theory focuses on policy maker’s perceptions and beliefs of certain aspects of the international environment; cognitive mapping tends to examine a policy maker’s foreign policy beliefs toward very specific issues (see Rosati, 1995; Young and Schafer, 1998). Whether the emphasis is with broad, general images or more specific images, a cognitive perspective allows for a more sophisticated foundation to examine the contents of the myriad of beliefs, intentions, and preferences held by policy makers and elites to better understand the evolution of foreign policy. In the study of U.S. foreign policy, for example, cognitive approaches have contributed to a better understanding of the origins of the cold war (Larson, 1985), American perceptions of Soviet communism during the “high” cold war era (Holsti, 1967), the American decision to intervene in Vietnam (Khong, 1992), the detente years (Walker, 1977), the rise and decline of a world order approach during the Carter years as discussed in this chapter (Rosati, 1987, 1993), and the return of a cold war approach under Reagan (Shimko, 1991). Although scholars of foreign policy are well aware of the importance of cognitive approaches, international relations theorists and scholars— including neo-realists and neo-idealists—need to integrate a political psychological perspective within their work and acknowledge the existence of cognitive (as opposed to rational) actors (see Rosati, 2000). As

156

Qualitative Analysis

Charles Kupchan (1994: 491) recommends in his analysis of the rise and decline of states, “more research should focus on the content of elite beliefs and the historical trajectory of the ideas and suppositions that shape policy.” The Explanatory and Predictive Power of Beliefs for Behavior Despite the tremendous developments made in cognitive psychology and political psychology over the years, Nisbett and Ross (1980: 11) acknowledge that they have little to say “about precisely how people’s judgments affect their behavior. This is neither an oversight nor a deliberate choice. We simply acknowledge that we share our field’s inability to bridge the gap between cognition and behavior, a gap that in our opinion is the most serious failing of modern cognitive psychology.” A few foreign policy studies have allowed for some initial tentative conclusions. This study found that the Carter administration’s foreign policy behavior was extremely consistent with policy maker images during 1977 and 1980, in comparison to 1978 and 1979 when the consistency between behavior and images declined considerably. The major factor accounting for these differing patterns was the “level of consensus in beliefs or shared images” among multiple policy makers over time: a high level of shared beliefs promoted coherent and stable images contributing to congruent foreign policy behavior; little congruency existed when the consensus in beliefs within the administration broke down with changes first in Brzezinski’s and then Carter’s images (see Table 8.7 for a summary). And as with the Larson (1985) study of the Truman administration, Rosati found that not only did beliefs seem to affect the behavior of policy makers, but foreign policy behavior also impacted the beliefs of policy makers at times, especially for President Carter whose thinking was uncommitted in 1979 and became increasingly hardline during his last year in office. Khong (1992) found similar belief-behavior patterns as Larson and Rosati in his study of Vietnam policy making to demonstrate how analogies affect decisions. As with the study of attitudes in psychology, the belief-behavior relationship in international relations is not straightforward. Although beliefs are often related to behavior, conditions need to be specified for explaining when and why the relationship is likely to hold. The studies above suggest that the more coherent the images of individual policy makers, the more that images are shared among them, and the more stable the situation, the more likely that beliefs will be highly associated with behavior. More fragmented images, greater differences in images among policy makers, and more fluid situations suggest that beliefs are less likely to influence behavior in a consistent fashion. This is all com-

The Case of the Carter Administration

157

Table 8.7 Summary of Major Findings and Relationships

plicated by the fact that “due to lack of central direction and control, considerable slippage can occur between the formulation and the implementation of a decision” (Rosati, 1981: 238) by organizations and bureaucratic personnel who often operate with minds of their own. Therefore, one must identify which policy makers (and organizations) are most responsible for certain facets of foreign policy behavior, be clear as to what type of behavior is likely to flow from what type of beliefs, and determine whether beliefs have changed with time (Rosati, 1987: 30– 34, 174–76). A cognitive approach may have considerable “predictive” power as well. According to Falkowski (1979: 9), “If we find that certain statements of attitudes tend to be highly related to subsequent behavior, are we not increasing our ability to predict even if we are not totally clear how the two variables are causally related?” A number of prerequisites must be satisfied to ensure the existence of covariation to maximize the predictive power of beliefs: beliefs must be relatively stable; in case of competing beliefs, those most central must be determined; and beliefs must be derived relative to the appropriate situation or context. In addition, it is important to realize that the objective environment may reduce the possible behavioral options available to an actor. Ultimately, as described by George (1980: 45), beliefs “serve as a prism or filter that influences the actor’s perception and diagnosis of political situations and that provides norms and standards to guide and channel his choices of action in specific situations. . . . Neither his diagnosis of situations nor his choice of action for dealing with them is rigidly prescribed and determined by these beliefs.” Clearly, this is a topic that needs more exploration and study. The Contextual and Methodological Study of Beliefs If a cognitive approach is to provide a powerful understanding, the scholar must remain sensitive to other causal factors—such as the role

158

Qualitative Analysis

of personality and governmental, domestic, and global dynamics—on policy maker beliefs. This is especially important because during the late 1960s and 1970s political psychologists became increasingly specialized and systematic in their work in an effort to make a scientific contribution to knowledge, where the context and the larger environment were increasingly ignored and unexamined. As Ben-Zvi (1976–1977: 90) has observed, the cognitive literature in foreign policy has tended to “de-emphasize the multitude of interwoven factors.” Fortunately, a sensitivity to the need to integrate other relevant factors to better explain foreign policy within a cognitive perspective has grown over the years (see Fiske & Taylor, 1991; Jervis, 1976; Larson, 1985). Such sensitivity was the case, although not discussed, in this study of the Carter administration (see especially Rosati, 1987). It was based on a theoretical framework that integrated the role of individual personality, external events, and domestic forces to explain continuity and change in the images of Carter administration officials. Such a multilevel foundation is consequential to ensure that cognitive studies of foreign policy do not fall victim to the charge of reductionism and irrelevance that they experienced early on. In fact, from a larger theoretical perspective, one of the promises of a cognitive approach is that policy maker beliefs are naturally positioned between the environment and behavior so as to be treated as a “causal nexus”—that is, as a filter—through which other causal factors pass (Rosati, 1987: 168–70). Gordon Allport (1931: 173), one of the founders of attitudinal research in psychology, long ago recognized that “Background factors never directly cause behavior, they cause attitudes (and other mental sets) and the latter in turn determine behavior.” Such a perspective for foreign policy must be embedded within a decisionmaking context that identifies the relevant policy makers (see, e.g., Rosati, 1981; Snyder et al., 1962; Steinbruner, 1974). The major advantage of treating beliefs as a causal nexus is the synthesis of both environmental and psychological factors for understanding foreign policy. At the same time, since the focus of a cognitive approach is on the “psychological environment” of the policy maker, the scholar must remain sensitive to integrating the direct influence of the “objective environment” to ensure a comprehensive understanding of foreign policy (see Sprout & Sprout, 1965). The discussion of the contextual nature of beliefs and the need for multicausal explanations parallels the evolution of research strategies employed to study beliefs and their impact on foreign policy. Most studies have taken a case study approach, usually relying on some form of content analysis of information to infer the beliefs of policy makers. Earlier studies tended to be historical, qualitative, and often eclectic in examining beliefs, as represented by the early work on images of the

The Case of the Carter Administration

159

enemy, mirror images, and the operational code. With the rise of behavioralism, studies became much more systematic, increasingly quantitative, and narrow in research design and strategy. More recent studies, however, have attempted to integrate the strengths of these two orientations by being both systematic, theoretically and methodologically, while being open to diverse and increasingly eclectic research strategies—some more qualitative, others more quantitative, and some employing both strategies (as in this study of the Carter administration). Such recent advances in methodological diversity and sophistication must continue and are consistent with the general rise of “post-positivism” in the study of international relations (see Lapid, 1989), offering much promise to the future study of cognitive approaches in foreign policy. No one research strategy or method has a monopoly on inferring the beliefs of political leaders and their impact on behavior. Different research strategies must be explored, and utilized, and integrated in order to identify the operational beliefs of political leaders so as to increase their explanatory and predictive power of the research questions posed about foreign policy and world politics. This study of the Carter administration’s image and its impact on its foreign policy behavior represents one such approach.

Chapter 9

John F. Kennedy as Dramatic Leader Robert E. Gilbert

INTRODUCTION In their provocative book The Neurotic Organization, Manfred Kets de Vries and Danny Miller (1984) offer a novel method for studying the impact of neurotic leadership styles on organizations. They identify five types of aberrant personality, derived from the psychoanalytic and psychiatric literature (Fenichel, 1945; Laplanche & Pontalis, 1973; Shapiro, 1965) and suggest that the difference between the neurotic and the normal is largely one of degree rather than intrinsic variation. Human behavior tends to reflect several different styles, with each being triggered by different sets of circumstances. However, one style tends to dominate and is likely to impact the structure and culture of the organization that the executive leads. Extreme displays of any style can produce pathological behavior and organizational leadership that is badly flawed and dysfunctional. The five personality styles identified by Kets de Vries and Miller are compulsive, depressive, dramatic, paranoid, and schizoid (Kets de Vries & Miller, 1984: 24–25). Each has its own dominant characteristics as follows: • Compulsive—concentration on trivial details, perfectionism, meticulousness, dogmatism, obstinacy, lack of spontaneity, insistence that others submit to own way of doing things; • Depressive—sense of helplessness and hopelessness; feelings of guilt and worthlessness; loss of interest and motivation; inability to experience pleasure; feelings of inadequacy;

162

Qualitative Analysis

• Dramatic—incessant drawing of attention to oneself; narcissistic preoccupation; self-dramatization; excessive expression of emotion; a craving for activity and excitement; alternation between idealization and devaluation of others; exploitativeness; incapacity for concentration or sharply focused attention; • Paranoid—suspicion and mistrust of others; hypersensitivity; hyperalertness; readiness to counter perceived threats; overconcern with hidden motives; intense attention span; unemotional; • Schizoid—sense of estrangement; detachment; noninvolvement; lack of excitement or enthusiasm; indifference to praise or criticism; lack of interest in present and future; unemotional.

Each of these leadership styles entails a number of dangers. The compulsive style often results in indecisiveness and immobilization due to fear of making mistakes and an inability to see “the big picture.” The depressive style tends to be characterized by an overly pessimistic outlook, difficulties in concentration and indecisiveness. The dangers of the dramatic style are superficiality, suggestibility, impulsiveness, overreaction to minor events, action based on hunches, and the feeling among others that they are being used or abused. Those resulting from the paranoid style involve a distortion of reality due to a preoccupation with confirmation of suspicion and the loss of spontaneity because of defensiveness. Finally, the schizoid style may produce emotional isolation, frustration of the dependency needs of others, confusion, and aggression (Kets de Vries & Miller, 1984: 25). Kets de Vries and Miller also explain that neurotic behavior is contagious and infects others. As a result, the organization itself becomes sick, and the degree of its sickness is shaped by the stature and status of its sick leader. The sicker and more powerful he/she is, the sicker the organization will be. Thus, many organizational problems have their origins in the intra-psychic difficulties of the organization’s principle leaders. Although Kets de Vries and Miller relate their theory to the corporate world, I apply it here to the political domain, specifically to the presidency of the United States. As head of the executive branch of the national government, the president is clearly an organizational leader. Therefore, the typology described by Kets de Vries and Miller might well be illuminating in assessing leadership styles and their effects in the political, as well as the corporate, spheres. John F. Kennedy has generally been portrayed as a dramatic and charismatic leader. This chapter will focus on Kennedy’s personality and leadership style as president of the United States in order to support this portrayal, using the work of Kets de Vries and Miller as a backdrop. These authors suggest that as managers, dramatic leaders tend to be impulsive, uninhibited, hypersensitive, venturesome, and prone to con-

John F. Kennedy as Dramatic Leader

163

centrate power at the top, for reasons of both personal visibility and independent action. The themes they stress are boldness, risk-taking, and adventure (Kets de Vries & Miller, 1984: 31–32). Since Kennedy’s presidency spanned only 34 months, it offers a fairly concentrated period to examine. Nevertheless, a glimpse of Kennedy’s early years is necessary in establishing the conditions that led to the development of his dominant personality style. Kennedy’s early experiences also shaped the secondary personality style that he exhibited as president of the United States, one that acted as something of a counterweight to his primary style. THE BEGINNINGS John F. Kennedy, the second of nine children of Joseph and Rose Kennedy, was born in Brookline, Massachusetts, on May 29, 1917. His father was a tough, ambitious, and self-made man who became a millionaire by the age of 35 but who remained profoundly angry at the slights accorded him by the elite of Boston society (Burner, 1988: 8). Rose, the daughter of a U.S. congressman and then Boston mayor and a fervent Roman Catholic, was a strict disciplinarian who provided her children with firm guidance and a sense of individuality (Martin, 1983: 33). Even today, visitors to the Kennedy Library and Museum in Boston can hear her voice describing her maternal philosophy: “When I held my newborn baby in my arms, I used to think that what I said and did to him could have an influence not only on him but on all whom he met, not only for a day or a month or a year, but for all eternity—a very challenging and exciting thought for a mother.” Joseph and Rose did all they could to intensify their children’s interest in politics and public affairs. They insisted that their sons and daughters read widely and be prepared to discuss a range of topics every evening at dinner. A family friend explains that dinnertime at the Kennedy household was unusual: “The children had to be in their places five minutes early and the father kept the conversation on a high level. If you didn’t talk about world affairs, you just didn’t talk” (Manchester, 1967: 175). So that they would develop a sense of self-worth, the Kennedy children were taught that they were Kennedys and should be proud of their heritage. So that they would develop a sense of independence and competitiveness, they were pushed to play aggressively and to win. Always they remembered their father’s challenging words: “Don’t play unless you can be captain,” and “Second place is failure” (Burner, 1988: 10). Always they were oriented toward excellence and even perfection. John Kennedy once said that his father “held up standards for us and . . . was very tough when we failed to meet those standards” (Fairlie, 1974: 185).

164

Qualitative Analysis

His mother was just as diligent in her efforts to push her children to superior performance. Even her mentally retarded daughter was encouraged to keep up with the others when they were all children together (Gibson, 1986: 43). Family life was supportive but highly challenging. Although John once claimed that he could not remember any unhappy moments during his childhood (Burns, 1959), this surely was an overstatement. One arena in which the Kennedy children had to compete against each other was for the affection of their parents. Since there were so many children in the household, parental affection was not always bestowed readily or evenly. Although John Kennedy later described Rose as a “very model mother for a big family” (Barber, 1972: 345), on other occasions he was not so sanguine. He once told a friend that “my mother never really held me and hugged me. Never! Never!” He also complained that “my mother was either at some Paris fashion house or else on her knees in some church. She was never there when we really needed her.” Kennedy apparently even resented the living arrangements of the Kennedy household, complaining that living at home was “like living in an institution . . . with all the toothbrushes lined up in a row” (Martin, 1983: 31–32). Besides the dissatisfactions he experienced with his parents, John Kennedy’s relationship with his older brother was not always pleasant or peaceful. Joe, Jr. was taller, stronger, and more outgoing than Jack as well as being combative and very much a bully. From time to time, there were bitter confrontations between the two, sometimes resulting in fistfights, which the younger and slighter brother regularly lost. Jack later admitted that his older brother “had a pugnacious personality. Later on it smoothed out but it was a problem in my boyhood” (Parmet, 1980: 20). Although it is sometimes suggested that Joe, the older son, had been expected to enter political life but that his death in World War II had thrust John into the political arena as his reluctant replacement, this does not seem to be accurate. John Kennedy revealed on the day of his inauguration that he had always seen himself as a future president of the United States (Dickerson, 1976: 60). It is unlikely that his family would have had a similar vision of the future. Throughout his early years, John Kennedy seemed an unlikely prospect for world leadership (Gilbert, 1998: 145–59). He was a “rather frail little boy” who almost succumbed to scarlet fever at the age of three. His mother later remarked that this was “only the beginning”; “almost all his life . . . he had to battle against misfortunes of health” (Kennedy, 1974: 84). Not only did he suffer from the typical childhood illnesses of bronchitis, measles, chicken pox, whooping cough, and german measles but also from diphtheria, frequent colds and flu, hives, an irritable colon, a

John F. Kennedy as Dramatic Leader

165

weak stomach that required a bland diet, and allergies and asthma that affected him throughout his life, even necessitating that the White House elevators be washed down so that, as president, he would avoid a negative reaction. When John was 14, he underwent an operation to remove his appendix and had his tonsils and adenoids removed. When he was 16, he suffered from a serious case of jaundice. In the mid-1930s he came down with severe pneumonia. Approximately one year later, he had to end his studies at the London School of Economics after requiring hospitalization because his jaundice had returned. He transferred to Princeton but again fell ill and had to withdraw. Only then did he enroll at Harvard, close to his family’s home. As a Harvard student, he injured his right knee and ruptured a spinal disk playing football. Although not the beginning of Kennedy’s long experience with serious, painful, and almost fatal back ailments, this injury did worsen the problem. Dr. Janet Travell, who began treating Kennedy for his back problems in May 1955 and became Physician to the President in 1961, has since related that Kennedy suffered from a skeletal malformation from birth that produced intense back and spinal discomfort (Travell, 1968: 3). While a senator, he underwent lumbar fusion surgery from which he almost died and which actually made his back condition more painful. The problem was compounded still further by the frequent muscle spasms he experienced, caused at least in part by thyroid insufficiency (Travell, 1966: 10). Even more serious, during at least the last 16 years of his life, John F. Kennedy suffered from a debilitating, potentially life-threatening disease. Addison’s Disease involves a dangerous failure of the adrenal glands and had he contracted it even a few years earlier, he almost certainly would have died. Although the disease was manageable, it made Kennedy wholly dependent on the therapy that Addisonians require for survival. Initially, he took cortisone by mouth, then took it through injection. There are even reports that the Kennedy family kept a supply of medications in safety deposit boxes around the country so that Jack would have ready access to them wherever he traveled. One of his closest aides recounts that Kennedy “used (and carried with him around the country) more pills, potions, poultices and other paraphernalia than would be found in a small dispensary” (Sorensen, 1965: 41). A PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE John F. Kennedy’s psychological makeup was undoubtedly affected by his physical disabilities and frequent illnesses (Gilbert, 1998: 170–74). Not only did he refuse to surrender to his sicknesses, but he actually denied that he was sick. His mother tells us that:

166

Qualitative Analysis

Even when he was laid out flat in bed from some new accident or disease, with his face thin and his freckles standing out against the pallor of his skin, he could always smile or grin about his own bad luck, as if he had been victimized once again by some absurd joke that he should have been on guard against. He went along for many years thinking to himself—or at least trying to make others think—that he was a strong, robust, quite healthy person who just happened to be sick a good deal of the time. (Kennedy, 1974: 202)

This denial, even though delusional (Blair & Blair, 1976: 582), is not surprising in the child of a close-knit and active family in which he was pushed to be strong and competitive. All Kennedy children had been taught from birth to be vigorous, self-reliant, and assertive and to believe that “Kennedys don’t cry” and should “be as good as the spirit is”(Wills, 1982: 32). The second son of Joseph and Rose did all he could do to live up to his parents’ high standards. When, in his boyhood, John had written his father that he had gotten dizzy and weak during Mass, he was quick to point out that “Joe fainted twice in church so I guess I will live” (Personal Papers of John F. Kennedy, n.d.). The message to his father was a poignant one: if hale and hardy Joe, Jr. fainted twice in church, then Jack’s dizziness during Mass was not unacceptable for a Kennedy. For him to admit or accept the fact that he was unusual in his sicknesses, or for him to give in to his pain, would violate the norms of Kennedy family life and might reduce his status within the structure of the family. Often, those who place great value on bodily strength and integrity react to an incurred disability by denying its existence (Safilios-Rothchild, 1970: 97). If a child believes that he is an “unworthy” member of the family or that he does not “belong,” he becomes anxious and insecure and may undergo a process of self-alienation. Self-alienation produces a need for a self-identity that will provide feelings “of power and significance.” In order to develop such a self-identity, the child creates first an idealized image of himself—what he would most like to be. An idealized image “always entails a general self-glorification and thereby gives the individual the much needed feelings of significance and of superiority over others” (Horney, 1950: 22). A narcissistic personality disorder may also result from the low selfesteem and depression brought about by feelings of rejection. Heinz Kohut (1977: 5) writes that persons suffering from this disorder had, as children, “felt emotionally unresponded to and had tried to overcome their loneliness through erotic and grandiose fantasies.” Later, in adulthood, “the dramatic, intensely exhibitionistic aspects of the personality do not become securely alloyed with mature productivity; and the eroticized, excitedly pursued activities of adult life continue to be but one step removed from the underlying depression” (Kohut, 1977: 5–6). Kennedy sought to be accepted as a full member of his family by

John F. Kennedy as Dramatic Leader

167

appearing to be as strong, healthy, and vigorous as his brothers and sisters. Therefore, he rejected the notion that he was sickly and saw himself as wholly well. While growing up, Kennedy idealized and fantasized himself into the powerful figure he wanted to be. His political ambitions may well have represented a compulsive search for glory by the sickliest of the Kennedy sons. His aim, then, was to “lift himself above others” (Horney, 1950: 22) and demonstrate his worth and competitiveness on the most visible of all national and even international stages. As a member of Congress and later as president, Kennedy went to great lengths to conceal his various illnesses, afraid that the public might think him unsuited for electoral politics. Dr. Travell described the great secrecy that surrounded his hospitalizations while he was in the Senate: “[W]hen in New York Hospital seven or eight times for two or three days or nights, the last being in October, 1957, that fact was concealed— an assumed name would be put on his door, his chart was taken off the wallboard and locked in a drawer.” Travell also related that when, on one occasion, he was being treated for an abscess, Kennedy told her, “You know, that’s a very ugly word. I don’t want to have an abscess.” So she told the press that he had a “virus infection” instead (Travell, 1966: 9, 17). Of some interest is the fact that not only did Kennedy conceal his illnesses from the public, he also tried to deny and/or conceal them from the people closest to him, just as he had done as a child. He was reluctant to have Secret Service agents see his back brace and even instructed his doctors not to discuss his medical problem with his wife because he did not “want her to think she married an old man or a cripple.” Evelyn Lincoln, his longtime personal secretary, has written that “it was hard for him to use his crutches even in front of me. He used them mostly when he was alone” (Martin: 1983: 528, 330). His press secretary, Pierre Salinger, revealed that when friends or aides sensed that he was in considerable pain and tried to offer sympathy, Kennedy would almost invariably “smile them off with assurances that everything was well” (Salinger, 1966: 41). Kennedy also maintained to aides that he did not have Addison’s Disease and lectured one of them in 1959 that “no one who has the real Addison’s Disease should run for the Presidency, but I do not have it” (Schlesinger, 1965: 19). Remarkably, Dr. Travell tried on one occasion to discuss his Addison’s Disease with him, but Kennedy snapped, “But I don’t have it, Doctor” (Travell, 1968: 330). In 1960, when an associate expressed displeasure over the choice of Lyndon Johnson as his vice presidential running mate, Kennedy brought him up short by saying, “Get one thing clear. . . . I’m forty-three years old, and I’m the healthiest candidate for President in the country and I’m not going to die in office” (O’Donnell & Powers, 1976: 7). Kennedy, then, was quite different from

168

Qualitative Analysis

other political figures who suffered severe ailments and who tried to conceal/deny them. In Kennedy’s case, the concealment/denial was aimed not only at the public but at everyone, including his own family, his own staff members, and even his own doctor. This behavior pattern may well have been rooted in the self-realization and self-idealization discussed earlier. With regard these processes, Karen Horney writes that an inevitable state of self-realization is a “search for glory” and that striving for power and prestige is a way “frequently used in our culture for obtaining reassurance against anxiety.” The constituent parts involved in a search for glory include a need for perfection, a compulsive ambition for external success, and a drive toward “a vindicative triumph,” although the latter is frequently concealed (Horney, 1937: 102). John Kennedy’s intense ambition reflected his upbringing. Once elected to his first office, he moved relentlessly toward the very top of the political structure. Each rung of the ladder was climbed at an early age, a fact possibly serving as still another visible demonstration of external success and physical endurance. A congressman at 29 and a senator at 35, Kennedy became, at 43, the youngest elected president of the United States in history. Although he was publicly gracious in victory in 1960, there are reports that he did not like his opponent personally, did not respect him, and believed that that he had “no class.” Triumph over Nixon, therefore, represented personal, rather than simply political, success. THE 1960 CAMPAIGN AND INAUGURAL ADDRESS As he fought for the presidency, John Kennedy projected an image of power and dynamism. He urged vigor and discipline on the American people and spoke to them often in terms of strength, courage, and endurance. He pledged frequently to get the country moving again. In many of his campaign addresses, he offered images of an activist, centerstage presidency that would be committed to change. He told the National Press Club, for example, that the presidency must be “the vital center of action in our whole scheme of government. . . . The President must place himself in the very thick of the fight” (Schlesinger, 1965: 120). In a campaign appearance in October 1960, Kennedy proclaimed that “it is the President of the United States who can set the goals for the country.” In subsequent speeches, he promised vigorous presidential leadership in protecting the constitution and indicated that as president, he would be a “moral and persuasive force in the country” (Senate Committee on Commerce, 1961: 453, 576). Dynamic—and speedy—leadership was clearly promised to the electorate. For example, as he campaigned across the country before enthu-

John F. Kennedy as Dramatic Leader

169

siastic crowds, Kennedy promised again and again to end racial discrimination in housing “by a stroke of the pen” (Marshall, 1964: 55). He promised, too, to be a president similar to other great presidents of his party who had gone before. As an example, in an address on September 15, he pledged that “we will carry on in this country the same policies which have distinguished for so many years other great Democratic Administrations” (Senate Committee on Commerce, 1961: 245). Although elected by the narrowest of margins, Kennedy did not back down from his dramatic, even grandious, rhetoric. On January 20, 1961, his inaugural address thrilled the nation. He emphasized his youth (“the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans—born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace”) and promised that “we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and success of liberty.” To the world, he warned “let all our neighbors know that we shall join with them to oppose aggression or subversion anywhere in the Americas and let every other power know that this hemisphere intends to remain the master of its own house.” In this moving speech, generally considered one of the finest inaugural addresses in American history, Kennedy reinforced his image as a charismatic leader who urged his countrymen to “ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country” and who summoned his people to both watch and follow him as he launched his New Frontier. Again and again, he put himself in the forefront of a great struggle. “In the long history of the world,” he proclaimed, “only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shrink from this responsibility. I welcome it” (Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States, 1962: 1–3). THE PRESIDENCY Kennedy followed up his stirring address by bombarding Congress with a long list of specific proposals. In 1961, he made 355 identifiable requests to Congress; in 1962, 298; in the 10 months of 1963 during which he served, 401 (Congress and the Nation, 1969: 625). In the Kennedy years, the number of proposals submitted to Congress was significantly greater than had been the case during the immediately preceding Eisenhower years. Also, a number of his legislative proposals, as well as initiatives instituted by Executive Order, were bold and adventuresome. The Peace Corps, established by Executive Order early in Kennedy’s administration, challenged young Americans to serve their country by working abroad in less developed countries and made a public service career one of distinction. His Executive Order setting up the President’s Commission on Equal Employment Opportunity was instrumental in

170

Qualitative Analysis

significantly strengthening nondiscriminatory employment policies in the federal government and with government contractors. His tax cut program, passed by Congress in 1962, is still seen as a model for stimulating the economy. His Medicare proposal, finally enacted in 1965, after his death, revolutionized medical care in the United States. In 1963, Kennedy launched a major legislative and public education campaign designed to end racial discrimination on a broad basis. His June, 1963 televised address to the nation on this subject was a dramatic and moving one: We preach freedom around the world . . . and we cherish our freedom here at home but are we to say to the world and, more importantly, to each other that this is a land of the free except for the Negroes, that we have no second class citizens except the Negroes, that we have no class or caste system, no ghettoes, no master race, except with respect to the Negroes? Next week I shall ask the Congress of the United States to act, to make a commitment it has not fully made in this century to the proposition that race has no place in American life or law. (Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States, 1964: 469)

Not surprisingly, Kennedy moved at the very beginning of his administration to conduct live, televised press conferences as a way of reaching and mobilizing the public. These also had the effect of putting the president squarely on center-stage, exactly where he thought the presidency—particularly his presidency—ought to be. The first of these, held one evening shortly after his inauguration, drew a massive audience of 65 million (Kernell, 1993: 72). Even daytime conferences were watched by some 20 million. According to one of Kennedy’s closest aides, the primary purpose of these televised meetings with the press was “to inform and impress the public more than the press” (Sorensen, 1965: 322). In other words, the press became props used by the president in order to establish a powerful bond with the people. This objective was clearly achieved. The common reaction to the 63 conferences conducted during the almost three years of his presidency was that Kennedy turned in almost consistently dazzling performances. He was articulate, witty, and well-prepared, captivating much of the nation. Those presidents who succeeded him were simply not his equal in this particular forum of presidential communication, one that seems perfect for a well-informed president who craves attention and being at the center of events. Kennedy’s leadership of foreign policy was also personalized and dramatic. After the Berlin Wall was constructed, the president visited Berlin and told a tumultuous crowd that “Freedom is indivisible, and when one man is enslaved, all are not free.” He concluded this memorable

John F. Kennedy as Dramatic Leader

171

address by electrifying his audience with his “Ich bin ein Berliner” peroration (Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States, 1963: 525). When the Soviet Union installed missile bases on the island of Cuba, the confrontation that ensued was very much a personal one between Kennedy and Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev. Kennedy masterminded the American strategy throughout the crisis and emerged triumphant. He followed up this victory by establishing a “Hot Line,” not between the office of the Secretary of State and the Soviet Foreign Ministry but between his desk and Khrushchev’s, and then signed an agreement with the Soviets under which nuclear weapons and other weapons of mass destruction would be banned from space (Garthoff, 1989: 134). Kennedy departed from the institutionalized presidency model of the Eisenhower years. He had scant interest in formal organizations and saw himself as being at the center of a wheel rather than as standing at the top of a pyramid (Hess, 1988: 74). Therefore, he wanted his key aides to have easy access to him and declined to appoint a powerful chief of staff who could prevent these aides from reaching him (Hart, 1987: 118). The caliber of his appointments to the White House staff was excellent, and it was almost inevitable that the policy function was drawn away from the cabinet and lodged in the White House itself, where the president’s influence would be maximized. In this administration, crisis management was stressed (Whicker & Moore, 1988: 153). Once again, Kennedy’s presidency emerges as a personal one, dominated by a leader who sought power in order to achieve his objectives for the nation. KENNEDY, KETS DE VRIES, AND MILLER At first glance, Kennedy seems to conform rather closely to the dramatic leadership style as described by Kets de Vries and Miller. He showed a stunning ability to draw attention to himself, enjoyed being on center-stage, was a superb rhetorician, and inspired crowds that were often frenzied in their reactions to him. One southern Senator described him as having the “best qualities of Elvis Presley and Franklin D. Roosevelt (White, 1961: 372). He craved action, urging on his countrymen the need for vigor and perseverance. His use of television to project himself into the nation’s homes, his personalized method of decision making, and his tendency to concentrate power at the top all suggest the leadership style associated with dramatic personalities. However, a number of the characteristics of the dramatic leadership style as suggested by Kets de Vries and Miller do not well describe John F. Kennedy. Rather than being superficial, for example, Kennedy read widely and absorbed himself in the activities of his administration. He perused many news magazines from the United States and abroad and scanned more than a dozen newspapers each day. His wife reported that

172

Qualitative Analysis

he read so much that “his eyes were giving out” (Gallagher, 1969: 292). One reason for the success of his televised press conferences was that he was so knowledgeable in the areas of both foreign and domestic policy. General Lucius Clay later commented that “I never met with him on any subject that he hadn’t done his homework before the meeting. He was always well-informed on the subject he was meeting you about. How he found time to do it, I don’t know—but he did” (Clay, 1964: 15). In reviewing Kennedy’s foreign policy accomplishments as president, one of his advisors writes, “He had a large perspective, a sense of the ebb and flow of events, that permitted him to look beyond the immediate crisis. Both of these qualities helped him in dealing with the untidiness, the inconsistencies and internal contradictions of foreign affairs” (Hilsman, 1967: 581). Rather than being suggestible, a trait that Kets de Vries and Miller attribute to dramatic leaders, Kennedy took great care, particularly on the most important issues confronting him as president, to avoid undue influence being exerted by others over his decision-making processes. He had learned this lesson early in his administration when in April 1961, at the urging of his military advisors, he approved the Bay of Pigs invasion planned by Cuban dissidents against Fidel Castro. Without the aircover that he refused to provide, the plan was doomed to failure. The dissidents were defeated; the country embarrassed; the president humiliated. Although some blame this debacle on Kennedy’s disdain for procedures and on his tendency to be impulsive and headstrong, others attribute it to the fact that Kennedy was still a very new and inexperienced president in April 1961, and Dwight D. Eisenhower, his predecessor and a military “hero” in his own right, had approved the entire adventure just a few months earlier. In any event, the Bay of Pigs fiasco served as an important learning experience for Kennedy. It made him very wary of the military advisors, who he felt had served him badly. In fact, in direct response to his failure at the Bay of Pigs, Kennedy changed the command structure of the armed services and increased the national security staff so that such mistakes would not occur in the future (Hart, 1987: 45). During the Cuban missile crisis, 18 months later, President Kennedy put into practice what he had earlier learned. He declined to meet regularly with members of his advisory Executive Committee (Ex Com) because he wanted to protect the independence of his own thought processes. Indeed, he pursued his own course in instituting a naval blockade around Cuba and rejected advice given him by both military and congressional leaders for an air strike or invasion because he saw that advice as likely to lead to war. He also supervised with great care the method by which naval officers carried out his interdiction policy and insisted that they follow his specific orders closely, despite their

John F. Kennedy as Dramatic Leader

173

preference to implement the blockade as they saw fit. One astute analyst writes that: [I]n a highly sensitive domestic political context where his opponents demanded some action against Soviet interests in Cuba, Kennedy was following a policy of reason and responsibility. He demanded that Khrushchev be given time, again and again delaying the Ex Com’s preference for quick, forceful U.S. action. (Allison, 1971: 193)

Kennedy remained master of events from the beginning of this crisis until its end. He studied every phase of American preparation and very carefully developed a gradual, step-by-step policy that would give the Soviets time to ponder the consequences of their response to each move by the United States (Hilsman, 1996: 115). He recognized that the Soviet leader was under great pressure at home and did all he could to avoid humiliating him (Abel, 1966: 215). In fact, after Khrushchev capitulated and agreed to remove the bases from Cuba, Kennedy cautioned his aides against gloating and instead congratulated Khrushchev on his statesmanship. Many view Kennedy’s behavior in this episode as a “model in any textbook of diplomacy” (Pachter, 1964: 87). Far from being excessively suggestible and impulsive, Kennedy was independent and cautious. He once described himself as an “idealist without illusions” (Dickerson, 1976: 238). At one point, he told the nation that “I hope our restraint or sense of responsibility will not ever come to an end.” Perhaps his sense of caution is best shown in the speech he was scheduled to deliver in Dallas on the day of his assassination. The concluding words are particularly notable: We ask . . . that we may be worthy of our power and responsibility, that we may exercise our strength with wisdom and restraint, and that we may achieve in our time and for all time the ancient vision of “peace on earth, good will toward men.” That must always be our goal, and the righteousness of our cause must always underlie our strength. For as was written long ago . . . “Except the Lord keep the City, the watchman waketh but in vain.” (Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States, 1964: 329, 894)

Kennedy’s innate sense of caution and restraint were seen in controversial areas of domestic policy as well. Although, for example, he promised in the fall of 1960 to end racial discrimination in housing “with the stroke of a pen,” he did not wield that pen until late November 1962, two years later. The delay was occasioned by several key factors. Not only did he not want precipitous action to jeopardize congressional approval of a cabinet-level Department of Housing and Urban Affairs but he also did not want to embarrass southern Democrats who were on the ballot that November. Therefore, he delayed issuing the Housing Order

174

Qualitative Analysis

as long as he could and finally did so only after the votes were counted in the mid-term elections. Also, he disappointed civil rights leaders by refusing during the remainder of his presidency to broaden the somewhat narrow scope of the Housing Order and by insisting that “the order we now have is the one we plan to stand on” (Gilbert, 1982: 389). He disappointed them as well by resolutely refusing to send any new legislative proposals to Congress until the time was ripe. He told a press conference early in his term that he would recommend legislation only when “there is a necessity for Congressional action and a chance of getting that Congressional action” (Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States, 1962: 157). Not until June 1963 did he send meaningful civil rights legislation to Congress, but when he did, it was the most significant in American history. In the fight to secure passage of this landmark legislation, Kennedy again eschewed excessively confrontational tactics and showed caution and moderation in dealing with both Congress and civil rights groups. When civil rights leaders announced plans for a massive “March on Washington” in the summer of 1963, Kennedy tried to persuade them to cancel such plans. He told them that such a march could alienate members of Congress and damage chances for passage. When plans for the march went forward, Kennedy worked hard to assure that it would be multiracial and peaceful. Although he agreed to meet with leaders of the march at the White House, he refused to address the huge throng, fearing that he would suffer political damage in the event of violence or disorder (Gilbert, 1982: 396). Once again, these actions do not suggest an impulsive or unreflective leader. Two other attributes associated with the dramatic personality type of Kets de Vries and Miller seem far removed from Kennedy. Rather than being exploitative of others, he treated subordinates with great respect and won their absolute loyalty and even their love. Although he enjoyed being on center stage, Kennedy did not begrudge his aides their moment in the sun. He went out of his way to be accessible to them. He respected them and saw them as loyal and faithful to his goals. The fact that the relationship between Kennedy and his staff members has occasionally been described as that existing between “a band of brothers” tells much. One key aide describes the Kennedy White House as a place “where there were no clear or continuing splits along political or philosophical grounds” and as a place of “good feelings and good fellowship” (Sorensen, 1965: 322). Finally, rather than being hypersensitive, Kennedy had a very good sense of humor and could not only laugh at himself but also accept blame for his errors and failures. In his first State of the Union Address, he had told Congress that “I shall neither shift the burden of Executive

John F. Kennedy as Dramatic Leader

175

decisions to the Congress, nor avoid responsibility for the outcome of those decisions” (Israel, 1967: 3122). He was true to his word. Although deeply affected by his mistakes in the Bay of Pigs fiasco, the low point of his administration, he readily accepted the blame, saying that he was president and the buck stopped with him. At times, he was almost stoical rather than bitter in confronting his adversities, on one occasion telling the country that “there is always inequity in life . . . Some men are killed in war, and some men are wounded, and some men never leave the country. Life is unfair” (Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States, 1962: 259). Rather than complaining about his problems and infirmities, Kennedy was urging others to join him in accepting what life throws in one’s path, whether good or bad. KENNEDY’S SECONDARY STYLE As we have seen, John F. Kennedy clearly demonstrated several—but not all—characteristics described by Kets de Vries and Miller as reflecting the dramatic personality type. Moreover, the manifestations of the dramatic personality style as exhibited by President Kennedy were not extreme. Indeed, as President of the United States, Kennedy exhibited secondary personality characteristics that operated as countervailing influences to his primary leadership style. His penchant for detail, for doing his “homework” in all situations, his refusal to stay away from the Oval Office even when he was ill or in pain, his interest in controlling the situations that confronted him, and his commitment to excellence and perfection suggest something of the “compulsive” leadership style, also presented by Kets de Vries and Miller as a distinctive type. As explained earlier, the compulsive style is marked by such traits as perfectionism, preoccupation with details, and meticulousness. The interaction of these two leadership styles, primary and secondary, appears to have produced salutary effects in the instance of John F. Kennedy since extreme manifestations of both styles were restrained. Just as he was not impulsive or superficial, so too he was not dogmatic or obstinate. Just as he was not suggestible or exploitative, so too he was not indecisive and unable to see “the big picture.” Surveys ranking presidents have generally been kind to Kennedy. As an example, a recent survey, based on the judgments of more than 700 historians and political scientists, ranked him 15 out of the 40 presidents evaluated (Ridings & McIver, 1995: 376–77). Kennedy’s ranking in this survey is the highest for any president who failed to serve out at least one full term in the White House. In Kennedy’s case, then, the effects of his dominant leadership style were mitigated by the effects of his secondary leadership style, making him, in the final analysis, an effective organizational leader.

176

Qualitative Analysis

SOME FINAL THOUGHTS Applying the work of Kets de Vries and Miller to the chief executive of the United States, rather than to the chief executive of a business corporation, is, without doubt, an enjoyable and stimulating exercise. To a degree, it may even be a useful one. However, there are limitations in trying to make such applications. First, the organization led by a president of the United States is far broader and more complex than one led by a corporate head, no matter how large the corporation. It is important to note that even on the corporate level, the organization is not led by one person alone. This is particularly true in the case of the executive branch of the national government which employs some 5 million people, has a budget many times larger than that of even the largest corporation, and operates in every state in the nation and in almost every country in the world. A vast majority of members of the president’s “organization” will never come into even remote contact with their “leader,” whether their base of operations is Washington D.C. or elsewhere. Cabinet members, sub-cabinet members, executive agency heads, sub-heads, White House staff members, ambassadors, and consular officials will all have their own leadership styles and even, to a degree, their own agendas, and these will inescapably dilute the impact exerted in this amorphous environment by the president. Also, there are significant institutional bodies (e.g. the National Security Council, the Council of Economic Advisers, the Office of Management and Budget, the Joint Chiefs of Staff—to say nothing of the independent regulatory commissions and even the other two branches of the national government) that will exert important influence on the organization as well. At the same time, large numbers of executive branch employees fall under civil service regulations which may well render them impervious to presidential direction and/or control. Kets de Vries and Miller (1984: 22) warn that “organizations in which power is broadly dispersed may have their orientations determined by too large and diverse an array of personalities for our framework to apply.” This caveat is particularly relevant here. One might be tempted to argue, however, that the trend over the past 50 years toward greater White House involvement in almost all aspects of executive branch activity inevitably strengthens the influence of the president over the executive branch. To a degree, it does do so. But although the president may set a general tone here, the possibility of his/her moving or shaping the executive branch in fundamental ways is somewhat remote. In this instance, the organization is simply too large and diffuse and the president’s time in office too brief. Also, an organization as broad and complex as the executive branch, particularly in a system of government characterized by separation of .

John F. Kennedy as Dramatic Leader

177

powers and checks and balances, may well develop extraordinary coping mechanisms to shield itself against the more negative influences of certain pernicious leadership styles. This seems especially likely in the instance of the paranoid and schizoid styles, which might more appropriately be seen as psychotic rather than neurotic in nature. Here the organization may well defend itself by instituting ad hoc internal checks on its psychotic leader. Within the executive branch, the many formal internal checks would then be buttressed by checks of a more informal kind, as, for example, when agreements among executive branch officials were reached concerning control of the nation’s nuclear weapons during Richard Nixon’s final days in office. Whether the president is neurotic, psychotic, or neither, his/her leadership style will likely have some effect on the organization being led, especially in its upper echelons. But because of the sheer size and complexity of the executive branch, as well as the standard operating procedures observed by its many component parts, that effect will be much more limited than it is likely to be in a smaller, less complex organization. Therefore, it would be difficult to argue that a sick (e.g., neurotic or psychotic) president will produce a sick (e.g., dysfunctional) organization. Too many mitigating factors are likely to prevent the occurrence of this kind of insidious “contagion.”

Chapter 10

Cloak and Swagger: Personality and Leadership in the Vice Presidency of Spiro T. Agnew Scott W. Webster

Yes, I am a student of history, don’t you remember? And what we students of history always learn is that the human being is a very complicated contraption and that they are not good or bad but are good and bad and the good comes out of bad and the bad out of good, and the devil take the hindmost. —Robert Penn Warren, All the King’s Men (1946)

INTRODUCTION The seasons of a man’s life differ from nature’s in one important respect: their sheer unpredictability. Fall, winter, summer, and spring come and go with regularity in the physical world. Not so in the human one. Man never quite knows when his winter may arrive, nor how long it will linger. Spiro Theodore Agnew, who served as vice president of the United States from 1969 to 1973, certainly could not foresee the brutal cold spell that froze his meteoric rise—appearing as it did so rapidly in the midst of his spring, when his bud was still blossoming. Agnew’s dramatic resignation from the office to which he had twice been elected capped a five-year period during which the decidedly unprivileged son of Greek immigrants stood at the fulcrum of American politics. By the end of his first year in office most Americans and even many non-Americans knew Ted Agnew, though far fewer than that ever actually met him. And they either loved or loathed him. He wasn’t the sort of politician about whom one had no opinion. The vice presidency was Agnew’s own Iliad: A maelstrom of activity

180

Qualitative Analysis

that ossified his political identity as a hard-hitting, bare-knuckles, shootfrom-the-hip straight-talker. It was this very quality that Richard Nixon found appealing enough to invite Agnew to join the 1968 Republican presidential ticket. And it was this quality that further propelled Agnew to prominence—some might say notoriety—from his White House perch. Whereas most American vice presidents have been consigned to history’s dustbin, Spiro Agnew’s legacy is not so easily swept away. First, he is the only vice president in U.S. history to resign his post because of legal considerations (John C. Calhoun also resigned, but the occasion was his election to the U.S. Senate). Second, Agnew’s departure centered around a bribery scandal that dogged his reputation for the rest of his life. Third, Agnew served in the Nixon White House—a circumstance alone, given the complexity of the Nixon years, that necessarily casts a spotlight on the vice president. And fourth, Agnew distinguished himself as vice president by verbally criticizing, in colorful and powerful and still-notable language, segments of the American population ranging from journalists to college students to blacks to liberals to intellectuals. In fact, Agnew’s silver tongue easily rendered him the most outspoken American politician since Senator Joseph McCarthy and his anticommunist crusade of the 1950s. Agnew’s attacks made him the most divisive American vice president ever. Spiro Agnew exerted an indelible influence on the institution of the American vice presidency. No occupant of the office before or since has eclipsed his ability—whether wellorchestrated or through an ill-considered quip—to galvanize public opinion. In this he has compelled both presidents and vice presidents in the last 25 years to consider whether or when, and at what cost, to emulate the Agnew precedent. More than he himself sometimes realized, Agnew wielded considerable power in domestic politics and in the Nixon White House as the mouthpiece and mobilizer of American conservative thought. And his influence lingered long after he had left Washington. “Spiro Agnew,” claimed former press secretary Victor Gold, “was the John the Baptist for the Reagan Revolution” (Gold, 1996: 36). Yet, surprisingly, despite the rapt attention Richard Nixon has garnered in recent years—or, perhaps, precisely because of the focus on Nixon—historians, political scientists, psychobiographers, leadership scholars, and others have paid relatively scant notice to Agnew. Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard wrote that “Life is lived forward, but understood backwards,” but too few have looked back at Ted Agnew. How was it that he came, in the span of 24 months, from relative obscurity to being a heartbeat away from the American presidency? What leadership did Agnew exercise from his post? How is his relation-

The Vice Presidency of Spiro T. Agnew

181

ship with Richard Nixon best evaluated? How deeply felt were the conservative principles that Agnew espoused? These questions are best answered by examining Agnew’s political personality and, ultimately, by comparing him to the politician to whom he is inextricably linked, Richard Nixon. “A BOLT FROM THE BLUE” Spiro Agnew’s rise to prominence was quick, his beginnings humble, and his preparation paltry. The trajectory reminded some critics of journalist H. L. Mencken’s caustic jibe about Calvin Coolidge: “No man ever came to market with less seductive goods, and no man ever got a better price for what he had to offer” (Wills, 1970: 277). Agnew had many such spears hurled in his direction, and in the years since his vice presidency the one-liners have unfairly come to pass for considered judgment. As with many controversial public figures, he held the lighting rod long enough to be jolted from both ends. But as historian Charles A. Beard (1935: 7) cautioned, “At all events, the presidents, great and small, best and worst, are a part of American history. They have helped to make that history. They have expressed its qualities of character.” So too with vice presidents. And particularly with Agnew. Spiro Agnew was born on November 9, 1918 in Baltimore, Maryland. His father, Theodore S. Anagnostopoulous, a vegetable seller, had emigrated from Greece in 1897 and shortened the family name to Agnew. His mother, Margaret Akers Agnew, was a native Virginian. Agnew was his father’s only child, and the third of three for his mother (Goertzel et al., 1978: 85–122; Witcover, 1972). The young Agnew studied chemistry at Johns Hopkins University, where he was at best an average student. After earning a Bronze Star for service in World War II Europe, he eventually graduated with a law degree from the University of Baltimore. He foundered in middling jobs as an insurance adjuster and supermarket personnel manager before his political career hit its stride. Appointed to the Baltimore County, Maryland, Board of Zoning Appeals in 1957, Agnew succeeded well enough to win election in 1962 as Baltimore county executive—the first Republican in nearly 100 years to head the government of the largely white and middle-class horseshoeshaped county that encircled Maryland’s largest city. As county executive, he acquired a reputation as a Republican liberal, supporting civil rights causes and backing one of the nation’s first county-level public accommodations laws—no small feat in such a conservative political district. In 1966, Agnew was elected governor of Maryland, the first American of Greek descent to serve as chief executive of any state. The circum-

182

Qualitative Analysis

stances that produced his victory were unique: a rabid racist had garnered the Democratic nomination, compelling many to forgo party fealty and support the Republican Agnew. So Agnew-the-gubernatorialcandidate, like Agnew-the-county-executive, could again claim the “liberal” banner. And for a time, his actions proved consistent with this moniker. On Agnew’s watch, Maryland became the first state south of the Mason-Dixon line to enact a statewide open housing law. During his tenure, Agnew also increased aid to anti-poverty programs, appealed the prohibition on interracial marriages, signed a liberalized abortion law, and enforced strict water pollution controls (Baker, 1998). Agnew’s ascension to the Maryland governorship was an important moment in the state’s political history, for it demonstrated that suburban government administrators could compete statewide. The governor’s mansion was no longer the sole province of inner-city machine pols. Agnew personified the post–World War II American suburbanite: family-oriented, consumer-minded, possessive of disposable income, mobile, patriotic, and optimistic (Chester et al., 1969: 493). His political campaigns for various posts nursed the Mr. Clean image. And his electoral success marked a sea change in American politics: the ushering out of politics governed by economic interests and the ushering in of “new” politics characterized by concerns over status (Callcott, 1985: 222; Lippman, 1972). In 1968, Agnew was elected vice president, becoming the first man since Vermont’s Calvin Coolidge to move directly to the vice presidency from a statehouse. In just two years, he had gone from county executive to American vice president. And until his forced resignation from office in 1973 over allegedly accepting bribes, he was the Republican heir apparent to the presidency. In 1969, he ranked third in a Gallup poll of most admired Americans behind only Richard Nixon and Billy Graham (Greene, 1997: 129). No vice president had ever placed so highly (Light, 1984: 37). Yet in the summer of 1968 Agnew was still low-hanging fruit to many political observers, and, expectedly, they picked at him. The Washington Post famously dubbed Nixon’s selection of Agnew as his running mate as “the most eccentric political appointment since the Roman Emperor Caligula named his horse a consul” (Callcott, 1985: 219). Agnew himself appeared to recognize the improbability of what had transpired, admitting at one point that the turn of events struck him like “a bolt from the blue” (Barone, 1996). His wife, Judy, was equally surprised. “It was a big shock to me,” she recalled. “I couldn’t even remember my mother’s phone number. I wanted to let her know. She ended up hearing it from the TV. . . . Spiro’s staff went wild” (Agnew, 2000). Nixon had good reason for his choice. In part, what appealed to him about Agnew as a ticket mate in the 1968 presidential duel was the Mary-

The Vice Presidency of Spiro T. Agnew

183

lander’s lack of political baggage. Owing to his relative political inexperience, he had few enemies. “If you put all the conflicting Republican elements into a computer,” estimated scholar Stephen Hess, “and programmed it to produce a vice-president who would do least harm to party unity, the tape would be punched ‘Spiro T. Agnew’ ” (Parmet, 1990: 509). Nixon also calculated that Agnew’s moxie and outspokenness on conservative issues would be invaluable (Hamby, 1985; Hodgson, 1996). This could help woo those on the far-right wing of the Republican Party who never fully trusted the sometimes liberal-leaning Nixon. One does not prepare for the presidency the way Nixon prepared and then cavalierly selected a vice president. To boot, 1968 was Nixon’s second shot at an office to which few men could negotiate even a first shot. So the selection of Agnew is an important window into Nixon’s mental machinations. Late one night in Miami at the 1968 Republican National Convention, Nixon confided to aide William Safire about Agnew: “He can’t make a speech worth a damn, but he won’t fall apart” (Safire, 1980: 157). As it turned out, of course, Nixon had it only half right. For not only did Agnew not fall apart, but with the help of speechwriters Safire and Patrick J. Buchanan, he turned into a speech maker of the first order. The president would quickly discover that his association with Agnew was akin to having a tiger by the tail. More than one person noted—and not entirely in jest—that the vice president was Nixon’s best protection against impeachment. AGNEW’S WELTANSCHAUUNG The Agnew story is not simply about a meteoric rise to the top of the greasy pole of American electoral politics. It equally—and just as interestingly—involves reckoning with what at first blush appears to be a similarly swift political metamorphosis. Though Agnew had championed progressive causes in the first year of his Maryland governorship, the tenor of his approach changed in the second year of his term. He ordered the arrest of 227 black students who picketed the State House for improved conditions at the predominantly black Bowie State University. He delivered a public dressing-down to black leaders in the wake of Martin Luther King’s assassination, although many of those same leaders sought to minimize rioting and looting (Carter, 1996; Marsh, 1971). And he derided faithfuls of the Poor People’s Campaign who set up tents on the Washington Mall as “the so-called poor people with Cadillacs” (Baker, 1998). Why the change? Or, more aptly put, Was there a change? Agnew’s defenders claim not—or, at least, it was not their man who changed. Rather, it was civil rights protesters, Vietnam War dissenters, and others

184

Qualitative Analysis

who became increasingly violent and ribald. Agnew did not metamorphose into a right winger; he simply cranked up the volume of his criticism of such lawlessness (Langston, 1992). And the vice presidency afforded him a unique perch from which to focus the nation’s attention on these matters. Agnew’s critics disagree. They point not simply to the progressive hue of his Maryland political record—the New York Times endorsed him in 1966 by noting that “Both the state of Maryland and the cause of modernminded Republicanism in the nation will benefit if the voters elect him” (“Opportunity in Maryland,” 1966)—but also to the liberal-leaning character of his pre-1968 forays onto the national stage. In July 1963, for instance, Agnew urged that Republicans in 1964 nominate little-known U.S. Senator Thomas H. Kuchel of California for the presidency. “Senator Kuchel, the courageous enemy of all political extremists,” claimed Agnew, “is today’s leading exponent of the moderate viewpoint of Dwight Eisenhower that was twice acceptable to a majority of the electorate” (Agnew, 1963). Of course, Kuchel never even became a candidate in 1964, and Agnew offered only lukewarm support to the party’s eventual ultraconservative nominee, Barry Goldwater. Those who charge Agnew with political opportunism point to these examples as evidence that, by mid1968, Agnew had conveniently changed his stripes in order to make himself palatable to Nixon. The best-known of Agnew’s flirtations with liberal Republicans was his strong support in early 1968 of Nelson Rockefeller. Indeed, until the popular New York governor unexpectedly decided not to seek the Oval Office, Agnew had been the de facto head of a grassroots “Draft Rockefeller for President” movement. The Rockefeller incident introduced Agnew to the vagaries of big-time politics. When Rockefeller proclaimed to television cameras in the March 1968 that he would not seek his party’s nomination, Agnew—fully expecting to hear a speech in which the New Yorker spelled out his White House qualifications—was embarrassed. Rocky’s announcement, wrote Agnew in his autobiography, “left me furious and humiliated. He had not even shown me the courtesy of informing me of his intentions in advance” (Agnew, 1980: 61). To boot, the blow was a public one; Agnew had invited the press to his Annapolis office to witness the Rockefeller speech. The ignominy revealed what a weak force Agnew was in national politics. He was no kingmaker. Even as head cheerleader for Rockefeller’s presumed campaign for president, Agnew proved so inconsequential to Rocky that he learned of the New Yorker’s non-candidacy only along with the rest of the world. It would be a mistake to conclude that this particular incident somehow soured Agnew on liberal Republicanism. To be sure, relations with

The Vice Presidency of Spiro T. Agnew

185

Rockefeller were thereafter strained, but the precipitating event was personal and not ideological. Similarly, even conceding for argument’s sake that Agnew’s political philosophy may have changed between 1966 and 1968, to criticize him on this score is misleading at best and gratuitous at worst. First, as Ralph Waldo Emerson reminds us, consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. And second, the late 1960s were tumultuous years in American politics. To take a politician to the woodshed for reconsidering his views—particularly at that seminal time—is to deny reality. If the same person had refused to tack a bit to the left or the right, given the prevailing political winds of the day, he would be roundly dismissed as obstreperous and perhaps even as anti-democratic. So, at a minimum, the charges that Agnew metamorphosed from liberal to conservative Republican need to be seen in that context. Perhaps the best way to come to terms with Agnew’s supposed chameleon-like character is to draw a distinction between ambition and opportunism (Witcover, 1996). There is a fundamental difference between the two. That Agnew was ambitious few would deny.1 As early as his county executive days, after all, he had endorsed Kuchel for president—and without coordinating the action with the California senator, or, it appears, even seeking his permission! It was a bold and presumptuous move for a political neophyte. But arguing convincingly that Agnew was opportunistic is a more difficult nut to crack. If opportunistic, why did he not support Barry Goldwater in 1964? If opportunistic, why did he commit himself so clearly and openly for Nelson Rockefeller’s presidential candidacy in 1968? Would not an opportunist, given the Kuchel episode, have bided his time until the political landscape was more certain? In the Kuchel and Rockefeller affairs, Agnew is certainly guilty of political misjudgment, ambition, arrogance, and vanity. But not opportunism. Focusing on Agnew’s regard for the law is also useful. Some explain Agnew’s moderate Republicanism by arguing that he “was a 1930s liberal who believed in racial harmony, not a 1960s one who believed in black advances” (Callcott, 1985: 214). This is too simplistic. For it ignores Agnew’s devotion to the law. He was, after all, a lawyer and a law school instructor. Vice presidential aide John Damgard (2000) observed that Agnew “didn’t like lawbreakers. The law was sacrosanct” to him. Devotion to the law—and the order it both represented and occasioned—constituted the core of Agnew’s weltanschauung, or worldview (Freud, 1964: 158). Among other things, it was the tenets of an orderly society that permitted his immigrant father to succeed as a Baltimore restaurateur. The lessons of hard work and industry were not lost on Agnew. As well, morality and fairness were corollary planets in his mental universe. To Agnew, “if you were breaking the law by denying break-

186

Qualitative Analysis

fast [to blacks] at a restaurant, you were just as bad a guy as [the fellow who broke] the law by throwing bombs in draft [riots]” (Damgard, 2000). And then there was loyalty, something which Agnew’s wife singled out as a quality he particularly admired in others. “There were a lot of people,” she sighed, “who disappeared after he resigned” (Agnew, 2000). The intensification of civil rights rioting in Baltimore, and elsewhere in the United States during the spring and summer of 1968 surely played some role in Agnew’s own cerebral musings on the merits of liberal versus conservative Republicanism. These acts of destruction and lawlessness genuinely angered Agnew. They genuinely angered many other white Americans, too—particularly those with blue-collar jobs and those living in the South—who increasingly looked to the Republican Party to stem the tide of permissiveness and wanton destruction that GOPers sought at every turn to associate with Democrats and Great Society liberals. One national poll in the fall of 1968 reported that 81% of the public believed that “law and order has broken down in this country” (“To the Right,” March, 1968: 22). Would the de jure civil rights advances of the late 1950s and 1960s be honored in practice? Or would rioting and marching and preaching and freedom-riding to root out prickly pockets of racial inequality only exhaust white Americans to the point where legal milestones were themselves rolled back? Spiro Agnew was at ground zero as this historical drama unfolded. OUTSIDE THE INNER CIRCLE Politics is ultimately a manifestly human endeavor conducted by leaders of imperfect timber (Gergen & Abshire, 2000: 3). One need not look beyond the personalities of the Nixon White House to support such a claim. Nixon’s chief of staff, H. R. Haldeman, reflected on the unpleasant implications of precisely this phenomenon in his Watergate memoirs, writing “Just as he who lives by the sword must die by the sword, so he whose image or public perception is based on an inaccurate overbalancing of his good qualities must be brought down by the revelation of flaws in that imbalanced portrayal” (Haldeman, 1978: 324). For most of Spiro Agnew’s tenure as vice president, an “imbalanced portrayal” of American society is what many accused him of offering his listeners. His speeches intimated that he saw the world in black and white, seldom in shades of gray. Of course, delivering colorful and alliterative speeches that attacked “pusillanimous pussyfooters,” “vicars of vacillation,” “nattering nabobs of negativism,” “effete corps of impudent snobs,” and “hopeless, hysterical hypochondriacs of history” did not a White House insider make. And Agnew, much to his own chagrin, was not a regular player at 1600

The Vice Presidency of Spiro T. Agnew

187

Pennsylvania Avenue. The U.S. Constitution assigns vice presidents few specific duties, so they are at the mercy of presidents when it comes to their job portfolio. Vice President Hubert Humphrey once famously noted, “He who giveth can taketh away—and often does” (Light, 1984: 258). Though Agnew argued that he supported Nixon’s policies (despite not agreeing with them entirely), his loyalty brought him little in the way of proximity to the circle of power. “I had long desired to be [the President’s] close partner,” wrote Agnew, “but he preferred to work with a controlled staff. I believe he had an inherent distrust of anyone who had an independent political identity” (Agnew, 1980: 26). This assessment becomes even more intriguing when one poses the consequent historical counter-factual question: Might Agnew, as a more trusted partner, have steered Nixon clear of the Watergate imbroglio? In the end, Nixon’s isolation of Agnew probably did deprive the president of some sage advice; all leaders imperil their objectives, and occasionally themselves, if they are surrounded by sycophants. But Nixon had his reasons for keeping his vice president largely at bay. “It is, after all,” wrote Henry Kissinger, “disconcerting to have at one’s side a man whose life’s ambition will be achieved by one’s death” (Bennis & Heenan, 1999: 168). The real story of the Nixon–Agnew years, though, proved to be not how close to power Agnew was, but rather—given the fact that he held the second highest constitutional office in the United States—how far removed he was. For several months in 1969, Agnew had West Wing digs only three offices away from the president’s. But this was “more to keep him on a tight tether than to dignify the vice-presidency” (Osborne, 1970: 120). Agnew actually spent most of his time in his Old Executive Office Building quarters. Nixon had himself been vice president for eight long years (Greenstein, 1982; Smith, 1997: 79–87), and he well understood fellow vice president Harry Truman’s maxim that “presidents and vicepresidents are happy together only when they are not too much together” (Osborne, 1970: 120). Agnew’s sin was appearing too much too soon as Nixon’s competitor. “I wouldn’t put up with this job for another four years if I weren’t interested in seeking the top one,” the vice president cooly blurted after his 1972 re-election (Greene, 1997: 130). Such candor was not lost on the boss, either. The attention that accrued from Agnew’s speechifying gave a swagger to his gait that Nixon and his aides were only too pleased to impair. To both the public and the cabinet, members of Nixon’s staff carefully nursed a conventional image of the president as leader—steady, purposeful, confident, even controlling (Siegel, 1984; Skowronek, 1997). Spiro Agnew recalled what H. R. Haldeman told him after Agnew piped

188

Qualitative Analysis

up at a National Security Council meeting: “The President does not like you to take an opposite view at a cabinet meeting, or say anything that can be construed to be mildly not in accord with his thinking” (Agnew, 1980: 31). It was clear that despite Agnew’s trumpeting of his views to audiences across the country, when it came to White House policy discussions, Nixon expected him to maintain a low profile. In later years, Agnew was openly critical of Nixon’s approach to governing. “The President,” he wrote, “did not have the inner confidence to take even implied criticism of his predetermined decisions” (Agnew, 1980: 32). Agnew then continued, bitterly: I could have no . . . man-to-man talk with President Nixon. Absolutely none. I was never allowed to come close enough to participate with him directly in any decision. Every time I went to see him and raised a subject for discussion, he would begin a rambling, time-consuming monologue. Then finally the phone would ring or Haldeman would come in, and there would be no time left for what I really had come to talk about. He successfully avoided any subject he didn’t want to be pinned down on. He preferred keeping his decision-making within a very small group. I was not of the inner circle. (Agnew, 1980: 34)

One of the most insightful Nixon-orchestrated shenanigans vis-a`-vis Agnew came late in the first term. Corrrespondence leading up to a May 1972 meeting between Nixon and Agnew reveals that Bob Haldeman was instructed to call the vice president with a mere 15 minutes’ notice and inform him that the president wanted to meet to discuss some political items. “The purpose of this short notice,” the memo to Haldeman made explicit, “is so that the Vice-President will come in to the meeting cold, without any staff accompanying him, and be told what it is that the President expects of him” (Talking Paper/Telephone, 1972). Such skullduggery—even cravenness—would hardly have existed in a relationship of equals. Nixon and his intimates finally resorted to these tactics because early in the administration the president found meetings with Agnew to be “invariably unpleasant,” remembered senior aide John Ehrlichman. The President came out of them amazed at Agnew’s self-aggrandizement. Nixon recalled that as Vice-President he had seldom made a request of any kind of Dwight Eisenhower. But Agnew’s visits always included demands for more staff, better facilities, more prerogatives and perquisites. It was predictable that as Agnew complained and requested more and more, Nixon would agree to see him less frequently. (Light, 1984: 155)

Another episode early in the first term foreshadowed the competitiveness between the presidential and vice presidential staffs. A February 1969 memorandum to Haldeman and Ehrlichman asks whether, in the

The Vice Presidency of Spiro T. Agnew

189

president’s absence, the vice president might host a dinner at the White House. To this question, Haldeman scribbled furiously, “Never!! No one hosts dinners in the [White House] except the President” (Chapin, 1969). Nixon, urged (though he hardly needed it) by Haldeman and Ehrlichman, likewise saw fit to advise Agnew on the full range of the vice president’s activities. He told Agnew that, “in terms of his duties on [Capitol] Hill, he doesn’t need to go overboard in sticking to his job of presiding over the Senate” (Haldeman, 1970a). Then in July 1970, partly frustrated by his vice president’s proclivity to attract media attention, Nixon emphasized in a meeting with Agnew that: (1) “the Vice-President should not attempt to make national news in his appearances”; (2) “there should be no attacks on individuals.”; (3) “he [should] not appear to be an unreasonable figure”; and (4) “he should lay off the kids, the Negroes, and the ne’er-do-wells” (Haldeman, 1970b). Later, in November 1971, the President wrote Agnew, “I feel very strongly that as Vice-President you should never appear before a Committee of Congress” (Nixon, 1971). Not long thereafter, in the spring of 1972, as Nixon’s re-election activities moved into high gear, Nixon told Agnew, I wonder how you can reach more people and more groups without spending all of your time making public appearances. I have found myself that it is a waste of my time to sit through an entire dinner of three hours just to give a 10minute speech. Rather, I arrive during dessert, make my remarks, and leave after 10 minutes, thus saving a good deal of time that can be put against other events. (Talking Paper/Vice President, 1972)

Though Agnew was often given the green light to throw the mud so that Nixon might be “presidential” and otherwise above the political fracas, the vice president was also kept on a short leash. TAKING STOCK Novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald said there are no second lives in America. Yet a second life is precisely what circumstances forced Spiro Agnew and Richard Nixon to construct. Both prematurely and begrudgingly ushered from public office, these proud men, it turned out, had 20 years of living yet to do. And they had to do that living amidst sneers and schadenfreude. Nixon’s political experience, particularly in the early and mid-1960s when success eluded him, reaffirmed a life-long conviction that any triumph of his, in the end, would be largely self-made (Greenstein, 1992; Journal of Personality, 1988; Renshon, 1993). Consequently, Agnew was kept at arm’s length when it came to governing and used in only the

190

Qualitative Analysis

most specific of arenas. Nixon cared little about grooming a successor or, in psychologist Erik Erikson’s terms, about “being generative.” Opportunities for the vice president to exercise leadership were limited. For Agnew, the vice presidency was “much less a making than a maiming experience” (Light, 1984: 51). Agnew, as he himself confessed, may not have been “of the inner circle,” but he did wield influence in the Nixon White House. Because they have treated Agnew so cavalierly in their writings on Nixon, many scholars have scarcely acknowledged—or overlooked altogether—this point. Nixon valued Agnew’s role as the administration’s lightning rod, particularly in the congressional campaigns of 1970 and the presidential re-election bid of 1972 (Oudes, 1989: 136, 398, 540). Through Agnew, the president could indirectly criticize journalists, intellectuals, college students, Vietnam war protesters, and others whom he believed imperiled his objectives. Nixon, moreover, could communicate his message with virtual impunity; he could align himself with Agnew when the vice president’s remarks seemed to be playing well among Republican voters, and he could disassociate himself from Agnew when his comments seemed over-the-top or otherwise provoked controversy. For Nixon, it was a circumstance of exquisite Machiavellian dimensions. As president, Nixon was a pragmatist, a centrist. Agnew displayed in public the kind of outspokenness and recklessness that Nixon-the-president could reveal only in private. Of course, having Agnew assume center stage in this fashion carried risks for both Agnew and Nixon. Agnew risked being too closely identified with unpopular administration initiatives. And Nixon risked being upstaged by his vice president. Certainly neither expected the kind of reception that greeted Agnew. Though often roundly criticized and caricatured in the press, he was also receiving several hundred invitations each week to events of various sorts. Aide John Damgard said of the phenomenon: Not too much surprised [Nixon], and if it did he wouldn’t admit it. But I [suspect] he had to think, “God, Agnew is no longer my errand boy or servant. He is a persona in his own right and, God damn it, it seems to be going to his head. He’s out there making jokes and he’s funny and he gets his own invitations and I’m not shuffling stuff off to him.” And he couldn’t help but compare it to his rather lackluster, sheltered life as vice-president himself. One the one hand it might have made him proud that he had picked somebody who could do that. On the other hand it might have made him a little jealous. (Damgard, 2000)

To some observers, Agnew sometimes even appeared more presidential than Nixon. “A stranger to the United States and to them [Nixon

The Vice Presidency of Spiro T. Agnew

191

and Agnew],” wrote John Osborne, “could have supposed that Agnew with his straight stance, his pomaded greying hair, his look of restrained dignity and self-possession was the President being nice to the man who, at any moment and for better or worse, might be the next President” (Osborne, 1970: 124). On occasions when he could act presidential—or, at least, command presidential-size audiences for his speeches—Agnew relished the role. “People loved [his] bravado,” noted an aide, “and he loved the fight” (Damgard, 2000). If in attacking effete liberalism, he growled, “we polarize the American people, I say it is time for a positive polarization.” “The time has come for someone . . . to represent the workingman of this country, the tax-paying patriot” (Siegel, 1984: 229). The vice president’s efforts were resonating, for better or for worse, depending upon one’s perspective. By 1969, voters who once ignorantly guessed to an inquiring television reporter that “Spiro Agnew” was “some kind of disease,” “some kind of egg,” and “a Greek who owns that shipbuilding firm” knew precisely who Agnew was (Chester et al., 1969: 482). “Mr. Agnew is accomplishing the liberation of the vice-presidency,” wrote William F. Buckley, Jr. “If you can say things like that, I think I’d consent to be vice-president” (Buckley, 1972: 247). An upbeat John Mitchell predicted in 1970, “This country is going so far right you are not going to recognize it” (Siegel, 1984: 229). A less sanguine Sargent Shriver lamented that same year, “Spiro Agnew has become this nation’s great divider. . . . [He] appeals to everything low and mean and bitter in the American character” (Oudes, 1989: 532). Agnew’s penchant for candor in his speeches cut both ways. His fiery rhetoric permitted him to cultivate a loyal and vocal constituency of grassroots Republican activists who helped him weather the “dump Agnew” movement of the 1972 campaign. Yet the same flair for selfpromotion also probably served to convince Richard Nixon that “hatchet man”—as opposed to trusted adviser or at-large diplomat—was Agnew’s most useful role in the Nixon White House. Agnew could have the fleeting headlines and evening news sound bites; Nixon was aiming at a more enduring historical reputation for genuine policy achievements.

SCHOLARLY ASSESSMENTS No Rosetta Stone is available to scholars laboring to assess political personalities. Consequently, no single theoretical schema completely captures the psychological contours of the Nixon–Agnew association. And readers would rightly be wary of any such model. Life is not neatly explained; political life even less so. Still, directly and indirectly, some

192

Qualitative Analysis

studies have lifted the curtain on elements of this fascinating relationship. A 1979 study evaluated 24 vice presidents (William Wheeler through Walter Mondale) on the basis of three orthogonal factors: “ActivityCharisma,” “Likability, Nonthreat” and “Shrewd Persistence, Complexity” (Wendt & Muncy, 1979). Overall, Agnew ranked last and Nixon, who had served as Dwight Eisenhower’s vice president, ranked next to last. But those results—given the study’s historical proximity to each man’s premature resignation from office and the concomitant difficulty in assessing their tenures without regard for the eventual manner in which they each left office—are less revealing than other findings. Indeed, this study permits a rare glimpse of Agnew and Nixon on somewhat equal terms, as opposed to the conventional view of the relationship where Nixon, the president, is senior partner. Here each man is scored as vice president. The differences in each man’s age, in historical and geopolitical contexts, in pre–vice presidential experience, and in the sort of president for whom each worked all guard against drawing any profound conclusions from the 1979 study alone. But when personality characteristics suggested by the study are further supported by additional evidence like historical documents and personal interviews, it is worth taking note. In two of the study’s categories, “Activity-Charisma” and “Shrewd Persistence, Complexity,” Agnew and Nixon are situated at some distance from each other. Agnew, for instance, ranks second in the “Activity-Charisma” category, besting by several points such vice presidential notables as Teddy Roosevelt, Harry Truman, and Lyndon Johnson. In the same category, Nixon is placed cleanly in the middle of the pack at fourteenth. Even more divergent is each man’s position on the “Shrewd Persistence, Complexity” scale. Agnew is dead last; Nixon finishes first. What do these scores reveal? For one thing, they help explain the strained, or at least distant, relations between the two men for most of the years between 1969 and 1973. Agnew and Nixon expended different energy levels in their respective vice presidencies and, consequently, acquired different reputations. Nixon could not help but view Agnew’s vice presidency through the lens of his own years under Ike. Agnew’s visibility, popularity, and notoriety far exceeded that of Nixon during his own vice presidential years, and this occasionally irritated him. It suggested to Nixon that Agnew was less loyal to and accommodating of him than he had been to Eisenhower.2 For another thing, the scores from the 1979 study demonstrate that Agnew and Nixon are the most atypical vice presidents in this entire field of 24. Which is to say that they are the two men who least “fit the pattern of historically ‘typical’ vice-presidents,” as measured against this study’s

The Vice Presidency of Spiro T. Agnew

193

particular criteria (Wendt & Muncy, 1979). This result is especially useful because, despite the disparities between the two men noted above, it helps explain the early attraction they felt for each other and how they eventually ended up on the same Republican ticket. Their very atypicality when compared to other vice presidents only serves to make them typical of each other. Another well-known study even located similarities between Spiro Agnew and Ronald Reagan. Dean Keith Simonton investigated the degree to which the biographical profiles of eminent politicians paralleled others in the same profession (Simonton, 1987: 138–40; Simonton, 1986b). Broad categories—ranging from “politician” to “poet” to “scientist” to “artist” to “athlete”—were devised to represent an individual’s “primary” and “secondary” biographical type, given his or her various life experiences. The primary classification for both Reagan and Agnew was “politician,” and the secondary classification for each was “athlete.” None of the other 17 individuals in the sample shared these particular primary and secondary classifications. Neither Reagan’s nor Agnew’s biographical configuration vis-a`-vis the “athlete” category was especially intense; in a range from zero to one, Reagan’s classification in this regard rated .15 and Agnew’s rated .09. Still, the orientation remains intriguing because it suggests the vantage point—both psychological and practical—from which these men exercised leadership. Someone with even a modest predisposition to see the world as an athlete does may be more inclined to inject elements of competition—victory, defeat, teammate, opposition, training, sacrifice— into a process than would someone with the weltanschauung of, say, a poet or scientist. Indeed, in the case of Agnew, the “athlete” biographical type comports well with his actions as vice president. A related 1988 study ranked Nixon (and Wilson) worst among all presidents in the area of “Interpersonal Relations.” As such he (they) scored low when measured against such criteria as “allows Cabinet members considerable independence,” “encourages the exercise of independent judgment by aides,” “endears himself to staff through his courtesy and consideration,” “is flexible,” “emphasizes teamwork,” “maintains close relationship with wide circle of associates,” and “supports constitutional government” (Simonton, 1988: 929, 931). Nixon’s poor showing in this particular category gives credence to the complaints Agnew levels in his autobiography about being kept at arm’s length from the president. Nixon’s lowly status here also accentuates one of the most glaring differences between him and Agnew: social disposition. The president was instinctively distrustful of others, craved solitude, and avoided unscripted, free-flowing events and parties when possible. The vice president, in contrast, had a wide circle of friends, enjoyed socializing, and fed off the energy of others. With some justification, David Riesman

194

Qualitative Analysis

might have called Nixon “inner-directed” and Agnew “other-directed” (Reisman, 1950: 14–21). More precise than Reisman’s typology, though, is one offered by Fred Fiedler and others who distinguish between person-oriented and taskoriented leaders (Fiedler, 1967). The former are able to connect viscerally with others; they have what Daniel Goleman has dubbed “emotional intelligence” (Goleman, 1995). The latter concern themselves less with individuals and more with the problems that afflict individuals; they are what Robert Greenleaf would label “servant leaders” (Greenleaf, 1991). Using this particular distinction, the evidence frankly suggests that both Nixon and Agnew were more task-oriented than person-oriented. On an interpersonal level, Agnew may have exhibited some person-oriented qualities, but in his role as vice president he was more often a problemsolver than a hand-holder. Finally, the peculiarities of leading from the vice presidency—of leading from an office which affords its occupant scant opportunity for one-on-one voter contact and which, consequently, exerts only indirect control over the presumed followers—render important the work of Robert J. House and others in the area of charismatic leadership theory. This theory seeks to understand those aspects of leadership behavior which do not involve direct supervisory relationships or rules and regulations. And in the case of American presidents and vice presidents, most of their efforts fall into this category (House et al., 1991). Instead, they must cultivate citizen support through speeches, advertisements, direct mail, and efforts at influencing news coverage. In a 1991 study, House and his co-authors examined if charismatic leadership affects whether presidents are adjudged effective. They defined charisma as “the ability of a leader to exercise diffuse and intense influence over the beliefs, values, behavior, and performance of others through his or her own behavior, beliefs, and personal example” (House et al., 1991: 366). The authors focused on Max Weber’s concept of pure charisma (they dub it “behavioral charisma”), which accrues from the leader’s behavior, as opposed to his notion of routinized charisma, which results merely from the leader’s occupying of a formal position. The study concluded that “as much as 66 percent of the variability in a measure of direct presidential action may be explained by motives, behavioral charisma, institutional age, and crises” (House et al., 1991: 386). This is an alarmingly high percentage, especially given constitutional and environmental restraints (e.g., checks and balances and the media) operating on the presidency. For such reasons, the authors conceded that the percentage may overstate the actual influence of such variables on presidential performance. But to overstate is not to negate. The study nonetheless identified charisma as a significant factor in evaluations of presidential effectiveness.

The Vice Presidency of Spiro T. Agnew

195

And charisma too seldom figures into analyses of the Nixon–Agnew relationship. In scholarly research hitherto cited, Agnew scores high and Nixon low on the charisma scale. Nixon had qualities (political savvy, pettiness, drive, foreign policy expertise, Machiavellianism) in lieu of charisma, which helped him succeed in the White House. But for Agnew, charisma alone has a good deal of explanatory power. His hard-driving speeches may have angered millions of Americans, but they also resonated with millions. Recall how high Agnew placed in Gallup polls and his forerunner status as the 1976 Republican presidential nominee. Perhaps most telling, Agnew’s popularity—the consequence of his charisma and gained largely through his speechifying—was such that Nixon could not dump him from the 1972 ticket, despite efforts to do just that. In their 1991 study, House and his co-authors speculated that “charismatic leadership is required, or is at least more appropriate, in situations that require a combination of highly involved and active leadership and emotional commitment and extraordinary effort by both leader and followers in pursuit of ideological goals” (House et al., 1991: 391). Few phrases better describe the Agnew vice presidency than the “pursuit of ideological goals.” He wore his conservatism on his sleeve. And his charisma in espousing that conservatism allowed him to flex his arm muscles inside the White House and out. “DIVIDE ALONG AUTHENTIC LINES” The turbulence of the Nixon–Agnew relationship was, if nothing else, consistent. The duo landed in the White House on a campaign platform promising “law and order,” and preying on voters’ fears of race riots and student radicalism. “It is time,” chortled Agnew, “to rip away the rhetoric and divide on authentic lines” (Siegel, 1984: 229). This very same divisive tone—this “us versus them” mentality—pervaded governing, too. Nixon himself hinted at this predisposition toward strong, toughtalking leadership when he lamented in the aftermath of his 1972 visit to China that “The leader class in the United States lack the backbone, the strength [of the Chinese leaders]. . . . Whatever the failures of their system, there is in their leader class a spirit that makes them formidable” (Siegel, 1984: 240). A coldness—and eventually an aloofness—existed in the Nixon administration that all but froze efforts by Agnew to lead in any substantive manner. Haldeman and Ehrlichman, as gatekeepers to Nixon and the Oval Office, stoked the fire of strained relations between the president and vice president. The White House in the Nixon era was a “thieves’ kitchen of intrigue and mutual suspicion” (Siegel, 1984: 226). There was plenty of sniping, too. Agnew’s wife noted that her husband “could not stand John Ehrlichman” (Agnew, 2000). H. R. Haldeman wrote contemptuously in his memoirs of Agnew’s plans to deliver an

196

Qualitative Analysis

insult to Democrats, and of how he (Haldeman) “took on the delicate task of turning off one more potential blunder” (Haldeman, 1978: 221). Another presidential aide dismissed Agnew as a “fish out of water” and a “weird duck” (Anonymous, 2000). Ken Cole complained to John Ehrlichman that “no matter how hard we try, the vice president never seems to be up to snuff as far as what’s going on in the domestic world” (Cole, 1971). Ehrlichman famously accused Agnew of “mental constipation” (Light, 1984: 149). White Houses before and since the Nixon days have witnessed similar animosities. And while the finger-pointing and clever quips must be digested carefully, kernels of truth may be found amidst hyperbolic exaggeration. Take the ambiguous “weird duck” charge leveled against Agnew. To Nixon loyalists, that’s precisely what the Marylander was. Nixon’s career included pronounced controversies: the Alger Hiss case; his bitter campaign for the U.S. Senate against Helen Gahagan Douglas; his “Checkers” speech in the 1952 presidential contest; his 1960 presidential election loss; his 1962 defeat in the California gubernatorial race (Ambrose, 1989, 1991; Schlesinger, 1973). After each, Nixon battled back—and despite pundits’ pronouncements of his political swan song. By comparison, Agnew’s rise was considerably easier. He had never battled back from the political wilderness in the way that Nixon had. Prior to 1968, he had stood for election only three times, never for re-election—and none of his victories was a nail-biter. After his most notable brush with difficulty, vis-a`-vis bribery and income tax evasion charges in 1973, Agnew did not fight back with the same persistence as characterized Nixon’s response to his various gaffes and losses. This difference in circumstance is important. Indeed, it probably helps to explain the starkly contrasting trajectory of each man’s post–White House career: Agnew kept a low profile and Nixon labored tirelessly and publicly to rehabilitate his presidential image. This is not to question the depth of Agnew’s anguish. He surely licked his wounds as much as Nixon. But Agnew healed differently than Nixon. With the lone exception of his autobiography—which he published seven years after his resignation and in which he zealously asserted his innocence (Agnew, 1980)—Agnew rarely surfaced publicly. Notably, he tried his hand at writing a political novel before turning to the autobiography (Agnew, 1976). This was a man who needed to distract himself from his searing White House experience rather than recount it. An aide reasoned that, in Agnew’s mind, “it just wasn’t worth it” to attempt to rehabilitate his image with the same ferocity as Nixon did. Agnew, this aide said approvingly, “was [too] proud. He paid his fine and went off to obscurity” (Damgard, 2000). Ambition held a very different place in each man’s psychology and in

The Vice Presidency of Spiro T. Agnew

197

each man’s aspirations to lead. From his days at small, unknown Whittier College in southern California and his frustration that financial considerations prevented him from attending Harvard (even though he had won admission), Nixon had struggled with his own demons around issues of self-esteem, the privilege accorded those in American society other than him, and personal accomplishment. By contrast, Agnew’s career prior to age 40 was remarkable only in its pedestrian quality for a man who would later become vice president. Agnew never possessed ambition of the same intensity or duration or unbridledness as Nixon. In this, ultimately, Agnew may have been the fortunate one. Though solace often eluded him, Nixon found peace in Sophocles’ observation that “One must wait until the evening to see how splendid the day has been” (Ambrose, 1991: 554). And indeed the evening does give rise to further commentary on the Nixon–Agnew differences. Agnew’s personality permitted him to enjoy the perks of the White House: the socializing, the respect, and the hob-knobbing with hot shots. Not so with Nixon—the man who would build a fire in a White House fireplace while simultaneously running the air conditioning, the man whose staff would script in advance the most informal of social gatherings, and the man who would give White House mementoes to Oval Office guests with the awkward joke that seldom elicited a laugh, “Give this to your wife or your secretary, whichever you prefer” (Haldeman, 1978: 70–71). Agnew had one persona; Nixon had several. Agnew was a lesser politician than Nixon. This is no criticism, simply fact. Yet Agnew was undoubtedly more secure in himself as a person. Agnew was instinctively better than Nixon at the bread-and-butter of political success—interpersonal relations. Nixon was an introvert in an extrovert’s profession. Agnew was a self-made man; Nixon was a man without a self. Agnew had friends; Nixon had colleagues and subordinates. Agnew saw politics as means to serve people first; not until 1968 did he turn particularly ideological. Nixon had been an ideologue since the Alger Hiss days. Agnew’s sense of humor was limitless; Nixon’s was limited. In 1970, Agnew lambasted New York Senator Charles E. Goodell—a Republican who frequently opposed Nixon administration policies—by calling him “the Christine Jorgensen of the Republican party,” a reference to the first person to have undergone a sex-change operation (Witcover, 1972: 378– 79). And at the 1972 Republican National Convention, Agnew nearly succeeded in having the television psychologist Dr. Joyce Brothers second his nomination for vice president—a direct effort to mock the Democrats’ troubles with Thomas F. Eagleton, who resigned as the Democratic vice presidential nominee after revelations that he had un-

198

Qualitative Analysis

dergone psychiatric treatment (Haldeman, 1978: 221). Tellingly, and in contrast to Agnew, Nixon approvingly quoted Charles De Gaulle’s dictum that “a leader must choose between prominence and happiness” (Ambrose, 1991: 590). Agnew was vain; Nixon was a narcissist. With the passage of time, Nixon became more liberal; Agnew became more conservative. Agnew had his “squinty little eyes and mastadonic nose” (Agnew, 1995); Nixon had his jowels. What drew people to Agnew was the force of his personality; what drew people to Nixon was his power. LEADERSHIP LESSONS Not before or since Spiro Agnew has an elected American leader—an American vice president, to boot—sought so purposefully and consistently to deride and belittle so many segments of the citizenry. “The emotional power of his utterances,” observed historian Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., in 1970, “comes from his success in voicing the hatred of the American lower middle class for the affluent and the articulate, for the blacks and the poor, for hippies and Yippies, for press and television, for permissiveness and homosexuality, for all the anxieties and disruptions generated by the accelerating velocity of history” (Schlesinger, 1970: 55). Such a visible office as the vice presidency is typically a perch from which to unify, rather than divide, Americans. During Spiro Agnew’s tenure, the position was used in pursuit of noticeably different ends. For students of leadership, an examination of the contours of the Nixon–Agnew relationship yields several fruitful observations. First, proximity to power does not equate, willy nilly, to the wielding of power. Second, the discharge of power is one element of—but does not itself constitute—the exercise of leadership (Burns, 1978: 18–19). Third, as evidenced by H. R. Haldeman’s and John Ehrlichman’s disregard for Spiro Agnew, the president’s low or limited opinion of someone, if widely known, can provoke widespread dislike of that person by subordinates who choose to imbibe “the boss’s” predilections rather than to arrive at their own conclusions about others. These personality conflicts, in turn, complicate and enervate efforts to achieve more substantive goals. Fourth, deputies or vice presidents who are not specifically groomed and welcomed as successors by their superiors will find their leadership efforts questioned, if not undermined, by some who see them as mere interlopers. And fifth, perhaps the greatest irony of all is that the skills required or the decisions made to attain a position of leadership—witness the Nixon and Agnew strategy of tough talk and divisiveness—do not necessarily bode well for success in that position.

The Vice Presidency of Spiro T. Agnew

199

In the end, Nixon and Agnew were each responsible for their own fall from grace. Agnew’s sin was venial, whereas Nixon’s was mortal—or at least constitutional. Both men mistook their personal ambition for public principle. That’s a sobering lesson for all leaders. NOTES 1. Ambition, particularly in politicians, is not as negative a characteristic as is sometimes believed. Studies demonstrate that political candidates who are ambitious and who work hard to attain their positions—as opposed to those who run merely because they are urged to—are more active and engaged in their jobs. See, for instance, Barber (1965) and Browning (1968). 2. As noted elsewhere in this article, see, for instance, John Ehrlichman’s assessments of Nixon’s irritation with Agnew (Ehrlichman, 1982: 155). Also, John Damgard (2000) suggested Nixon’s irritation over such matters in an interview with the author.

Chapter 11

Governing a Divided America in the New Millennium: Heroic versus Reflective Leadership Stanley A. Renshon

INTRODUCTION Americans, at the beginning of the new century live in a time of unprecedented prosperity. Yet, they continue to be uneasy about the quality of their leaders, the competence of their institutions, and the larger meaning of their lives. They live in a country where there is increasing interconnectedness but far less relatedness. They live in a country where indicators of economic and cultural well being go in opposite directions. And they live in a country where, in spite of its success, many—in most polls a majority of its citizens—are profoundly troubled by the direction in which it appears to be going (Wysocki, 1999; Pew Research Center, 1999). On top of these divisive paradoxes, the country has just emerged from one of the most evenly split, bitterly fought, and unusually concluded presidential elections since 1876. The president, George W. Bush lost the popular vote by 539,897 votes (Associated Press, 2000a), and beat his opponent, Al Gore, in the Electoral College by gaining only one more than the 270 votes needed to win. Moreover, he gained Florida’s decisive 25 electoral votes only after 36 days of raw political and legal combat between the two candidates, which was settled by a controversial U.S. Supreme Court decision only five days before electors were scheduled to meet and cast their states’ votes for president. Small wonder, many questioned whether any president could effectively govern in such circumstances. Previous chapters in this volume have focused on individual leaders. This chapter begins by examining the psychological context in which

202

Qualitative Analysis

they operate and the profound changes that are unfolding. I first examine America’s divisions at century’s end and ask what kind of leadership is appropriate to it. I draw a distinction between reflective and heroic leadership and suggest that in countries like the United States, which are deeply divided, it is the former, not the latter, that best fits our times. I then turn to an examination of the how these two leadership templates unfolded in the 2000 presidential election and close with some observations about presidential leadership before and after the September 11 terrorist attack. However, before turning to those concerns, it is first necessary to understand a key term, leadership capital, and the history of its depletion over several decades. Social Capital and Leadership Capital Social capital is the latest conceptual attempt to account for democracy’s persistence and, when it occurs, its success. Unlike civic culture arguments, social capital theory locates the foundations of democracy not primarily in citizens’ beliefs, nor in their institutions, but in the relationships of each to the other (Putnam, 2000). Constitutions may provide a framework and institutions a setting, but it is the engagement of citizens in the view of social capital that provides the building blocks of successful democracy. Yet, social capital alone cannot explain democracy’s success when it occurs. I coined the term “leadership capital” (Renshon, 2000) to conceptualize an important distinction between the public and their institutions, on one hand, and the equally important relationship between the public and their leaders, on the other. I view leadership capital as an independent and critical element of successful democratic performance. It consists of the competence, integrity, and capacities for leadership of those given discretion to make society’s consequential decisions. It can be accumulated or depleted, and it is deeply embedded in, and reflective of, the cultures in which it operates. Leadership capital reflects a leader’s character, capacities, and performance. Character refers to the core elements of a president’s, or anyone’s, interior psychology. It is the building block of personality (although not synonymous with it) and the foundation in which leadership capacities are embedded. Elsewhere (Renshon, 1998a), I have developed a formulation of character for use in leadership analysis which relies on three essential elements: ambition, character integrity, and relatedness. Ambition refers to the motivation to accomplish one’s purposes and the skills that help to support the effort. Character integrity reflects a person’s fidelity to a consolidated set of ideals and values. Relatedness refers the person’s basic stance toward others. Beneath whatever social skills a person develops, there lie basic psychological tendencies to move toward, against, away, or apart from others.

Heroic versus Reflective Leadership

203

The term “capital,” as in leadership capital, suggests a surplus—something that you have beyond sufficiency, that enables you to do something else of value. Greater wealth for example, provides the means to support materialism, opportunity, or disengagement. Social trust provides the means to find common ground and undertake common purpose. Leadership capital and how to earn and expend it in a divided society are central questions and the key focus of this chapter.

Character Integrity and Leadership Capital No discussion of the role of character in leadership capital would be adequate without a focus on character integrity. One important function of character integrity—fidelity to values and ideals, is to provide an anchor for ambition. However, it also provides a clear link between who the leader presents himself to be and who he is. Leaders whose persona actually reflect their psychology gather two critical elements of leadership capital drawn from their interior psychology, integrity and authenticity. This is not a matter of political ideology— leaders of the left, right, and center can have fidelity to their political ideals and values. The critical issue here is the fit, or lack thereof, between what the leader says he stands for and what his behavior reveals about his actual commitment to those ideals and values. Character integrity is a resource for a leader in working through the difficult process of deciding and governing. It provides an anchor in a sea of decisional ambiguity and uncertainty. It can also sustain a leader’s capacity to stay with a problem even when it is politically difficult to do so. It can provide a guide to what the leader finds personally acceptable, rather than wholly politically expedient. And it can reinforce a leader’s personal confidence and sense of personal integrity, which can be an important solace in a sometimes difficult and unforgiving political world. However, character integrity does more than buttress a leader in the difficult position of making judgments and trying to carry them through. Character integrity is a critical element of leadership capital in divided societies in which consensus is elusive and divisions rife. It provides the public with a sense of reassurance that they have given their legitimacy to someone honest enough to deserve it. And it serves as the basis for extending to the leader the benefits of trust—time in which to complete his work—the benefit of the doubt in conflicted circumstances and the capacity to tolerate setbacks.

Declining Social Capital and the Culture of Leadership The controversies swirling around definitions of modern American national identity have been paralleled by debates regarding the decline of

204

Qualitative Analysis

social capital (Putnam, 1995; see also Ladd, 1999; Norris, 1996). Decreasing levels of trust in social and political institutions, declining political participation, and declining public interest in and attention to many spheres of public life remind us that healthy democracies are as much a function of their publics’ psychology as they are of formal documents (Almond & Verba, 1963; Lasswell, 1959). The country’s reserve of leadership capital has declined as well, and at the same time. Consider the modern presidency, where we have gone from hidden hands (Greenstein, 1982) in the behind-the-scenes leadership of Dwight Eisenhower to the hidden motives of “New Democrat” Bill Clinton (Renshon, 1998b). Of the eight post-Eisenhower presidents, five were unable to gain or serve through a second term because of their own failings, and the sixth barely managed a second term in spite of them. President Johnson repeatedly lied about Vietnam and squandered his leadership capital. Mr. Nixon committed felonies and squandered his. Mr. Ford squandered his by pardoning his predecessor. Mr. Carter failed to combine honesty with competence and squandered his, and Mr. Bush demonstrated inspired leadership abroad but less inspired leadership at home. Mr. Clinton managed a second term, but left a legacy so marred by avoidable error that his presidency could hardly be considered a success. Indeed, only Ronald Reagan managed to serve two terms and leave the office with his leadership capital and his reputation in tact. Leaders must be able to mobilize citizens in support for their mutual goals. However, mobilization is not synonymous with simple arousal. The capacity to harness ambition to ideals and values that resonate with citizens but that sometimes require the leader to moderate citizens’ more unreflective “demands” is one example of the link between leadership capital and citizens. Yet, Americans have become accustomed to expecting “anything and everything” (Boorstin, 1987: 3–4). In response, no small number of political leaders have hastened to assure us that it is possible to keep our illusions in the face of reality—without becoming disappointed, cynical, or hopeless. Such leaders assure us that it is possible for government to tax less, spend more, and save; for schools to painlessly promote both merit and inclusion; and for families to be constituted anyway adults choose without harmful effects on children. The decline of leadership capital in the United States owes much to the actual psychology and behavior of the leaders who depleted it. Yet, it would be unfair and erroneous to attribute all our misfortunes to them. We, the public, must share a substantial part of the responsibility as well. To understand that responsibility, we must first ask some questions about the public’s psychology, or as I will argue is the case, public psychologies. What are the public’s expectations of our political leaders? How, if at all, have they changed? What are the implications of these changes for the accumulation or reduction of leadership capital? And,

Heroic versus Reflective Leadership

205

finally, how do they affect the capacity to, and the methods by which one might, govern in a divided society? Discussions of the relationship of leaders to their “followers” repeatedly invoke the assumption of a unified public psychology. Winston Churchill, it is assumed, spoke to the need of all the English for heroic leadership to defend the country. Likewise, discussions of Franklin D. Roosevelt assume that all Americans (rich and poor) welcomed the heroic leadership necessary to save our economic and political system. In times of overriding systemic crisis, it makes sense to think in terms of a unified public psychology. However, does it make sense to assume that in less catastrophic times? I think not. At least in the United States, it is useful to think in terms of several public psychologies rather than a public psychology. Heroic versus Reflective Political Leadership It is against this background that it becomes clearer that there are two very different templates of leadership competing for public support in America at the turn of the twenty-first century. In the modern presidency, one has become traditional and well-known; the other is emerging and not yet well articulated. These models of leadership are, respectively: the heroic and the reflective. Heroic leadership in American society is the traditional. Its archetype is Franklin Roosevelt, its metaphor the hierarchy, and its motto: decide and command. The task of the heroic leader is to convince the public of what it is that he already thinks they must do. It envisions the leader as struggling against, and overcoming through determination, courage, or even artifice, the circumstances he must surmount. He is known for his authoritative views and acts, not his accessibility. He makes no concessions to the illusion of public intimacy, because the heroic leader stands above, and beyond, his supportive publics. Some sense of the kinds of leaders who typify this model are found in James McGregor Burns’ (1978: 1) lament: One of the universal cravings of our time is a hunger for compelling and creative leadership. Many of us spent our early years in the era of the titans . . . Mao and Gandhi, Churchill and Roosevelt, Stalin and Hitler and Mussolini. . . . These giants strode across our cultural and intellectual and political horizons. We—followers everywhere—loved or loathed them. We marched for them and fought against them. We died for them and we killed some of them. We could not ignore them.

Reflective leadership, on the other hand, is personal and diffuse. It draws its authority not by being beyond people, but by being of and like

206

Qualitative Analysis

them. It draws its legitimacy not by gathering up all available power, but by dispersing it. Its prototype, but not its archetype, is Bill Clinton. Its metaphor is the prism, and its motto is: select and reflect. It is not reflective in the introspective sense, but rather in the sense of radiating outward. The task of reflective leadership is to gather the disparate elements of a frayed or fractured political and cultural consensus and mirror them so that publics can see the basis for their common purposes. The reflective leader diffuses conflict, not sharpens it. It is leadership whose purpose is not to choose and impose but to engage and connect. It is in a basic sense, restorative—although this need not make it conventional. And it is profoundly interpersonal in nature. Freud believed that when crowds (publics) were beset by anxiety they turned to leaders, but that in the process group members became disconnected from each other. In these circumstances, Freud (1920) argued, group members were only indirectly allied to each other and then only through their joint connection to the leader. This is one drawback of heroic leadership. Reflective leadership, unlike heroic leadership, seeks to develop common horizontal ties, not direct and hierarchical ones. The reflective leader does not bend the public to his will, but rather leads by serving as an expression of a more common will. He does not so much command as explain. He does not so much tell as ask. And he is not so much the author of the publics’ common interests as their reflection. Reflective leadership is not passive, nor is such a leader essentially a “clerk” (Neustadt, 1960). His agenda is common purpose, and the circumstances that give rise to this kind of leadership will no doubt require him or her to fight vigorously for it. What kind of circumstances give rise to such leadership? Several seem immediately clear. Countries in which there are no great mobilizing crises but which are none the less deeply divided seem ripe for reflective leadership. Add to these two factors citizens who feel separated from their major institutions and each other and who technologically and socially have decreased need to be so connected. The result is a political culture and system in which the issues that divide the country are less responsive to traditional heroic leadership. Technology is part of the reason that reflective leadership has been gathering momentum. Bennett (1988) sees economic dislocation and anxiety as the cause of the public’s disconnection from traditional means of civic engagement. Geographical, occupational, and other forms of mobility also add to the loosening of traditional ties. Robert Lane (1978), in his prescient early paper, referred to this as “sociological release,” the freeing of people from formerly restricting, but also connecting, categories. He also worried that the “colder” market of exchange had increasingly supplanted the domain of community. Communications, mirroring

Heroic versus Reflective Leadership

207

politics, have become decomposed into niches (Blumer & Kavanaugh, 1988).1 And, of course, the rise of the Internet certainly allows and may facilitate social disconnection from common purpose (Shapiro, 1999: 118– 20). There are other factors to consider here as well. The rise of the idea of candidate-centered politics (Wattenberg, 1991) and the parallel decline of party-centered politics (Wattenberg, 1990) is a well established fact of modern American political life. Less commented upon in relation to these developments is the function that party-centered politics plays in forging horizontal ties among the public to each other as well as vertical ties with the leader. With traditional party politics, selected candidates were broadly reflective of the party identification and less directly reflective of the candidates’ idiosyncratic personal characteristics. Of course, these personal characteristics did matter to some degree, but they reinforced and were consistent with the party as a major organizing frame of reference and did not surpass or transcend it. As a result, supporting publics were connected primarily to each other via the party, not the candidate. In the world of party-centered leadership, there was no expectation that publics would be connected directly and psychologically with the leader. There was no expectation that the leader would strive for intimacy, or the illusion of it, with party supporters. It was enough that he or she represented their broad interests and views. With the decline of party-centered politics and the rise of candidatecentered politics, that balance shifted. Voter attachments came to be more connected with individual candidates and their specific formulation of policies, and secondarily to the party. Democrats (Republicans) were still Democrats (Republicans) of course, but the particular personal characteristics of the candidates began to assume increasing importance. Changes in party nomination rules (especially among Democrats) made insurgency (eg., non-party-regular) candidates viable and successful. These developments accelerated the ascendancy of persona over party. George McGovern in 1972 and Walter Mondale 1988 ran as unabashedly liberal Democrats, a stance which pleased a well-defined but narrow base of party activists, but not the general public. Jimmy Carter ran and won on his plain spoken honesty and his blend of conservative and progressive views, not on his long and successful association with the Democratic party. Bill Clinton ran and won office as a Democrat who repudiated the narrow liberalism of past party stalwarts and was a person whose deeply effective charm appeared to trump his character. Yet, paradoxically the rise of candidate-centered and “personal” politics has not led to more trust between candidates and their publics. On the contrary, the more we get to know about some leaders, the more

208

Qualitative Analysis

they need to reassure us that what we think we know isn’t necessarily true, or is at least irrelevant to our larger concerns. Bennett (1995: 94) captures this paradox precisely, In this climate of anger, suspicion and restlessness, politicians must continually work up new strategies to keep themselves on the good side of the public, as the Clinton campaign illustrates so vividly. In the current electoral environment, candidates must manufacture short-term images and feed them back continually to skeptical voters in as intimate a style as electronic media permit.

In short, as political parties ceased to stand for broad inclusive views and policies, and as each new candidate refined party principles in his or her own idiosyncratic and politically self-interested way, there were less stable and consistent principles to which supporters could attach themselves, and a corresponding rise in the number of independent voters. One consequence of this was not only the consolidation of candidatecentered politics and a corresponding rise in voters’ connections to individual leaders and their specific personas and policies, but also a dramatic rise in the transience of voters’ attachments. You might be a Democrat and like Jimmy Carter but not Walter Mondale. You could like Bill Clinton but not Al Gore. If you were a Republican you could like George W. Bush much better than you liked Bob Dole. Segmented political markets and the capacity to reach them, along with candidate-centered politics, led voters to expect that their specific, individual views would be catered to by candidates. And candidates rushed to reassure voters, through the symbols of intimacy like town meetings and policies derived from intensive use of focus groups, that they were doing so. As Bennett (1995: 92) has insightfully noted, “the combination of unrealistic public expectations of familiarity coupled with shallow political attachments gives rise to candidacies that focus on responsiveness, intimacy (no matter how contrived) and continual reassurance.” These developments were much in evidence in the 2000 presidential campaign, and it is there that we now turn.

THE 2000 PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION: GOVERNING ON THE RAZOR’S EDGE One thesis of this chapter is that the nature of leadership is changing and a new form emerging. America is poised, perhaps stuck, between two very different understandings of that critical term—one heroic, the other reflective. It is one more way in which America seems to be divided, and it is as yet unclear how the resolution of this dilemma will unfold, or be resolved, if it is.

Heroic versus Reflective Leadership

209

The Razor’s Edge: Some Figures The 2000 presidential election marked the culmination, and perhaps the most concrete expression, of a trend that had been gathering momentum since the 1964 presidential election, which gave Democratic Party nominee, Lyndon Johnson, a landslide-level victory and a majority in both houses of Congress. Thereafter, Americans apparently began to see the advantages of divided government. Lyndon Johnson did not stand for a second term, and Republican Richard Nixon took his place. He didn’t finish his second term, and Republican Gerald Ford took his place, only to be dispossessed by Jimmy Carter, who in turn was beaten for a second term by Ronald Reagan. Mr. Reagan won two terms but had to be content with a Democratic Congress in both of them, as did his one-term successor, George H. W. Bush. Mr. Clinton won the presidency with less than 50% of the votes cast. Worse, his lurch to the left after promising to govern from the center cost him and his party control of both houses of Congress, a condition that continued through his second term. Looking back, that makes 37 years, with modest exceptions, since the Congress and the presidency were in the hands of one party. That brings us to 2001 where, for the first time since Jimmy Carter had the advantage for four years and Mr. Clinton for two, a president entered office with his party in control of Congress. However, that control was razor-thin and very vulnerable to a mid-term election (2002) or other reversal. In 2002, 23 Republican Senate seats are up for re-election and only 14 Democratic seats. Before the Republicans’ loss of control in the Senate, the even split meant that Dick Cheney would have to be available to break tie votes. The one-vote Democratic majority in the Senate has not made building winning coalitions easier for either party. In the House, the margin was less narrow, but not much more robust—221 versus 212 seats, with two independents (Eilperin, 2000: A5). The last time control of the Congress was so evenly divided was in 1953–1955, when Republicans had a 49 to 46 Senate edge, and a 219–215 edge in the House (Clymer, 2000: A1). About 51.2% of the nation’s 200 million eligible voters cast ballots in the recent election, marginally greater than the rock-bottom level seen in 1996, but significantly lower than the 1992 level (Dreazen, 2000; Associated Press, 2000a). In 1996, only 49% of those qualified to vote actually did so, the lowest turnout since 1924. By contrast, some 55% of the electorate went to the polls in 1992’s close race between Bill Clinton and President George H. W. Bush. In that election, Ross Perot ran as the Independent Party candidate, and Mr. Clinton won a plurality, not a majority, of votes cast. George W. Bush’s victory was extremely narrow in a number of im-

210

Qualitative Analysis

portant respects. Out of more than 105 million votes cast, Mr. Gore received 50,996,064 votes, or 48.39%, George W. Bush received 50,456,167 votes (a difference of 539,897), or 47.88%, while Green Party candidate Ralph Nader received 2,864,810 votes, or 2.72%, and Independent Party nominee Patrick Buchanan received 386,024 votes, or .037%. Combining Mr. Gore’s left-of-center candidacy with Mr. Nader’s veryleft-of-center insurgency, this election revealed a plurality of just over 50% for left-of-center candidates. Existing polls supported this. Barnes (2000: 17) notes that exit polls showed that compared with 1996, 2% more voters self-identified as liberal and 3% less self-identified as conservative. The Electoral College vote was narrow as well. Mr. Bush won 271 votes there, one more than necessary, and Mr. Gore won 266, having received one less than he won because of a protest vote by a District of Columbia elector protesting the “colonial status” of the district (Stout, 2000). Mr. Bush won 30 states, Mr. Gore 20. A look at the electoral map (Figure 11.1) suggests that each candidate’s strength was geographically concentrated. That map has led some to question whether geography is indeed becoming political destiny. Teachout (2001: 24) argues: Look at the national map. Except for Alaska and New Hampshire, all 29 states won decisively by Bush are geographically contiguous, forming a vast L-shaped curve that sweeps down from the Rocky Mountains across the Great Plains, then through the Midwest and the South. By contrast, except for California and Washington, most of the states won decisively by Gore are bunched tightly around the urban and industrial centers of the Northeast and the Great Lakes.

In line with this, Brooks (2000: 26) notes that “each party is getting more dominant in its home base.” The Razor’s Edge: Two Cultures/Two Nations—One Country? However, Mr. Teachout (2001: 24; see also Himmelfarb, 1999, 2001) clearly has more than geography on his mind: [T]he voting populations of these two geographical entities are, taken together, almost identical in size. Yet, they are very different places. On one side of the fence is an urban- and suburban-based coalition of government employees, union members, blacks, and those highly educated, comparatively affluent “knowledge workers” known to political scientists as the New Class. On the other side is the contemporary equivalent of what H. L. Menkin dubbed the Bible Belt . . . in which rural and small town America have joined forces with the fast growing group of Americans who live in “exurbia,” the new middle-class communities that are springing up beyond the rim of the older suburbs.

Figure 11.1 Electoral Vote Map

212

Qualitative Analysis

The result is that, as the recent election indicates, “Himmelfarb’s ‘one nation, two cultures’ is splintering still further, this time into two geographically and culturally distinct units—call them ‘Democratic Nation’ and ‘Republican Nation’—that are competing for control of the country as a whole.” Himmelfarb, whose two-culture thesis (1999) is the basis for Teachout’s analysis (2001), does not disagree. Teachout (2001: 26) is well aware that one must be cautious in ascribing uniform views, since neither group is wholly homogeneous. However, his point is that while the election may have been very close when viewed through the traditional lens of states won and electoral votes gained, the election was not at all close when viewed through the lens of distinct political groups. So for example,2 the more regularly you attend church, the more likely you were to vote for Mr. Bush. Sixty-one percent of voters who never go to church voted for Mr. Gore. Americans of African decent voted nine to one for Mr. Gore, while 60% of Caucasian men voted for Mr. Bush. More men than women voted for Mr. Bush; he gained 53% of married women’s votes, while Mr. Gore received 57% of unmarried women’s votes. Mr. Bush received the votes of 56% of those women who are married with children. Of the 4% of voters who identify themselves as homosexual, 70% chose Mr. Gore. Of the 16% of voters who belong to unions, 62% voted for Mr. Gore. In some states the combination proved even more potent. John Judis (2000: 18) points out that exit polls in Michigan showed Mr. Gore winning 91% of the African-American vote and 64% of the union vote, which makes up more than a quarter of the electorate there. He also won a majority of votes from those with advanced degrees and those making more than $75,000 per year. Those with incomes under $15,000 were strongly in favor of Mr. Gore (57% to 37%), as were 58% of working women. He received 79% of the Jewish vote, but only 42% of the Catholic vote. Finally, Mr. Gore received 70% of the votes among those who thought abortion should always be legal. Consistent with Figure 11.1 and Mr. Teachout’s analysis, 29% of the 2000 voters lived in a city setting, and 61% of them voted for Mr. Gore. Forty-three percent lived in suburbs and the candidates split this vote (47% Gore, 49% Bush). And, 28% of 2000 election voters lived in rural settings and 59% of these voted for Mr. Bush. There are other sharp differences that could be noted. However, I think the point is at least established and somewhat supported: Mr. Gore and Mr. Bush appealed to two very different constituencies—geographically and categorically, with reference to their life circumstances. The question to which we turn in the next section is whether the candidates approached their leadership roles in a way that gives any support for the distinctions drawn between reflective and heroic styles.

Heroic versus Reflective Leadership

213

HEROIC AND REFLECTIVE LEADERSHIP IN THE 2000 PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN As leadership theorists repeatedly point out, there is a close connection between a leader and his or her times. Dire circumstances call for heroic leadership. Yet, one thesis of this chapter is that changes in public psychology have led to the development of a new form of political leadership—one that is less based on command and more on the articulation of common concerns. Americans flirted with heroic leadership in the 1992 and 1996 presidential campaigns with Ross Perot and Pat Buchanan. Both articulated, encouraged, and tried to make use of grievance, coupling it with their own strong claims for heroic leadership status. Pat Buchanan in 1992, like Alan Keyes in the 2000 campaign, ran on the premise of his own strong ideological consistency. Whether leading a “pitchfork revolt,” (Buchanan) or finding dignity in a mosh pit jump (Keyes) neither candidate could promise Americans more than uncompromising conflict in a society already weary of it. In 1992 and 1996, Ross Perot emphasized “straight” but not particular insightful talk coupled with a promise to open up the hood of government and get in there and fix it—period! Having come from the quintessential command-and-control experience (his own company), he was ill prepared, ill suited, and in the end mismatched for the position to which he aspired. Americans may have been responsive to his apparent but limited candor, but not at the price of his temperament and control. Bill Clinton: Reflective Leadership Harbinger? Bill Clinton was successful in both elections because he represented a new, less sharp-edged leadership. He was certainly the harbinger, and to that point the best example, of reflective leadership. His reflective style is easily documented. He promised to “put people first,” and seemed to care and connect with many Americans. They, in turn, connected with him. His was a very personal candidacy. He certainly was required by questions about his behavior to share, and explain, more of his personal life than had been the case for other candidates. Yet, he was also personal in another very direct and important way. He was the candidate who said, “I feel your pain”—a statement of direct, personal, even intimate connection. During one 1992 presidential debate, he was asked by a woman to comment personally on how the problems of the national debt affected the economic problems of common people. The question could well be rephrased: Are you one of us? He responded by saying that as governor of a small state he personally knew people who had been affected and tried to help them. President Bush, on the

214

Qualitative Analysis

other hand, seemed genuinely interested in and surprised at the new supermarket check-out counter scanners. This led some to conclude he was “out of touch with the daily lives of Americans.” And of course, it was hard for the public even to pretend they would have the requisite “personal intimacy” with such a candidate. Mr. Clinton did not promise to command, but to respond. He would “focus like a laser” on the economy, which is what many Americans wished, since they were worried. He reassured us that as a leader he would not aspire to grand plans, but rather sensible policies. His political stance as a “New Democrat” promised to heal the cleavages that permeated our society and do so in a way that would bring left and right, Democrat and Republican, together in new common efforts. In short, he was the prototype, yet until he was forced to work with a Republican Congress, ultimately a flawed exemplar, of a new leadership style that had been building in this country for several decades. It is now clear in retrospect that Mr. Clinton adapted a reflective style to mask some very basic heroic tendencies. For example, in the same State of the Union Address he told the American public that the “era of big government was over,” and also spent almost all his time laying out an unusual number of new government initiatives. When the inconsistency was raised with him by Washington Post correspondent John Harris, Mr. Clinton bridled and lashed out at him (Harris, 2000: B1). As a result of many such incidents, Mr. Clinton, far from diminishing political and cultural conflict, helped to escalate it. Far from bringing people together, he divided them. The country may have been prosperous and not at war, but it was not at peace. That was part of his legacy as Al Gore and George W. Bush campaigned to take his place. If this analysis is correct, a number of Americans were not looking for a fighting leader, but a leader who could, but only if necessary, fight. They prefer someone who reconciles rather than divides, and they prefer someone with common plans, not large ones. Al Gore’s Heroic Leadership Style Viewed from this perspective, Al Gore’s psychology and campaign may well have represented a mismatch between him and the new, emerging climate of American leadership. Vice President Gore was very programmatic, a reflection of his interest and experience in government. His strong support of government programs reflected a very robust view of their role. Although he was most often viewed as coming out of the Clinton small-bore program mold and was criticized by Mr. Bradley for lacking “big ideas,” Mr. Gore put forward many potentially large-scale program initiatives during the primaries. He proposed $115 new billions for education (Seelye, 1999: A1), $7.1 new billions for a “Democracy En-

Heroic versus Reflective Leadership

215

dowment” that would have had the federal government fund all elections (Connolly, 2000a: A6), $2 new billions more on parks (Associated Press, 1999: A2), and so on. During a campaign debate with his rival, Bill Bradley, the vice president said (quoted in Harris & Allen, 2000: A1), that he believed the next president could and should seek to do many things; “I have different models for the presidency—leaders like Franklin Roosevelt, John Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson,” Gore said. “They knew that we had to proceed on all the great unfinished business of our society.” This is heroic leadership with a decidedly large “H.” For all the moderation that is a key element of Mr. Gore’s political persona, it is still basically a command-and-control model. Had Mr. Gore been elected president, there would have been a basic clash between his policy aspirations, his capacity to carry them out, and the public’s support of his many large initiatives. Consistent with the fact that heroic leadership aspirations are associated with doing more, CNN exit polls found that of the 43% of the public who wanted the government to do more, 74% voted for Mr. Gore. And of the 53% who wanted the government to do less, 71% voted for Mr. Bush. Mr. Gore’s relentless pursuit of traditional Democratic constituencies and his inability, or disinclination, to even symbolically distance himself from his core constituencies raised the issue of how fairly Mr. Gore would represent groups across the board and not only the constituent pillars of the Democratic Party. Mr. Clinton had Sister Soulja; Mr. Bush warned the Republican Congress against balancing the budget on the backs of the poor. There was not even this symbolic space between Mr. Gore and his traditional Democratic party supporters. Here, too, one can see differences between reflective and heroic leadership styles as well as a mismatch for both candidates. Recall that personal intimacy, no matter how contrived, is part of what voters want to feel from candidates. A candidate like Bill Clinton who says he feels your (personal) pain is much more in keeping with the “intimacy” of reflective leadership than one who will fight for particular groups. Mr. Gore’s campaign theme “fighting for you” represented a good fit between his psychology and leadership style, but it was sometimes accomplished in a harsh way. It remains to be seen whether many Americans wanted strident rather than calming leadership. Promising to fight, as Mr. Gore did, against those “large forces” arrayed against you, appeals to an individual’s sense of anxiety and grievance, but not to their sense of intimacy. Someone who says he will fight those battles for you that you are powerless to win doesn’t foster a sense that he is like you. It is also instructive to consider the stylistic differences of leadership style embodied in signature phrases. In using his signature phrase, “I feel your pain,” Mr. Clinton signaled a very personal, intimate,

216

Qualitative Analysis

and responsive leadership style. In using his signature phase, “I’ll fight for you,” Mr. Gore signaled that standing apart from the public, he saw what they needed and would, through his own heroic efforts, get it for them. Vice President Gore is a smart man. He is deeply versed in policy issues. There is no doubt that on grounds of experience, he is well qualified for the presidency. However, he is a candidate whose determination and earnestness can easily shade off into insistence.3 He is a man who very much wants to be president and gives the impression of being willing to do almost anything to get it.4 In one article Mr. Gore is quoted as saying “you have to rip your opponent’s lungs out and then move on.” He is also very easily drawn to harsh demagoguery. This is apparently an update of early political advice given to him by his mother (Connolly, 1999). During a relatively peaceful period in which the public said it was tired of intense conflict, this might well have been a drawback. Mr. Gore’s Intimacy Problem Mr. Gore and his campaign realized early on that inability to easily connect with other people presented an “intimacy” problem. This in turn led to a search for symbolic manifestations of connections with ordinary people. The long and public kiss that Mr. Gore’s gave his wife before a national television audience awaiting his acceptance speech can be seen from this perspective and was somewhat successful.5 Other efforts were less so. In the first presidential debate Mr. Gore used two people to make a policy point. In the first instance he said: I’d like to tell you a quick story. I got a letter today, as I left Sarasota, Florida. . . . His name is Randy Ellis, he has a 15-year-old daughter named Kailey, who’s in Sarasota High School. Her science class was supposed to be for 24 students. She is the 36th student in that classroom, he sent me a picture of her in the classroom. They can’t squeeze another desk in for her, so she has to stand during class. I want the federal government, consistent with local control and new accountability, to make improvement of our schools the number one priority so Kailey will have a desk and can sit down in a classroom where she can learn.

The trouble with this story was that it was highly misleading. The girl was without a desk for one class period (Kennedy, 2000; see also Sack, 2000), and the reason according to the school’s principal was that it was the first day of class and “Sarasota High School is typical of most American high schools. At the start of the school year, schedules are in flux. Students and furniture are moved about the campus to accommodate learning needs.”

Heroic versus Reflective Leadership

217

The second incident occurred when Mr. Gore raised the issue of one Winifer Skinner: I mentioned her earlier. She’s 79 years old, she has Social Security. I’m not going to cut her benefits or support any proposal that would. She gets a small pension. But in order to pay for her prescription drug benefits, she has to go out seven days a week, several hours a day, picking up cans. She came all the way from Iowa in a Winnebago with her poodle in order to attend here tonight.

The trouble with this story was that Ms. Skinner was, it turned out, somewhat eccentric, preferring to search for cans even though her son was a well-to-do professional who was well able to, and did, provide his mother with economic assistance. And of course, few asked how a woman who needed to collect cans to pay for prescription medicine could afford a Winnebgo or the gas money to get from Iowa to Boston. There was also the story of Mr. Gore’s mother-in-law and his assertion that she paid more for her prescription arthritis medicine (Lodine) than it cost for his dog. This story turned out to be inaccurate in several respects, the most important to our concerns here was the fact that he didn’t actually know what his mother-in-law paid and had never spoken to her about it (Associated Press, 2000b). All three of these stories raise the issue of Mr. Gore’s tendency to exaggerate, but they also reflect a lack of knowledge about each of the persons that he cited. In all of these stories, what seemed to be firsthand individual knowledge turned out not to be accurate, so this further emphasized his actual distance from the people he had presented as knowing. Mr. Gore’s public relations effort to enlist a group of “real people,” to advise and accompany him as he prepared for his first debate (Connolly, 2000b) did little to dispel this impression. In reality, Mr. Gore spent almost all his time with his real advisors behind closed doors. George W. Bush: A Reflective Leader George W. Bush, on the other hand, represents a different kind of leadership. He is certainly not as programmatic as Al Gore, and assuredly not as well versed on the details of myriad policy complexities. Perhaps as a result of having entered politics later in life, his record in Texas indicates he is not a man of large agendas. That is a decided drawback to those who look to government to solve the host of problems we confront. Yet the point here is that such a perspective basically represents a heroic view of leadership. CNN exit polls showed that among those who wanted the government to do more, not less (43%), 74% choose Mr. Gore and only 23% choose Mr. Bush. So too, Mr. Bush’s commitment to facilitating institutions in the “civil society” to stimulate horizontal pub-

218

Qualitative Analysis

lic connections is certainly more consistent with reflective than heroic leadership. As noted, reflective leadership is not necessarily passive or conflict avoidant. Mr. Bush’s cabinet selections confirm he is comfortable being at the center but doesn’t need to be “on top.” And his decision against hiring Dan Coats at Defense demonstrates that he is not, as critics charge and no doubt hope, a rubber stamp for his advisors. His willingness to go forward with his agenda in the face of his narrow victory suggested as well that he would not wither in the face of loud complaints that he was not “bipartisan” enough. President Bush is scrappy and can bristle when challenged on something he feels he is being inappropriately asked. Appearing before 700 students at Newberry College, Bush got angry when asked if he was attempting to co-opt Senator John McCain’s agenda with talk of being a reformer. Bush told the student to “sit down,” words he often uses when faced with questions he doesn’t like. Bush went on to say that most GOP senators had rejected McCain’s push for campaign finance. He can also be tough, as his ads on McCain’s votes against pork, which included money for cancer research, indicated (Levy, 2000). Yet, as one reporter noted, surprisingly Mr. Bush appears squeamish and uncomfortable with the politics of insult—and not very good at it. He notes that when Mr. McCain used the slur “gooks” to refer to his North Vietnamese guards when he was a prisoner of war (Mr. McCain later apologized), Mr. Bush had a perfect opportunity to criticize his opponent. But when the issue arose at Mr. Bush’s daily press conference, this was the exchange (Kristof 2000: A23): Q: “Is that appropriate language for someone running for president?” A: “That is going to have to be up to the people. You know, it’s amazing. I haven’t seen that in the press yet. I appreciate you bringing that up.” Q: (inaudible) A: “I better not say anything about it, lest I be accused of negative campaigning.” Q: “Do you have an obligation as a leader to take a stand on that kind of language?” A: “He has an obligation as a potential leader to explain what he meant.”

At base, Mr. Bush is a person who moves toward people, not against them. Generally, the evidence is that he is more a conciliator than a divider. After watching him over time on the campaign trail, one New York Times reporter (Kristof, 2000: A23) wrote, “Mr. Bush is a natural politician—far more so than the vice president—with a down-home, oneof-the-guys charm that puts people at ease. He loves the crowds, relishes

Heroic versus Reflective Leadership

219

the limelight and invariably comes across to audiences as likable, funny, sincere and decent.” Mr. Bush is certainly intelligent enough, but not as versed or as immersed in policy detail as Mr. Gore. He is as interested in building relationships as he is in building policy monuments. On domestic policy, he cares deeply about education. However, no one can reasonably argue that he sees himself proposing, much less providing, a solution to the many problems that one could address. Mr. Bush envisions a government of limits, and that reflects something about his ambitions for accomplishment in office. It also suggests a view that is consistent with the American public. Overall, CNN exit polls showed that the public prefers that government do less (53%) rather than more (43%). Mr. Bush may also be better at providing reassurance to the public than he is at providing “intimacy” and immediate responsiveness. He is well known, like his father, to deeply dislike introspective questions about himself. And he does not easily share the personal details of his life. On the other hand, Mr. Bush is a leader who may provide a different kind of intimacy—one rooted in authenticity. Mr. Bush is a man who apparently wears his emotions on his sleeve, so to speak. He is not good at hiding what he feels. When he is unsure, he doesn’t mask it. When he feels confident, it is obvious. When he is moved, it is clear. When he is angry or upset, you know it. This may well prove to be a form of public intimacy—knowing that what you see is truly what there is. This was certainly the case for Ronald Reagan. And while such clarity may not be profound, it does seems to have been critical to his (Reagan’s) connection to the public and their confidence in American leadership institutions during his administration.

Public Views of Heroic and Reflective Leadership: Significant Questions, Few Answers If heroic and reflective leadership are viable substantive categories, we should see some evidence for them in the choices that voters make and those things they find important in making them. One place to begin this task is with an examination of the reasons given for their votes. Exit polls provide some data. Yet, they appear to generate more questions than answers. In this section, rather than attempt to explain the sometimes anomalous findings, I would like to use them to sharpen the questions we might reasonably and usefully ask. One reason for caution in interpreting these data is that some questions that would seem very relevant to the distinctions between heroic and reflective leadership are simply not asked. I’ve not seen any specific attempts yet to measure a candidate’s expansiveness of vision. A second,

220

Qualitative Analysis

major problem is that the arguments which partisan supporters have used (and their candidates have made) might well shape the pattern of responses. This can occur regardless of whether these characteristics would be theoretically or ordinarily associated with either type of leadership.6 So, for example, the category “cares about people” was chosen as important by about 12% of the respondents. Of those, 64% chose Mr. Gore as doing so and 31% chose Mr. Bush. Mr. Gore’s major campaign theme, “fighting for you,” may well have led his backers to view him as “caring for people.” Yet, it is unclear just what these findings suggest for the two templates of leadership style. Can heroic leaders still “care about people”? Perhaps they can. Would a question which asked whether the heroic leader “cared about people like me” elicit the same response? If it did, it would suggest that both heroic and reflective leaders could share a sense of personal connection to their followers. If reflective leaders establish more of a personal connection with their followers, does it mean that they are better liked? Perhaps. Only 2% of the poll respondents chose being “likable” as an important quality, an indication that is not highly relevant. Yet, among those who did, 59% thought Mr. Bush was and only 38% thought that of Mr. Gore. Other exit poll data raise larger questions regarding the nature of the reflective or heroic leader’s ties to the public. For example, consider the question of “strong leadership.” We might ordinarily associate that with heroic leaders, but I have also suggested that reflective leaders are not clerks and are not conflict avoidant. Being a strong leader was selected as important by 14% of respondents. Thirty-four percent of those who so chose said Mr. Gore was such a leader, while 64% thought that applied to Mr. Bush. If Mr. Gore is indeed out of the heroic mold and Mr. Bush is helping to define the reflective, it is clear that we will have to think further about our understandings of what constitutes “strong leadership.” One conceptual path for doing this that seems highly promising is found in the domain of honesty and trustworthiness. Consider a “strong leader” in the sense of having large plans and high self-confidence about him, who nonetheless is seen as having his ambition trump the public’s ability to count on him. This seemed to be the case in the 2000 campaign with Mr. Gore. Of course, Republicans made Mr. Gore’s “willingness to say or do anything to get elected” a campaign issue, but that message seems to have fallen on receptive ears. So, a very high 74% of CNN exit poll respondents thought Mr. Gore would “say anything.” There was, of course, a partisan split in these numbers with 39% of Mr. Gore’s supporters saying it was true and 58% of Mr. Bush’s supporters saying yes. Still, the numbers, even among Gore supporters, suggest the extent to which this was a problem.

Heroic versus Reflective Leadership

221

Or consider the qualities that Americans find important in a leader. The item that garnered the highest percentage of mentions was honesty and being trustworthy. Twenty-four percent of respondents thought it important, and of those only 15% thought the characteristic fit Mr. Gore, while 80% thought that it fit Mr. Bush. Does the view that you are “willing to say anything to get elected” undercut a claim on “strong leadership”? It seems likely on theoretical grounds that it would. So, that might be one plausible explanation of how you could have a heroic leadership style, yet not be seen as a strong leader. One other set of questions that arise in connection with these data are the role of experience and of “understanding the issues.” Do either of these have a solid theoretical tie to either reflective or heroic leadership? The answer to that question is unclear. Presumably experience would be relevant to both leadership types, although it might be argued that the more heroic the changes a leader wants to make, the more prepared by virtue of experience he ought to be. The same could be argued for “understanding,” although reflective leaders might well have to understand and select from among the disparate elements they mirror. Moreover, while success in achieving heroic aspirations might be tied to “understanding” and “experience,” having those aspirations in the first place would seem to have much more to do with a leader’s level of ambition, self-image, and self-confidence. Two questions having to do with experience and understanding distinguished reasons given for voting for Mr. Gore as opposed to Mr. Bush. Among those who selected “understanding issues” (13%), about 75% chose Mr. Gore and 19% chose Mr. Bush. Among those voters who thought experience important (15%), 82% chose Mr. Gore and 17% chose Mr. Bush. It seems clear that Mr. Gore had substantially more political and executive experience than Mr. Bush, and his advocates voted, in part, on the basis of that fact. Finally, we turn to a basic question about reflective and heroic leadership that has to do with the relative importance of personal qualities and the issues in making leadership choices. While leadership of both kinds has become more personal, it is possible to suggest that reflective leadership is more so. Why? The reflective leader is not chosen so much on the basis of his policy depth as on his interpersonal skills in bringing disparate elements or groups together. Knowledge of the issues has been a continuing theme in democratic election debates, and this one was no exception. Sixty-two percent of the public thought that knowledge of the issues was more important than the personal characteristics of the candidate. Yet, here too, we can see a split between Bush and Gore voters. Fiftyfive percent of the latter thought that issues were more important and 40% of the Bush supporters thought so. The larger split came with dif-

222

Qualitative Analysis

ferences on the importance of personal qualities versus issue knowledge, with 62% of Bush supporters saying personal characteristics were more important and 35% of Gore supporters so thinking.

AMERICANS’ CHOICE: REFLECTIVE OR HEROIC LEADERSHIP? As America begins the twenty-first century it is clear that its politics are as divided as its culture. It seems clear that Al Gore and George W. Bush not only represented two different political parties and two different philosophical views, but two vastly different approaches to leadership and governing. The country then is split along several deep fault lines—cultural, political, and psychological. At present, a conflicted and hostile stalemate permeates our politics. And a motivated avoidance characterizes much of our civic life. There is little doubt that the country can endure such circumstances for a time, but whether it can prosper is another question. Mr. Bush assumed the presidency with some groups highly suspicious and antagonistic toward him. In such circumstances it is not clear what all the calls for “bipartisanship” really mean. From those who opposed him, the phrase appears to be a demand that he act in accordance with their wishes, not the principles and programs on which he campaigned. In such circumstances it is correct to question whether an agreement to do so would not be seen as the post-election equivalent of being willing to say anything to win—in this case saying anything to stay in power, or to accumulate legislative “victories.” Mr. Bush campaigned on a platform of uniting Americans and promised to be president of “all the people.” These are reflective leadership themes. Mr. Bush appears to be a conservative pragmatist and one whose pragmatism and moderation are reflections first of his psychology and thereafter of his strategy. However, he operates in a political world in which public patience is mercurial and its trust in leaders, of whatever style, is stretched thin. Moreover, he governs in a country where many still look up to leaders for heroic answers and see no limits on what they can reasonably expect or ask. In such circumstances President Bush’s capacity to govern and do so effectively will tell us a great deal about the powers, and limits, of reflective leadership. It will also tell us a great deal about Mr. Bush himself, a man who has been systematically underestimated throughout his public life. However, most of all it will tell us something very important about us, as citizens and Americans, and about our prospects as a viable democracy and country.

Heroic versus Reflective Leadership

223

CONCLUDING REMARKS: PRESIDENTIAL LEADERSHIP BEFORE AND AFTER SEPTEMBER 11—AMERICAN POLITICS TRANSFORMED? The new millennium began as a paradoxical time for American politics. While America had unparalleled status and influence abroad, it was beset domestically by fractious disagreements about its values, history, culture, and policies. Divisive issues such as affirmative action, abortion rights, English as America’s basic language, homosexual marriage, and many more matters of heated debate had roiled American politics for several decades. They showed no signs of abating, even though a majority of Americans found a consensual range of agreement on many of these issues (DiMaggio et al., 1996; Wolfe, 1996, 1998). The 2000 presidential election pitted not only two men, but also the two different styles of leadership—heroic and reflective—discussed in this chapter (see also Renshon, 2001). What kinds of circumstances give rise to such leadership? At the time of the election, it seemed clear that countries like the United States, in which there were no great mobilizing crises, but which are nonetheless deeply divided, were ripe for reflective leadership. Adding to the impetus for reflective leadership was the fact that until the terrorist attack many citizens felt separated from their major institutions and each other. As a result, the country seemed psychologically and structurally less responsive to traditional heroic leadership. All of this changed dramatically as a result of the terrorist attack on the morning of September 11, 2001. Americans were traumatized, and the circumstances of the Bush presidency were transformed. What had been a presidency struggling to implement its agenda in the face of a divided public and contentious Congress was now a wartime presidency. It was immediately clear to observers from across the political spectrum that this was a defining moment for Mr. Bush, his presidency (Beschloss, 2001; Broder 2001b; Fineman 2001a; New York Times Editorial, 2001a; Seib 2001), and for Americans. The crucial question, given that concerns had already been raised about Mr. Bush’s readiness for the presidency, was quite simple and profound: Would he measure up? In a general way, the answer appears to be yes. He has rallied a stunned nation and effectively capitalized on the “rally effect” to mobilize Congress for a true bipartisan effort around the issues of American domestic and international security. After a difficult beginning many— but not all—observers praised Mr. Bush for his forceful, steady response. R. W. Apple, Jr. (2001) wrote that the Bush presidency had seemed to gain legitimacy. From solid, steady, but hardly robust public approval levels in the low-to-mid 50 percent range, President Bush had surged to unprecedented heights of public approval—at least for the short term. Whether and for what reasons he might be able to maintain a strong

224

Qualitative Analysis

level of public support through difficult times is also a critical question for his presidency and for the public’s relationship to it. These important questions regarding Mr. Bush, his presidency, this country, and its institutions have framed the transformation of his circumstances and ours. It seems clear that the Bush presidency has been transformed. Yet, we are too close to the events unfolding after the terrorist attack to understand specifically how the presidency has been affected and what the long-term implications are for Mr. Bush and for the country. If the public’s relationship to this country, its institutions, and its politics has been transformed, in what ways has it been so? There is also evidence that Mr. Bush himself has been changed (Sanger & Bumiller, 2001; Sanger & Van Natta, 2001). Dana Milbank (2001a) of the Washington Post has reported on the alterations in President Bush’s leadership style based on interviews with White House aides (see also Milbank & Graham, 2001). Cummings and King (2001) have reconstructed the president’s decision process, specifically his rejection of a military plan that he thought too tepid in response to the terrorist attacks. Dick Cheney has given details of the administration’s decisionmaking processes in an interview with Jim Lehrer (Transcript, 2001). If Mr. Bush has changed, what are the implications of these transformations for Mr. Bush, for presidential leadership, and for the public’s relationships to its leaders and institutions? PRESIDENT BUSH: BEFORE AND AFTER The circumstances of Mr. Bush’s election created substantial controversy. His policy ambitions once in office created more. Mr. Bush appeared unbowed by his narrow victory margin. He began his administration with a number of far-reaching proposals, initiatives whose scope and nature were far more consistent with a robust numerical mandate than the razor-thin margin by which he gained office. It was widely said during the campaign that Mr. Bush was a leader who liked to focus on articulating a few policies and then pursue them relentlessly. As evidence, proponents of this view pointed to his campaign for governor, which featured four prominent themes—education, tort reform, strengthening the criminal justice system, and welfare reform (Minutaglio, 1999: 277–79; Mitchell, 2000: 304–5). And it is true that in his first campaign for, and in his first term as governor, he did do that. Yet, his behavior upon reaching the presidency was quite different. A superficial look might indicate that Mr. Bush was going to repeat his governor’s strategy in the White House. He announced on August 31, 2001 that his four priorities for the fall were “the economy; education; opportunity, including his ‘faith-based’ legislation; and security, including defense, Medicare and Social Security.” Ari Fleischer, Mr. Bush’s

Heroic versus Reflective Leadership

225

spokesman, promised that the president “is going to focus like a laser beam” on his four categories (quoted in Allen, 2001a: A8). Yet, in reality this list did not add up to four. Only two of these, the president’s education bill and his faith-based bill, were embodied in a single bill. The others involved more than one initiative. Mr. Bush’s major tax cut, for example, was viewed as the first in a series of steps. The fourth area, security, contained three very major legislative initiatives, of which defense strategy and reorientation were only the start. Additionally, Mr. Bush wanted to undertake a revamping of Social Security and the Medicare programs, two politically sensitive and difficult undertakings. Small wonder that David Broder (2001a: B7) of the Washington Post was questioning whether Mr. Bush wasn’t trying to do too much with too little political capital. Mr. Broder noted that Mr. Bush had actually expanded his “to do” list with a comprehensive energy plan, itself made up of a number of far-reaching and controversial parts; an HMO reform bill; and a trade bill to give the president “fast-track” authority (see also Cooper, 2001). To this, Broder might have added an unexpected and controversial initiative to “regularize” the status of millions of illegal immigrants in this country (Schmitt, 2001); a major plan for a “new federalism” (Allen & Balz, 2001); a new initiative to provide housing for the disabled (Allen, 2001b); a new plan to enforce and refine gun control (Lichtblau, 2001); a “New Freedom Initiative” to help the disabled (Hunt, 2001); and a review of a host of regulatory rules in areas including ergonomics (Dewar & Skrzycki, 2001), medical records privacy (Pear, 2001), and environmental enforcement, including air pollution (Pianin & Mintz, 2001), land usage and control (Jehl, 2001), and the Endangered Species Act (Seelye, 2001). Far from presiding over an administration of limited policy ambitions, Mr. Bush, even before the terrorist attack of September 11, was a president of robust policy ambitions. It appears there were heroic elements in what looked like a reflective leadership style. The events after September 11 transformed the Bush presidency from one struggling, not always successfully, to create bipartisan majorities on each piece of its legislative agenda to a wartime presidency with all that entails. It also appears to have brought about changes in his leadership style (Milbank, 2001a). What might in retrospect be described as a mixed heroic/reflective style had been transformed to one that was more fully and explicitly heroic. Yet, it was a style in which reflective elements like his “plain talk” remained. After the attack, President Bush stated that his administration was wholly refocused on the worldwide fight against terrorism. And indeed, Milbank (2001b) reported that almost the entire White House staff had switched from whatever they were working on to responding to the attack. Just how long a single-minded focus on terrorism at the expense

226

Qualitative Analysis

of domestic concerns could continue was an open and important question. Polls began to show it wouldn’t be too long. Mr. Bush himself was said to have been transformed. He used protean language, casting this struggle as a “war,” a “crusade,” and a stark confrontation between “good and evil.” These are large terms reflecting large tasks and large ambitions. While the answer to the question of whether the Bush presidency was transformed as a result of September 11 is clear—it was—the question to whether Mr. Bush himself has been transformed is more complex. Certainly, a president’s response to dramatic and extremely critical events gives us a measure of the man and his leadership. It is also true that presidential responses to even the most momentous events must begin with the basic building blocks and raw materials of a president’s psychology, character, and leadership skills. Karl Rove, Mr. Bush’s senior advisor, was asked about this (AEI transcript, 2001: 3): Mr. Mann: Karl, to the outside world, it looks as if there have been two George W. Bush presidencies already, the pre–September 11 and the post–September 11. Is that simply a caricature of what we see? Mr. Rove: Well, I’m not certain it is that much different . . . I for one don’t buy this theory that September 11th somehow changed George W. Bush. . . . But really since September 11th, I think what America has seen—and great events do not transform presidents. They bring out who they are. . . . So my view is that all this about he’s changed and he’s transformed, no, he’s who he is, required to do more in a great crisis, so you don’t manufacture these things. You don’t create them. They’re either there or they’re not. The moment calls them out or the moment doesn’t. The moment requires something of you, and you’re either able to do or you aren’t.

Mr. Rove is on solid ground in one respect, but not in others. It is obviously very hard for a president or any person to change his basic psychology in response to a singular event, one that took place within the space of a few minutes. In that respect Mr. Rove is right. Mr. Bush was not a transformed person after that second plane hit the World Trade Center, but I would argue that he was a different one. Before September 11, Mr. Bush had many domestic policy ambitions and several major foreign ones. After September 11, all those competing priorities were reframed through a policy lens of singular focus—ridding the world, but more specifically the United States, of the scourge of international and domestic terrorism. Aaron Wildavsky’s two presidencies (1996) had for Mr. Bush become one.7 Before September 11, Mr. Bush’s irreverent, sometimes impish humor was frequently on display. After September 11, it receded to the periph-

Heroic versus Reflective Leadership

227

ery, replaced by a deadly seriousness of purpose. Berke (2001: B7; see also VanderHei, 2001) reports that while Mr. Bush still cannot resist a joke or two (even ribald ones), dozens of friends and advisers who have spent time with Mr. Bush said in interviews that since Sept. 11 he has conducted himself far more seriously than he had before. Friends say that while Mr. Bush usually appears outwardly upbeat—and is trying to convey a sense of normality—the terrorist attacks and their aftermath have weighed on the 55-yearold president far more than the lowest moments of the grueling presidential campaign.

Before his election, questions had been raised regarding Mr. Bush’s level of, and even capacity for, gravitas—that sense of presence, standing, and authority so necessary to leaders wishing to command attention and stimulate compliance. In the hours following September 11 a number of commentators, many critics, saw Mr. Bush as barely filling his role. Howard Fineman (2001b) wrote in Newsweek, “Bush has yet to find a note of eloquence in his own voice. He is, in fact, distrustful of it, and went for Texas plain talk, rhetoric as flat as the prairie and as blunt as a Clint Eastwood soliloquy. . . . he did not look larger than life at his Oval Office desk, or even particularly comfortable there.” Howard Rosenberg, a reporter for the Los Angeles Times, called Mr. Bush stiff and boyish, writing (quoted in Harper, 2001) that “Bush has lacked size in front of the camera when he should have been commanding and filling the screen with a formidable presence . . . even his body language is troubling.” A short time later, Mr. Bush appeared before a national audience in a prime-time live news conference. An editorial entitled ” Mr. Bush’s New Gravitas” (New York Times Editorial, 2001b: A24) stated: [T]he George W. Bush who addressed the nation at a prime-time news conference yesterday appeared to be a different man from the one who was just barely elected president last year, or even the man who led the country a month ago. He seemed more confident, determined, and sure of his purpose and was in full command of the complex array of political and military challenges that he faces in the wake of the terrible terrorist attacks of Sept. 11. It was for the most part a reassuring performance that gave comfort to an uneasy nation. . . . He’s better at it than he and his aides think.

Mr. Bush had found his voice as he moved from struggling to enact his political vision in a divided, contentious society to a leader pursuing the larger purpose of a national mission. In short, Mr. Bush did not become a new man after September 11, but he certainly became a different one.

228

Qualitative Analysis

AMERICAN POLITICS AND SOCIAL CAPITAL: THEN AND NOW A central question of presidential leadership in the aftermath of the September 11 terrorist attacks is the public’s view of and response to it. The last three decades have been difficult ones for American political culture as Americans have lost regard for their leaders and their institutions—with a few exceptions—and levels of civic engagement have declined. These trends have been studied under the rubric of social capital. As previously defined in this chapter, the term “capital,” as in social (Coleman, 1987, 1988, 1990; Putnam, 2000) or leadership (Renshon, 2000) capital, suggests a surplus—something that you have beyond sufficiency, which enables you to do something else of value. How to earn and expend leadership capital in a formerly divided society—but newly united country—became central issues in the aftermath of the terrorist attack. As America began the twenty-first century, it was clear that its politics were as divided as its culture. The famous red and blue 2000 election map reflected a country split along several deep fault lines—cultural, political, and psychological. Before the attack, a conflicted and hostile stalemate permeated our politics and a motivated avoidance characterized much of our civic life. Calls for “bipartisanship” often masked partisan agendas. Indeed, in a country so deeply divided it was hard to understand exactly what bipartisanship meant or how it could be implemented. The terrorist attack pushed “normal” politics to the periphery and the politics of unity to the fore. Yet, many divides remained. Republicans and Democrats disagreed about the nature of the economic stimulus package and whether airline security should be completely federalized. Republicans and Democrats have joined together against others in their respective parties on issues of balancing the need for wider government powers to address domestic security issues and a concern with civil rights. And of course many contentious issues still remained—on judicial appointments, energy policy, and missile defense. In these circumstances is it is important to ask where the American political center lies and how it is related, if it is, to previous understandings of “bipartisanship.” Will domestic and national security issues continue to be the frame or prism through which most politics is viewed and conducted in the United States? Is this finally the post–New Deal realignment for which political scientists have been searching in vain for the last 50 years? If not, what will the current focus on security gradually transform into, and with what implications for presidential leadership and governing thereafter?

Heroic versus Reflective Leadership

229

The terrorist attack has changed American political culture—at least temporarily. Government is now seen as essential, certainly in the most basic areas of American domestic and national security. Trust in government, long in decline, has surged. While in April 2000 only 4 percent of the public thought you could trust the government to do what is right “almost all of the time,” and 26 percent thought you could do so “most of the time,” by September 27, 2001 a Washington Post poll indicated that the respective figures were 13 and 51 percent! (Morin & Deane, 2001). Certainly, these figures are consistent with, and perhaps are a result of, support of the president’s performance to date. Mr. Bush’s father enjoyed similarly high support after the Gulf War, but failed to make good use of his leadership capital and wasn’t re-elected. What will George W. Bush do with his? Finally, it is clear that American political culture is now experiencing a surge of strongly explicit and expressive patriotism. Attachment to and support of country have, for the present, displaced the politics of identity (Sengupta, 2001). This is a development of potentially enormous significance. Can a newer national identity be forged in which attachment to country exists harmoniously with the many other attachments that are possible in a multicultural democracy? Will the president recognize the implications of this development and guide it in constructive ways that extend its benefits? Will such a “new identity” make the politics of the political center clearer? Will it facilitate the emergence of real bipartisanship to replace the masked partisanship it covered before the attack? These are enormous and important questions for Americans as they begin the new millennium, and the answers are far from clear. Mr. Bush has demonstrated he knows how to lead our country into war. Whether he can also maintain and extend our sense of unity as Americans is at least as important. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS This analysis draws on and builds upon Renshon (2001). Research for this chapter was facilited by a research fellowship from The Joan Shorenstein Center on the Press, Politics, and Public Policy at the Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University, and a grant from the Horowitz Foundation for Social Policy.

NOTES 1. In George W. Bush’s campaign against John McCain in New York State, specific attacks were targeted to specific regions where they might be most effective. So, Mr. McCain’s vote against money to support a hospital specializing in breast cancer treatment was targeted to Long Island, site of the hospital. An-

230

Qualitative Analysis

other piece of mail was sent to Republican voters in districts with a heavy concentration of farmers, noting that Mr. McCain had opposed letting New York enter the Northeast Dairy Compact, which would have provided higher payments for milk. Still another was sent to the northern reaches of New York, citing Mr. McCain’s votes against aid to help people in paying fuel costs (Nagourney & Perez-Pena, 2000: A1). 2. The figures that follow are drawn from Teachout (2001), the CNN nation exit polls: http://www.cnn.com/ELECTION/2000/results/index.epolls.html (December 28, 2000) and http://www.latimes.com/news/timespoll/ (December 28, 2000). 3. One reporter (Allen, 2000: A9) covering Mr. Gore noted the connection as follows: “Gore doesn’t so much ask for a vote as insist on it. He starts every town meeting by promising to answer every voter’s question, no matter how long it takes. It is a shtick—wherever he goes, he says, “If necessary, I’ll stay here till March 7”—but he follows through with earnestness . . . he took questions at a gymnasium in Springfield, Mass., for more than three hours. By that time, all but a dozen of the 300 audience members had filtered out. ‘Would you like to add comments about anything I might have overlooked in my treatment of this?’ he asked a woman who had just heard an exhaustive account of his views on homeless people. Later, he asked, ‘Did that sound like a good agenda to you? I’m trying to convince you all to vote for me.’ ” 4. One New York Times reporter (Bruni, 2000) captured this element in comparing the motivations of Mr. Gore and Mr. Bush. He quotes Mr. Bush as saying, “the most difficult part of that endeavor [the campaign] was being on the road.” Bruni notes in comparing the two leaders that their responses to the rigors of campaigning provided an interesting contrast. Of Mr. Gore, Bruni writes, “Vice President Al Gore comes off as one of the most ardent, ambitious aspirants to the Oval Office in quite some time, a man who would crawl across broken glass to get there.” Of Mr. Bush he writes, “Mr. Bush comes off as a man who wants it, but not at any price, and sometimes not as much as he wants to wake up in his own bed at the Governor’s Mansion in Austin, Tex., wander downstairs to make a pot of coffee, let out the pets and fetch the newspaper.” 5. Dennis Farney (2000) noted that “The one Al Gore planted on his wife Tipper at the Democratic National Convention seems to have packed a political wallop. That is the message from a focus group here in the St. Louis suburbs— swing voters in a swing state. Because of the vice president’s uncharacteristic show of emotion, along with a fatherly hug of his daughter Karenna and a solid convention speech, the group is re-evaluating him in a whole new light. ‘Al Gore really surprised me. I didn’t know he could be so passionate,’ said Jim Baker, a 54-year-old political moderate who remains undecided but now leans toward Mr. Gore.” New York Times reporter Carolyn James (2000) wrote of the kiss, “But instead of letting go, as nice politicians are supposed to, he wrapped her tighter in his arms, closed his eyes and gave her a full-mouthed kiss that lasted an exceptionally long time. (Actually three seconds; we have tapes; we’ve counted.) When he remembered where he was—on national television about to accept his party’s

Heroic versus Reflective Leadership

231

nomination for president—he backed away and went on with his business. Of course, he could not really have forgotten the cameras for a second, and soon commentators were speculating about how calculated the kiss was. Mrs. Gore had spent days on the talk show circuit trying to humanize her husband’s image, after all. And here was the living proof of his humanity, and a photograph the papers couldn’t resist.” 6. Some characteristics were important to either candidate. For example, good judgment was chosen by about 13% of the voters, and among those so choosing, there was no appreciable difference between those voting for Mr. Gore (48%) and Mr. Bush (50%). Other characteristics did distinguish support for the candidates. 7. Aaron Wildavsky (1996) wrote of “The Two Presidencies”—one domestic, the other focused on foreign affairs. He argued that presidents were always more constrained in the former than the latter and would thus be tempted to turn toward foreign policy for accomplishments that were more difficult to achieve domestically.

References

Abel, E. (1966). The missile crisis. Philadelphia: J. P. Lippincott. Agnew, J. (2000). Personal interview with author, March 21. Agnew, S. (1963). Personal correspondence, 1/63–12/63. Spiro T. Agnew Papers. University of Maryland at College Park. Series I, Subsection I, Box I. Agnew, S. (1976) The Canfield decision. Chicago: Playboy Press. Agnew, S. (1980). Go quietly . . . or else. New York: William Morrow & Co. Agnew, S. (1995). Comments, quoting an unnamed writer, on the occasion of the dedication of Agnew’s bust in Statuary Hall, U.S. Capitol Building, Washington, DC. Author’s transcription of videotaped ceremony, May 24. Allen, M. (2000). Road trips in northeast put contrasts into focus—Gore’s full force makes Bradley seem subtle. Washington Post, February 21, A9. Allen, M. (2001a). Bush’s Mexican guest worker plan to push English but White House won’t have proposal ready in time for state visit of president Vicente Fox. Washington Post, September 1, A8. Allen, M. (2001b). Kennedy joins Bush in unveiling aid for disabled. Washington Post, February 2, A2. Allen, M., & Balz, D. (2001). Bush unveils “new federalism.” Washington Post, February 27, A10. Allison, G. T. (1971). Essence of decision. Boston: Little, Brown. Allport, G. W. (1931). What is a trait of personality? Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, 25, 368–72. Almagor, M., Tellegen, A., & Waller, N. (1995). The Big Seven model: A crosscultural replication and further exploration of the basic dimensions of natural language trait descriptors. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 69, 300–307. Almond, G. A., & Genco, S. J. (1977). Clouds, clocks, and the study of politics. World Politics, 27, 489–522.

234

References

Almond, G. A., & Verba, S. (1963). The civic culture. Boston: Little, Brown. Alvarez, L. W., Asaro, F., & Michel, H. V. (1980). Extraterrestrial cause for the Cretaceous-Tertiary extinction. Science, 208, 1095–1105. Ambrose, S. (1989). Nixon: The triumph of a politician, 1962–1972. New York: Simon & Schuster. Ambrose, S. (1991). Nixon: Ruin and recovery, 1973–1990. New York: Simon & Schuster. American Enterprise Institute (AEI). (2001). A discussion with Karl Rove. Washington, DC: AEI, December 11. http://www.aei.org/past_event/conf 011211.htm. American Psychiatric Association. (1994). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (4th ed). Washington, DC: Author. Anonymous. (2000). Personal interview with author, March 16. Name withheld upon request. Apple, R. W., Jr. (2001). After the attacks: Assessment; President seems to gain legitimacy. New York Times, September 16, A6. Associated Press. (1999). Gore urges $2 billion park efforts. Washington Post, November 15, A2. Associated Press. (2000a). Report: Gore won popular vote by 539,987. Washington Post, December 21, A9. Associated Press. (2000b). Gore campaign is distracted by flap over family drug costs. Wall Street Journal, September 20, A15. Azar, E. E., Cohen, S., Jukam, T., & McCormick, J. (1972). The problem of source coverage in the use of international events data. International Studies Quarterly, 16, 373–88. Baker, D. P. (1998). Md.’s last GOP governor was helped by divided Democrats. Washington Post, October 30, B5. Baker-Brown, G., Ballard, E. J., Bluck, S., de Vries, B., Suedfeld, P., & Tetlock, P. E. (1992). The conceptual/integrative complexity scoring manual. In C. P. Smith (Ed.), Motivation and personality: Handbook of thematic content analysis (pp. 401–18). New York: Cambridge University Press. Barber, J. D. (1965). The lawmakers. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Barber, J. D. (1992). The presidential character: Predicting performance in the White House (4th ed.) Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall. [Original work published in 1972.] Barnes, F. (2000). Call it the flyover party. The Weekly Standard, December 4, 17– 18. Barone, M. (1996). The rise and fall of Spiro Agnew. U.S. News & World Report, September 30, 28. Barrick, M. R., & Mount, M. K. (1991). The big five personality dimensions and job performance: A meta-analysis. Personnel Psychology, 44, 1–26. Bass, B. M. (1985). Leadership and performance beyond expectation. New York: Free Press. Beard, C. A. (1935). The presidents in American history. Reprint, New York: Julian Messner, 1965. Beloff, H. (1989). A tradition of threatened identities. In J. Harbison (Ed.), Growing up in Northern Ireland (pp. 182–93). Belfast: Stranmillis College, Learning Resources Unit.

References

235

Bem, D. J. (1967). Self-perception: An alternate interpretation of cognitive phenomena. Psychological Review, 74, 183–200. Bennett, W. L. (1988). The uncivic culture: Communication, identity, and the rise of lifestyle politics. PS: Political Science and Politics, 4, 741–61. Bennett, W. L. (1995). The cueless public: Bill Clinton meets the new American voter in campaign ’92. In S. A. Renshon (Ed.), The Clinton presidency: Campaigning, governing, and the psychology of leadership (pp. 91–112). Boulder, CO: Westview Press. Bennis, W., & Heenan, D. A. (1999). Co-leaders: The power of great partnerships. New York: John Wiley & Sons. Ben-Zvi, A. (1976–1977). Misperceiving the role of perception: A critique. Jerusalem Journal of International Relations, 11, 74–93. Berke, R. E. (2001). A nation challenged: The president; Jokes remain, but many say Bush is showing signs of war’s burden. New York Times, December 9, B7. Beschloss, M. (2001). Bush faces the greatest test. New York Times, September 17, A15. Bew, P., & Gillespie, G. (1999). Northern Ireland: A chronology of the troubles 1968– 1999. Dublin: Gill & Macmillan. Blair, J., & Blair, C. (1976). The search for JFK. New York: G. P. Putnam. Blight, J. G. (1990). The shattered crystal ball. Savage, MD: Rowman & Littlefield. Blight, J. G. (Ed.). (1987–1988). October 27, 1962: Transcripts of the meetings of the Excomm. (M. Bundy, transcriber). International Security, 12, 30–92. Blumer, J. G., & Kavanaugh, D. (1988). A third age of political communications: Where is it heading? Paper presented to the Roundtable on Seeking Responsibilities for Political Communication, London. Boorstin, D. (1987/1961). The image. New York: Vintage. Borger, G. (1990). Mitchell clears the air: the Senate’s top Democrat finally consolidates his power. U.S. News & World Report, September 4, 28. Botwin, M. D. (1995). Review of the NEO Personality Inventory–Revised. In J. C. Conoley & J. C. Impara (Eds.), The twelfth mental measurements yearbook (pp. 862–63). Lincoln, NE: Buros Institute of Mental Measurement. Boulding, K. E. (1969). National images and international systems. In J. Rosenau (Ed.), International politics and foreign policy (pp. 422–31). New York: Free Press. Broder, D. S. (2001a). Now comes the hard part. Washington Post, September 2, B7. Broder, D. S. (2001b). A new reality for George W. Bush. Washington Post, September 13, A31. Brodin, K. (1972). Belief systems, doctrines, and foreign policy. Cooperation and Conflict, 7, 97–112. Brooks, D. (2000). An emerging democratic majority? The Weekly Standard, December 26, 26–29. Browning, R. P. (1968). The interaction of personality and political system in decisions to run for office: Some data and a simulation technique. Journal of Social Issues, 24, 93–109. Bruni, F. (2000). Campaign notebook: A wistful Bush reflects on hearth and home. New York Times, January 28, A23.

236

References

Buckley, W. F., Jr. (1972). Inveighing we will go. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons. Bull, H. (1977). The anarchical society: A study of order in world politics. New York: Columbia University Press. Burgess, P. M., & Lawton, R. W. (1972). Indicators of international behavior: An assessment of events data research. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Burka, P. (1999). The W. nobody knows: What he’s like in real life. Texas Monthly, June, 114–15, 135–37. Burke, J. P., & Greenstein, F. I. [with the collaboration of L. Berman & R. Immerman]. (1989). How presidents test reality: Decisions on Vietnam, 1954– 1965. New York: Russell Sage Foundation. Burner, D. (1988). John F. Kennedy. Boston: Little, Brown. Burns, J. M. (1956). Roosevelt: The lion and the fox. New York: Harcourt, Brace. Burns, J. M. (1959). John F. Kennedy: A political profile. New York: Avon Books. Burns, J. M. (1978). Leadership. New York: Harper & Row. Burrows, R. (1974). Mirror, mirror on the wall . . . : A comparison of event data sources. In J. Rosenau (Ed.), Comparing foreign policy (pp. 383–406). New York: John Wiley & Sons. Bush, G. W. (1999). George W. Bush: A charge to keep. New York: William Morrow. Calder, B. J., & Ross, M. (1973). Attitudes and behavior. Morristown, NJ: General Learning Press. Callcott, G. H. (1985). Maryland and America, 1940–1980. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press. Campbell, A. ( l995). The baboons of Kenya. University of Chicago Magazine, 87, 31–35. Campbell, J. P. (1996). Group differences and personnel decisions: Validity, fairness, and affirmative action. Journal of Vocational Behavior, 49, 122–58. Carter, D. T. (1996). From George Wallace to Newt Gingrich: Race in the conservative counterrevolution, 1963–1994. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press. Carter, J. (1975). Why not the best? Nashville, TN: Broadman Press. Cash, J. D. (1989). Ideology and affect: The case of Northern Ireland. Political Psychology, 10, 703–25. Chapin, D. (1969). Haldeman handwriting on memo from Chapin to Haldeman and Ehrlichman. Nixon Papers. National Archives, College Park, MD. Executive SO 3 ST 7G 38. February 6. Chester, L., Hodgson, G., & Page, B. (1969). An American melodrama: The presidential campaign of 1968. New York: Viking Press. Clay, L. (1964). Oral history. Boston: John F. Kennedy Library. Clifford, C. (1991). Counsel to the president: A memoir. New York: Random House. Clymer, A. (2000). GOP clings to control, but Democrats gain in both chambers. New York Times, November 8, A1. Cohen, J. (1988). Statistical power analysis for the behavioral sciences (2nd ed.). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Cole, K. (1971). Memorandum from Cole to Ehrlichman. Nixon Papers. National Archives, College Park, MD. Executive FG 38 WE FG6–11–1. August 23. Coleman, J. S. (1987). Norms as social capital. In G. Radninsky and P. Bernholtz (Eds.), Economic imperialism: Economic method applied to fields outside of economics (pp. 133–55). New York: Paragon House.

References

237

Coleman, J. S. (1988). Social capital and the creation of human capital. American Journal of Sociology, 94, S95–S120. Coleman, J. S. (1990). Foundations of social theory. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Colloff, P. (1999). The son rises: How growing up in West Texas made him different from his dad. Texas Monthly, June, 105–6, 140–42. Comrey, A. L. (1973). A first course in factor analysis. New York: Academic Press. Congress and the Nation, vol. 2 (1969). Washington, DC: The Congressional Quarterly. Connolly, C. (1999). “New” Gore bears striking resemblance to “88”s. Washington Post, December 11, A8. Connolly, C. (2000a). Analysis: Finance plan may reform Gore’s image. Washington Post, March 28, A6. Connolly, C. (2000b). “Real people” advise Gore to stay loose. Washington Post, October 2, A10. Converse, P. E. (1964). The nature of belief systems in mass publics. In D. Apter (Ed.), Ideology and discontent (pp. 206–61). New York: Free Press. Conway, J. M., & Huffcutt, A. I. (1997). Psychometric properties of multisource performance ratings: A meta-analysis of subordinate, supervisor, peer, and self-ratings. Human Performance, 10, 331–60. Cook, T. D., & Reichardt, C. S. (Eds.). (1979). Qualitative and quantitative methods in evaluation research. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Cooper, C. L. (1970). The lost crusade: America in Vietnam. Greenwich, CT: Dodd, Mead. Cooper, H. (2001). New trade representative faces an old obstacle: Fast-track fight. Wall Street Journal, April 6. Costa, P. T., Jr., & McCrae, R. (1992). The revised NEO personality inventory professional manual. Odessa, FL: Psychological Assessment Resources, Inc. Crichlow, S. (1998). Idealism or pragmatism? An operational code analysis of Yitzhak Rabin and Shimon Peres. Political Psychology, 19, 683–706. Crick, F. (1988). What mad pursuit. New York: Basic Books. Cummings, J., & King, N., Jr. (2001). Military response by U.S. is broader than plan originally proposed to Bush. Wall Street Journal, October 8. Damgard, J. (2000). Personal interview with author, June 5. Darby, J. (1997). Scorpions in a bottle: Conflicting cultures in Northern Ireland. London: Minority Rights. De Landtsheer, C., van der Schaaf, W., & Immelman, A. (2002). Het persoonlijkheidsprofiel van Paars II (Kok, Borst en Jorritsma) volgens de Nederlandse media [The psychological profile of Paars II (Kok, Borst, and Jorritsma) inferred from the Dutch media]. Manuscript submitted for publication. The Amsterdam School of Communications Research, ASCoR. Dewar, H., & Skrzycki, C. (2001). Workplace health initiative rejected: Senate acts to kill ergonomics rule. Washington Post, March 7, A1. Dickerson, N. (1976). Among those present. New York: Random House. Digman, J. M. (1997). Higher order factors of the big five. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 73, 1246–56. DiMaggio, P., Evans, J., & Bryson, B. (1996). Have Americans’ social attitudes become more polarized? American Journal of Sociology, 102, 444–96.

238

References

Donley, R. E., & Winter, D. G. (1970). Measuring the motives of public officials at a distance: An exploratory study of American presidents. Behavioral Science, 15, 227–36. Dreazen, Y. J. (2000). Voter turnout remains low, despite ad barrage, close race. Wall Street Journal, November 9, A18. Drew, E. (1994). On the edge: The Clinton presidency. New York: Simon & Schuster. Eagly, A. H., & Chaiken, C. (1993). The psychology of attitudes. Dallas: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. Eckstein, H. (1975). Case study and theory in political science. In F. Greenstein & P. Nelson (Eds.), The handbook of political science: Strategies of inquiry, vol. 7 (pp. 79–137). Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley. Edinger, L. J. (1965). Kurt Schumacher: A study in personality and political behavior. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Ehrlichman, J. (1982). Witness to power. New York: Simon & Schuster. Eilperin, J. (2000). GOP gains in house after concession. Washington Post, December 13, A5. Eisenhower, D. D. (1967). Columbia University Oral History Interview, July 20. Ellingson, J. E., Sackett, P. R., & Hough, L. M. (1999). Social desirability correction in personality measurement: Issues of applicant comparison and construct validity. Journal of Applied Psychology, 84, 155–66. Erikson, E. H. (1958). Young man Luther: A study in psychoanalysis and history. New York: W.W. Norton. Erikson, E. H. (1969). Gandhi’s truth: On the origins of militant nonviolence. New York: W.W. Norton. Erlandson, D. A. et al. (1993). Doing naturalistic inquiry: A guide to methods. Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Etheredge, L. S. (1978). Personality effects on American foreign policy, 1898–1968: A test of interpersonal generalization theory. American Political Science Review, 72, 434–51. Etheredge, L. S. (1985). Can government learn? American foreign policy and central American revolutions. New York: Pergamon Press. Fairlie, H. (1974). The Kennedy promise. New York: Doubleday Falkowski, L. S. (Ed.). (1979). Psychological models in international politics. Boulder, CO: Westview Press. Farney, D. (2000). Gore gains ground in Missouri, partly due to convention kiss. Wall Street Journal, August 25, A20. Fenichel, O. (1945). The psychoanalytic theory of neurosis. New York: W.W. Norton. Festinger, L. (1957). A theory of cognitive dissonance. Evanston, IL: Row-Peterson. Fiedler, F. E. (1967). A theory of leadership effectiveness. New York: McGraw-Hill. Fineman, H. (2001a). End of innocence: Can Bush lead America through this nightmare? Newsweek, September 11, web exclusive: http://msnbc.com/ news/627131.asp?cp1⫽1#BODY. Fineman, H. (2001b). A president faces the test of a lifetime. Newsweek, September 13. http://www.msnbc.com/news/627893.asp?0sp⫽w12b2. Finn, G.P.T. (1997). Qualitative analysis of murals in Northern Ireland: Paramilitary justifications for political violence. In N. Hayes (Ed.), Doing qualitative analysis in psychology (pp. 143–78). East Sussex, UK: Psychology Press. Fiske, S. T., & Taylor, S. E. (1991). Social cognition. New York: McGraw-Hill.

References

239

Frances, A. J., Widiger, T. A., & Sabshin, M. (1991). Psychiatric diagnosis and normality. In D. Offer & M. Sabshin (Eds.), The diversity of normal behavior: Further contributions to normatology (pp. 3–38). New York: Basic Books. Freud, S. (1920/1974). Group psychology and the analysis of the ego. In J. Strachey (Ed. & trans.), The standard edition of the complete psychological works of Sigmund Freud, vol. 18 (pp. 69–143). London: Hogarth Press. Freud, S. (1964). The question of a weltanschauung. In J. Strachey (Ed. & trans.), The standard edition of the complete psychological works of Sigmund Freud, vol. 22 (pp. 158–82). London: Hogarth Press. Fruchter, B. (1954). Introduction to factor analysis. Princeton, NJ: Van Nostrand. Gallagher, A. M. (1986). Identity and ideology in social conflict: The case of Northern Ireland. Unpublished doctoral thesis, Queen’s University, Belfast. Gallagher, M. B. (1969). My life with Jacqueline Kennedy. New York: David McKay. Gardner, H. (1983). Frames of mind: The theory of multiple intelligences. New York: Basic Books. Garrison, J. A. (1999). Games advisors play: Foreign policy in the Nixon and Carter administrations. College Station: Texas A & M University Press. Garthoff, R. (1989). Reflections on the Cuban missile crisis. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution. George, A. L. (1959). Quantitative and qualitative approaches to content analysis. In I. S. Poll (Ed.), Trends in content analysis (pp. 7–32). Urbana: University of Illinois Press. George, A. L. (1969). The operational code: A neglected approach to the study of political leaders and decision making. International Studies Quarterly, 13, 190–222. George, A. L. (1979a). The causal nexus between cognitive beliefs and decisionmaking behavior: The “operational code” belief system. In L. Falkowski (Ed.), Psychological models in international politics (pp. 95–124). Boulder, CO: Westview Press. George, A. L. (1979b). Case studies and theory development: The method of structured, focused comparison. In P. G. Lauren (Ed.), Diplomacy: New approaches in history, theory and policy (pp. 43–68). New York: Free Press. George, A. L. (1980). Presidential decisionmaking in foreign policy: The effective use of information and advice. Boulder, CO: Westview Press. George, A. L. (1986). Power and a compensatory value. In B. Kellerman (Ed.), Political leadership (pp. 70–91). Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press. George, A. L., & George, J. L. (1956). Woodrow Wilson and Colonel House: A personality study. New York: John Day Co. George, A. L., & George, J. L. (1998). Presidential personality and performance. Boulder, CO: Westview Press. George, A. L., and McKeown, T. (1985). Case studies and theories of organizational decision-making. Advances in Information Processing in Organizations, 2, 21–58. Gergen, D. R., & Abshire, D. M. (2000). Quoted in Dialogues on presidential leadership. Washington, DC: Center for the Study of the Presidency. Gibson, B. (1986). Life with Rose Kennedy. New York: Warner Books.

240

References

Gilbert, R. E. (1982). John F. Kennedy and civil rights for black Americans. Presidential Studies Quarterly, 12, 386–99. Gilbert, R. E. (1998). The mortal presidency: Illness and anguish in the White House. New York: Fordham University Press. Glad, B. (1966). Charles Evans Hughes and the illusions of innocence: A study in American diplomacy. Urbana: University of Illinois Press. Glad, B. (1969). Personality and role performance: A comparison of Fulbright and Borah as chairmen of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Political Science Association, New York. Glad, B. (1973). Contributions of psychobiography. In J. N. Knutson (Ed.), Handbook of political psychology (pp. 296–321). San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Glad, B. (1979). Jimmy Carter: Maestro of the Camp David Accord. Carter presidency conference, Jimmy Carter Library, February. Glad, B. (1980). Jimmy Carter: In search of the great White House. New York: W.W. Norton. Glad, B. (1986). Key Pittman: Tragedy of a Senate insider. New York: Columbia University Press. Glad, B. (1989). Personality, political and group process variables in foreign policy decision-making: Jimmy Carter’s handling of the Iranian hostage crisis. International Political Science Review, 10, 35–61. Glad, B. (1990). Limited war and learning: The American experience. In B. Glad (Ed.), The psychological dimensions of war (pp. 264–73). Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Glad, B. (1991). Political psychology: Where have we been? Where are we going? In W. Crotty (Ed.), Political science: Looking to the future—political behavior, vol. 3 (pp. 153–91). Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press. Glad, B. (1996). Passing the baton: Transformational political leadership from Gorbachev to Yeltsin; from de Klerk to Mandela. Political Psychology, 17, 1–28. Glad, B. (1998). The psychological history of the tyrant. Distinguished Lecturer Series, International Society for Political Psychology, Montreal, July. Glad, B., & Blanton, R. (1997). From de Klerk to Mandela: Transformational changes in South Africa. Presidential Studies Quarterly, 27, 565–90. Glad, B., & Link, M. (1996). President Nixon’s inner circle of advisers. Presidential Studies Quarterly, 26, 13–40. Glad, B., & Shiraev, E. (1999a). A profile of Mikhail Gorbachev: Psychological and sociological underpinnings. In B. Glad & E. Shiraev (Eds.), The Russian transformation: Political, sociological, and psychological aspects (pp. 23–52). New York: St. Martin’s Press. Glad, B., & Shiraev, E. (1999b). The reformer in office. In B. Glad & E. Shiraev (Eds.), The Russian transformation: Political, sociological, and psychological aspects (pp. 3–22). New York: St. Martin’s Press. Glad, B., & Taber, C. (1990). Images, learning, and the decision to use force: The domino theory of the United States. In B. Glad (Ed.), The psychological dimensions of war (pp. 56–81). Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Gleick, J. (1988). Chaos: Making a new science. New York: Penguin Books.

References

241

Goertzel, M. G., Goertzel, V., & Goertzel, T. G. (1978). Three hundred eminent personalities. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Gold, V. (1996). Cited in Lance Morrow, Naysayer to the nattering nabobs. Time, September 30, 36. Goldberg, L. R. (1990). An alternative “description of personality”: The Big Five factor structure. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 59, 1215–29. Goleman, D. (1995). Emotional intelligence. New York: Bantam Books. Goodwin, D. K. (1976). Lyndon Johnson and the American dream. New York: Harper & Row. Gottfredson, L. (1997). Why matters: The complexity of everyday life. Intelligence, 24, 79–132. Gottfried, A. (1962). Boss Cermak of Chicago. Seattle: University of Washington Press. Gough, H. G., & Heilbrun, A. B. (1983). The adjective checklist manual. Palo Alto, CA: Consulting Psychologists Press. Gould, J. S. (1989). Wonderful life: The Burgess Shale and the nature of history. New York: W.W. Norton. Greene, J. R. (1997). “I’ll continue to speak out”: Spiro T. Agnew as vicepresident. In T. Walch (Ed.), At the president’s side: The vice-presidency in the twentieth century (pp. 124–32). Columbia: University of Missouri Press. Greenleaf, R. K. (1991). The servant as leader. Indianapolis, IN: Greenleaf Center for Servant Leadership. Greenstein, F. I. (1969). Personality and politics: Problems of evidence, inference, and conceptualization. Chicago: Markham. Greenstein, F. I. (1982). The hidden-hand presidency: Eisenhower as leader. New York: Basic Books. Greenstein, F. I. (1992). Can personality and politics be studied systematically? Political Psychology, 13, 105–28. Greenstein, F. I. (2000). The presidential difference: Leadership style from FDR to Clinton. New York: Free Press. Haldeman, H. R. (1970a). Memo to Nixon. Nixon Papers. National Archives, College Park, MD. Author’s possession. December 1. Haldeman, H. R. (1970b). Memo to Nixon. Nixon Papers. National Archives, College Park, MD. Author’s possession. July 9. Haldeman, H. R. (1978). The ends of power. New York: Times Books. Hamby, A. L. (1985). Liberalism and its challengers: From FDR to Bush. Reprint, New York: Columbia University Press, 1992. Harper, J. (2001). Some in media can’t stop criticizing Bush. The Washington Times, September 15. Harris, J. (2000). Clinton never liked the media, but don’t ask him why. Washington Post, December 31, B1. Harris, J. F., & Allen, M. (2000). Democrats sketch shapes of prospective presidencies. Bradley envisions a cleansing, Gore a big agenda. Washington Post, January 4, A1. Hart, J. (1987). The presidential branch. New York: Pergamon. Hart, P. K. (1999). Not so great in ’78: The lessons he learned in his one and only losing campaign. Texas Monthly, June, 110–11, 139.

242

References

Hermann, C. F., East, M. A., Hermann, M. G., Salmore, B. G., & and Salmore, S. A. (1973). CREON: A foreign events data set. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Hermann, M. G. (1979). Who becomes a political leader? Some societal and regime influences on selection of a head of state. In L. S. Falkowski (Ed.), Psychological models in international politics (pp. 15–48). Boulder, CO: Westview Press. Hermann, M. G. (1980a). Assessing the personalities of Soviet Politburo members. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 6, 332–52. Hermann, M. G. (1980b). Explaining foreign policy behavior using personal characteristics of political leaders. International Studies Quarterly, 24, 7–46. Hermann, M. G. (1983). Assessing personality at a distance: A portrait of Ronald Reagan. Mershon Center Quarterly Report, 7(6). Columbus, OH: Mershon Center, Ohio State University. Hermann, M. G. (1984). Personality and foreign policy decision making: A study of 53 heads of government. In D. A. Sylvan & S. Chan (Eds.), Foreign policy decision-making: Perceptions, cognition, and artificial intelligence (pp. 53–80). New York: Praeger. Hermann, M. G. (1987a). Assessing the foreign policy role orientations of subSaharan African leaders. In S. G. Walker (Ed.), Role theory and foreign policy analysis (pp. 161–98). Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Hermann, M. G. (1987b). Handbook for assessing personal characteristics and foreign policy orientations of political leaders. Columbus, OH: Mershon Center, Ohio State University. Hess, A. K. (1992). Review of the NEO Personality Inventory–Revised. In J. J. Kramer & J. C. Conoley (Eds.), The eleventh mental measurements yearbook (pp. 603–5). Lincoln, NE: Buros Institute of Mental Measurement. Hess, S. (1988). Organizing the presidency. Washington, DC: The Brookings Institution. Hilsman, R. (1967). To move a nation. New York: Doubleday. Hilsman, R. (1996). The Cuban missile crisis. Westport, CT: Praeger. Himmelfarb, G. (1999). One nation, two cultures. New York: Knopf. Himmelfarb, G. (2001). Two nations or two cultures? Commentary, January, 29– 30. Hodgson, G. (1996). The world turned right side up: A history of the conservative ascendancy in America. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. Hofstee, W.K.B., & Hendriks, A.A.J. (1998). The use of scores anchored at the scale midpoint in reporting people’s traits. European Journal of Personality, 12, 219–28. Hollander, E. R. (1964). Leaders, groups, and influences. New York: Oxford University Press. Hollandsworth, S. (1999). Younger, wilder? He lived it up for a while—but maybe not as much as we think. Texas Monthly, June, 108–10, 143. Holsti, O. R. (1967). Cognitive dynamics and images of the enemy: Dulles and Russia: In D. J. Finlay, O. R. Holsti, & R. R. Fagen (Eds.), Enemies in politics (pp. 25–97). Chicago: Rand McNally. Holsti, O. R. (1969). Content analysis for the social sciences and humanities. Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley. Holsti, O. R. (1977). Foreign policy decision-makers viewed psychologically: Cog-

References

243

nitive processes approaches. In G. M. Bonham & M. J. Shapiro (Eds.), Thought and action in foreign policy (pp. 10–74). Basek and Stuttgart: Birkhauser Verlag. Holsti, O. R. (1990). Crisis management. In B. Glad (Ed.), The psychological dimensions of war (pp. 116–42). Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Horney, K. (1937). The neurotic personality of our time. New York: W.W. Norton. Horney, K. (1950). Neuroses and human growth. New York: W.W. Norton. Hough, L. M. (1998). Effects of intentional distortion in personality measurement and evaluation of suggested palliatives. Human Performance, 11, 209–44. Hough, L. M., Eaton, N. K., Dunnette, M. D., Kamp, J. D., & McCloy, R. A. (1990). Criterion-related validities of personality constructs and the effect of response distortion on those validities. Journal of Applied Psychology, 75, 581– 95. House, R. J., Spangler, W. D., & Woycke, J. (1991). Personality and charisma in the US presidency: A psychological theory of leader effectiveness. Administrative Science Quarterly, 36, 364–66. Howell, L. (1983). A comparative study of the WEISS and COPDAB data sets. International Studies Quarterly, 27, 149–59. Hunt, A. (2001). An army of opposition to disability rights. Wall Street Journal, March 15. Immelman, A. (1993a). The assessment of political personality: A psychodiagnostically relevant conceptualization and methodology. Political Psychology, 14, 725–41. Immelman, A. (1993b). A Millon-based study of political personality: Nelson Mandela and F. W. de Klerk. Paper presented at the Sixteenth Annual Scientific Meeting of the International Society of Political Psychology, Cambridge, MA, July. Immelman, A. (1994). South Africa in transition: The influence of the political personalities of Nelson Mandela and F. W. de Klerk. Paper presented at the Seventeenth Annual Scientific Meeting of the International Society of Political Psychology, Santiago de Compostela, Spain, July. Immelman, A. (1998). The political personalities of 1996 U.S. presidential candidates Bill Clinton and Bob Dole. Leadership Quarterly, 9, 335–66. Immelman, A. (1999). Millon inventory of diagnostic criteria manual (2nd ed.). Unpublished manuscript, St. John’s University, Collegeville, MN. Immelman, A., & Steinberg, B. S. (Comps.) (1999). Millon inventory of diagnostic criteria (2nd ed.). Unpublished research scale, St. John’s University, Collegeville, MN. Israel, F. (1967). The State of the Union messages of the presidents, 1790–1966, vol 3. New York: Chelsea House. James, C. (2000). When a kiss isn’t just a kiss. New York Times, August 20, C10. Janis, I. L. (1983). Groupthink: A psychological study of foreign policy decisions and fiascos (2nd ed.). New York: Houghton Mifflin. Janis, I. L. (1989). Crucial decisions: Leadership in policymaking and crisis managment. New York: The Free Press. Jehl, D. (2001). White House considering plan to void Clinton rule on forests. New York Times, May 2, A16.

244

References

Jervis, R. (1970). The logic of images in international relations. Princeton NJ: Princeton University Press. Jervis, R. (1976). Perception and misperception in international politics. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Johnson, R. T. (1974). Managing the White House. New York: Harper & Row. Journal of Personality. (1988). 56 (March). Judis, J. B. (2000). For richer and poorer: How George McGovern won election 2000 for the Dems. New Republic, December 4, 18–19. Juni, S. (1995). Review of the NEO Personality Inventory-Revised. In J. C. Conoley & J. C. Impara (Eds.), The twelfth mental measurements yearbook (pp. 863–67). Lincoln, NE: Buros Institute of Mental Measurement. Kegley, C. W., Jr. (1975). Introduction: The generation and use of events data. In C. W. Kegley, G. A. Raymond, R. M. Rood, & R. A. Skinner (Eds.), International events and the comparative analysis of foreign policy (pp. 91–105). Columbia: University of South Carolina Press. Kellerman, B. (1986). Political leadership: A source book. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press. Kellerman, B., & Rubin, J. Z. (1988). Leadership and negotiation in the Middle East. New York: Praeger. Kengor, P. (1998). Comparing presidents Reagan and Eisenhower. Presidential Studies Quarterly, 28, 366–93. Kennedy, D. (2000). Note to Gore: Sarasota High School is not a sob story. Wall Street Journal, October 6. Kennedy, R. (1974). Times to remember. New York: Doubleday. Kernell, S. (1993). Going public. Washington, DC: Congressional Quarterly Press. Kershaw, I. (1998). Hitler 1889–1936: Hubris. New York: W.W. Norton. Kets de Vries, M., & Miller, D. (1984). The neurotic organization. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Khong, Y. F. (1992). Analogies at war: Korea, Munick, Dien Bien Phu, and the Vietnam decisions of 1965. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. King, A. (1993). Foundations of power. In G. C. Edwards III, J. H. Kessel, & B. A. Rockman (Eds.), Researching the presidency: Vital questions, new approaches (pp. 415–51). Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press. King, G. (1993). The methodology of presidential research. In G. C. Edwards III, J. H. Kessel, & B. A. Rockman (Eds.), Researching the presidency: Vital questions, new approaches (pp. 387–412). Pittsburgh, University of Pittsburgh Press. Kingdon, J. W. (1984). Agendas, alternatives and public policies. Boston: Little, Brown. Kitts, K., & Glad, B. ( 1993). Improvisational decision-making: Eisenhower and the 1956 Hungarian crisis. In S. A. Warshaw (Ed.), Reexamining the Eisenhower presidency (pp. 183–208). Westport, CT: Greenwood Press. Knox, C. (1994). Conflict resolution at the microlevel: Community relations in Northern Ireland. Conflict Resolution, 38, 595–619. Kohut, H. (1977). The restoration of the self. New York: International Universities Press. Kowert, P. A. (1996). Where does the buck stop? Assessing the impact of presidential personality. Political Psychology, 17, 421–52.

References

245

Kriesberg, L. (1996). Varieties of mediating activities and mediators in international relations. In J. Bercovitch (Ed.), Resolving international conflicts: The theory and practice of mediation (pp. 219–33). Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner. Krippendorff, K. (1980). Content analysis: An introduction to its methodology. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Kristof, N. D. (2000). Political memo: Rival makes Bush better campaigner. New York Times, March 3, A23. Kuhn, T. S. (1970). The structure of scientific revolutions (2nd ed.). Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Kupchan, C. A. (1994). The vulnerability of empire. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Ladd, E. C. (1999). The Ladd report. New York: Free Press. Lane, R. E. (1978). Interpersonal relationships and leadership in a “cold” society. Comparative Politics, 2, 443–60. Langston, T. S. (1992). Ideologues and presidents: From the New Deal to the Reagan revolution. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press. Lapid, Y. (1989). The third debate: On the prospects of international theory in a post-positivist era. International Studies Quarterly, 33, 235–54. Laplanche, J., & Pontalis, J. (1973). The language of psychoanalysis. London: Hogarth Press. Larson, D. W. (1985). Origins of containment: A psychological explanation. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Lasswell, H. D. (1930). Psychopathology and politics. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Lasswell, H. D. (1950). Democratic character. In The political writings of Harold D. Lasswell. Glencoe, IL: Free Press. Lasswell, H. D. (1959). Political constitution and character. Psychoanalysis and the Psychoanalytic Review, 46, 3–18. Lavallee, L., & Suedfeld, P. (1997). Conflict in Clayoquot Sound: Using thematic content analysis to understand psychological aspects of environmental controversy. Canadian Journal of Behavioural Science, 29, 194–209. Lebow, R. N. (1981). Between peace and war: The nature of international crisis. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press. Lemann, N. (2001). The Iraq factor. The New Yorker, January 22, 34–38. Levinson, H., & Rosenthal, S. (1984). CEO: Corporate leadership in action. New York: Basic Books. Levy, C. J. (2000). The ad campaign: Making breast cancer a political issue against McCain. New York Times, March 4, A1. Lewin, R. (1986). Punctuated equilibrium is now old hat. Science, 231, 672–73. Lichtblau, E. (2001). Gun policy faces major Bush revamp. Los Angeles Times, July 26, A1. Light, P. C. (1984). Vice-presidential power: Advice and influence in the White House. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press. Lijphart, A. (1971). Comparative politics and comparative method. American Political Science Review, 65, 682–93. Link, M., & Glad, B. (1994). Personality and presidential advisory relations: A case study of the Carter administration. Political Psychology, 15, 461–80.

246

References

Lippman, T., Jr. (1972). Spiro Agnew’s America: The vice-president and the politics of suburbia. New York: W.W. Norton. Lyons, G. M. (1964). Review of Gottfried’s Boss Cermak. American Journal of Sociology, 68, 375–76. Machiavelli, N. (1966). The prince (with selections from the discourses) (Trans. & ed., D. Donno). New York: Bantam Books. [Original work published in 1513.] Manchester, W. (1967). Portrait of a president. Boston: Little, Brown. Maranell, G. (1970). The evaluation of presidents: An extension of the Schlesinger poll. Journal of American History, 57, 104–13. Marcus, G. E., & Rahn, W. (1990). Emotions and democratic politics. In S. Long (Ed.), Research in micropolitics (pp. 20–57). New York: JAI Press. Marder, M. (1978). Behind Carter’s Annapolis speech. Washington Post, June 11, 1. Marsh, R. (1971). Agnew, the unexamined man: A political profile. New York: M. Evans & Co. Marshall, B. (1964). Oral history. Boston: John F. Kennedy Library. Martin, R. G. (1983). A hero for our time. New York: Macmillan. Marvick, E. W. (1981). Favorites: A recurrent psychopolitical role. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the International Society of Political Psychology, Mannheim, West Germany, June. Mastors, E. (2000). Gerry Adams and the Northern Ireland peace process: A research note. Political Psychology, 21, 839–46. McCann, S.J.H. (1992). Alternative formulas to predict the greatness of U.S. presidents: Personological, situational, and zeitgeist factors. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 62, 469–79. McClelland, C. A. (1983). Let the user beware. International Studies Quarterly, 27, 169–77. McClelland, D. C. (1961). The achieving society. Princeton, NJ: Van Nostrand. McConahay, J. B. (1950). Certain personality factors of state legislators in South Carolina. American Political Science Review, 44, 897–903. McCormick, M. M. (1997). Avoidance strategies in Northern Ireland. In D. P. Fry & K. Bjorkqvist (Eds.), Cultural variation in conflict resolution: Alternatives to violence (pp. 105–13). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. McCrae, R. R. (1993). Agreement of personality profiles across observers. Multivariate Behavioral Research, 28, 25–40. McCrae, R. R. (1996). Social consequences of experiential openness. Psychological Bulletin, 120, 323–37. McCrae, R. R., & Costa, P. T., Jr. (1983). Social desirability scales: More substance than style. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 51, 882–88. Merriam-Webster’s collegiate dictionary (10th ed.). (1997). Springfield, MA: Merriam-Webster. Merk, F. (1967). The Oregon question: Essays in Anglo-American diplomacy and politics. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Milbank, D. (2001a). Crisis brings shift in presidential style. Washington Post, September 14, A1. Milbank, D. (2001b). White House staff switches gears: Response to attacks is

References

247

now focus of almost all presidential aides. Washington Post, September 17, A25. Milbank, D., & Graham, B. (2001). With crisis, more fluid style at White House; Faster decision-making has flip side: Confusion. Washington Post, October 10, A4. Millon, T. (1969). Modern psychopathology: A biosocial approach to maladaptive learning and functioning. Philadelphia: W. B. Saunders. Reprint, Prospect Heights, IL: Waveland Press, 1985. Millon, T. (1986a). A theoretical derivation of pathological personalities. In T. Millon & G. L. Klerman (Eds.), Contemporary directions in psychopathology: Toward the DSM-IV (pp. 639–69). New York: Guilford. Millon, T. (1986b). Personality prototypes and their diagnostic criteria. In T. Millon & G. L. Klerman (Eds.), Contemporary directions in psychopathology: Toward the DSM-IV (pp. 671–812). New York: Guilford. Millon, T. (1990). Toward a new personology: An evolutionary model. New York: John Wiley & Sons. Millon, T. (1991). Normality: What may we learn from evolutionary theory? In D. Offer & M. Sabshin (Eds.), The diversity of normal behavior: Further contributions to normatology (pp. 356–404). New York: Basic Books. Millon, T. [with L. G. Weiss, C. M. Millon, & R. D. Davis]. (1994a). Millon index of personality styles manual. San Antonio, TX: Psychological Corporation. Millon, T. (1994b). Personality disorders: Conceptual distinctions and classification issues. In P. T. Costa, Jr. & T. A. Widiger (Eds.), Personality disorders and the five-factor model of personality (pp. 279–301). Washington, DC: American Psychological Association. Millon, T. [with R. D. Davis]. (1996). Disorders of personality: DSM-IV and beyond (2nd ed.). New York: John Wiley & Sons. Millon, T., & Davis, R. D. (1998). Ten subtypes of psychopathy. In T. Millon, E. Simonsen, M. Birket-Smith, & R. D. Davis (Eds.), Psychopathy: Antisocial, criminal, and violent behavior (pp. 161–70). New York: Guilford. Millon, T., & Davis, R. D. (2000). Personality disorders in modern life. New York: John Wiley & Sons. Millon, T., & Everly, G. S., Jr. (1985). Personality and its disorders: A biosocial learning approach. New York: John Wiley & Sons. Minutaglio, B. (1999). First son: George W. Bush and the Bush family dynasty. New York: Random House/Times Books. Mitchell, E. (2000). W: Revenge of the Bush dynasty. New York: Hyperion. Moe, T. M. (1993). Presidents, institutions, and theory. In G. C. Edwards III, J. H. Kessel, & B. A. Rockman (Eds.), Researching the presidency: Vital questions, new approaches (pp. 337–85). Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press. Morin, R., & Deane, C. (2001). Poll: Americans’ trust in government grows: Confidence in government more than doubles since April 2000. Washington Post, September 28. Morris, R. B. (1967). Great presidential decisions: State papers that changed the course of history (rev. ed.). Philadelphia: Lippincott. Morrow, D., Birrell, D., Greer, J., & O’Keeffe, T. (1994). The churches and intercommunity relationships. Coleraine, Northern Ireland: Centre for the Study of Conflict, University of Ulster.

248

References

Morton, L. (1964). Review of Rogow’s James Forrestal. American Historical Review, 69, 1098–99. Mumford, L. (1963). The revolt of the demons. The New Yorker, May, 155–81. Murray, R. K., & Blessing, T. H. (1983). The presidential performance study: A progress report. Journal of American History, 70, 535–55. Nagourney, A., & Perez-Pena, R. (2000). In New York, a sharp attack awaits McCain. New York Times, March 2, A1. Neustadt, R. E. (1960). Presidential power: The politics of leadership. New York: John Wiley & Sons. [Final printing entitled Presidential power and the modern presidency: The politics of leadership from Roosevelt to Reagan. New York: Free Press, 1990.] New York Times Editorial. (2001a). Demands of leadership. New York Times, September 13, A26. New York Times Editorial. (2001b). Mr. Bush’s new gravitas. New York Times, October 12, A24. Nisbett, R. E., & Ross, L. (1980). Human inference: Strategies and shortcomings in social judgement. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall. Nisbett, R. E., & Wilson, T. D. (1977). Telling more than we can know: Verbal reports on mental processes. Psychological Review, 84, 231–59. Nixon, R. M. (1962). Six crises. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Nixon, R. M. (1971). Nixon memo to Agnew. Nixon Papers. National Archives, College Park, MD. Ex FG 38 President of the Senate. Box 25, Folder 14. November 9. Nixon, R. M. (1978/1979). RN: The memoirs of Richard Nixon. New York: Grosset & Dunlap. Norris, P. (1996). Does television erode social capital? A reply to Putnam. PS: Political Science and Politics, 29, 474–80. O’Donnell, K. P., & Powers, D. F. (1976). Johnny, we hardly knew ye. Boston: Little, Brown. O’Duffy, B. (1995). Violence in Northern Ireland 1969–1994: Sectarian or ethnonational? Ethnic and Racial Studies, 18, 740–71. Oldham, J. M., & Morris, L. B. (1995). The new personality self-portrait (rev. ed.). New York: Bantam Books. Ones, D. S. (1993). The construct validity of integrity tests. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Iowa, Iowa City. Ones, D. S., Hough, L. M., & Viswesvaran, C. (2000). Personality predictors of performance for managers and executives. Paper presented in a symposium conducted at the annual conference of the American Psychological Association, Washington, DC, August. Ones, D. S., Mount, M. K., Barrick, M. R., & Hunter, J. E. (1994). Personality and job performance: A critique of the Tett, Jackson, and Rothstein (1991) metaanalysis. Personnel Psychology, 47, 147–56. Ones, D. S., & Viswesvaran, C. (1996). Bandwidth-fidelity dilemma in personality measurement for personnel selection. Journal of Organizational Behavior, 17, 209–26. Ones, D. S., & Viswesvaran, C. (1998). The effects of social desirability and faking on personality and integrity assessment for personnel selection. Human Performance, 11, 245–71.

References

249

Ones, D. S., & Viswesvaran, C. (in press). Integrity tests and other criterionfocused occupational personality scales (COPS) used in personnel selection. International Journal of Selection and Assessment. Ones, D. S., Viswesvaran, C., & Reiss, A. D. (1996). Role of social desirability in personality testing for personnel selection: The red herring. Journal of Applied Psychology, 81, 660–79. Ones, D. S., Viswesvaran, C., & Schmidt, F. L. (1993). Comprehensive metaanalysis of integrity test validities: Findings and implications for personnel selection and theories of job performance. Journal of Applied Psychology, 78, 679–703. Opportunity in Maryland. (1966) New York Times, October 12, 33. Osborne, J. (1970). The Nixon watch. New York: Liveright. Osgood, C. E. (1959). The representational model and relevant research methods. In I. S. Pool (Ed.), Trends in content analysis (pp. 33–88). Urbana: University of Illinois Press. Oudes, B. (Ed.). (1989). From: The president; Richard Nixon’s secret files. New York: Harper & Row. Pachter, H. M. (1964). Collision course. New York: Praeger. Paige, G. (Ed.). (1972). Political leadership: Readings for an emerging field. New York: Free Press. Parmet, H. S. (1980). Jack: The struggles of John F. Kennedy. New York: Dial Press. Parmet, H. S. (1990). Richard Nixon and his America. Boston: Little, Brown. Pasachoff, J. M. (1989). Contemporary astronomy. Philadelphia: Saunders. Patoski, J. N. (1999). Team player: How he ran the Texas Rangers and became, finally, a successful businessman. Texas Monthly, June, 113–14, 138–39. Pear, R. (2001). White House plans to revise new medical privacy rules. New York Times, April 8, A22. Personal Papers of John F. Kennedy (n.d.), Box 1, Childhood Years. Boston: John F. Kennedy Library. Pew Research Center for the People and Press. (1999). Technology triumphs, morality falters. July 13. www.people-press.org/mill1.htm (February 2, 2001). Pianin, E., & Mintz, J. (2001). Profits over health: EPA seeks to narrow pollution initiative: Utilities fight Clinton rules on coal-fired power plants. Washington Post, August 8, A1. Pious, R. M. (1978). The American presidency. New York: Basic Books. Pious, R. M. (1991). Prerogative power and the Reagan presidency: A review essay. Political Science Quarterly, 106, 499–510. Pool, I. S. (1959). Trends in content analysis. Urbana: University of Illinois Press. Popper, K. (1982). The open universe: An argument for indeterminism. Totowa, NY: Rowman & Littlefield. Porterfield, A. L. (1941). Creative factors in scientific research. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Public papers of the presidents of the United States. (1962). John F. Kennedy, 1961. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office. Public papers of the presidents of the United States. (1963). John F. Kennedy, 1962. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office. Public papers of the presidents of the United States. (1964). John F. Kennedy, 1963. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office.

250

References

Putnam, R. D. (1995). Bowling alone: America’s declining social capital. Journal of Democracy, 6, 65–78. Putnam, R. D. (2000). Bowling alone: The collapse and revival of American community. New York: Simon & Shuster. Pye, L. W. (1985). Asian power and politics: The cultural dimensions of authority. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Q-sort. (1978). Palo Alto, CA: Consulting Psychologists Press. Reedy, G. E. (1982). Lyndon B. Johnson, a memoir. New York: Andrews & McMeel. Renshon, S. A. (1993). Political psychology editor’s forum: How to select a good president. Political Psychology, 14, 527–54. Renshon, S. A. (1998a). High hopes: The Clinton presidency and the politics of ambition. New York: Routledge. Renshon, S. A. (1998b). The psychological assessment of presidential candidates. New York: Routledge. Renshon, S. A. (2000). Political leadership as social capital. Political Psychology, 21, 199–226. Renshon, S. A. (2001). Political leadership in a divided electorate: Assessing character issues in the 2000 presidential campaign. The John F. Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University. http://www.ksg.harvard.edu/ presspol/publications/pdfs/renshon2. PDF format. Ridings, W. J., Jr., & McIver, S. B. (1995). Presidential poll. Presidential Studies Quarterly, 25, 376–77. Ridings, W. J., Jr., & McIver, S. B. (1997). Rating the presidents. Secaucus, NJ: Carol Publishing Group. Riesman, D. (1950). The lonely crowd: A study of the changing American character. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Rogow, A. (1963). James Forrestal: A study of personality, politics and policy. New York: Macmillan. Romano, L. (1998). Son on the horizon: Gov. George Walker Bush is running hard. But is he heading in his father’s direction? Washington Post, September 24, B1ff. Romano, L., & Lardner, G., Jr. (1999a). 1986: A life-changing year. Washington Post, July 25, A1ff. Romano, L., & Lardner, G., Jr. (1999b). A Texas childhood. Washington Post, July 26, A1ff. Romano, L., & Lardner, G., Jr. (1999c). Following in his father’s path—step by step by step. Washington Post, July 27, A1ff. Romano, L., & Lardner, G., Jr. (1999d). At height of Vietnam, Bush picks guard. Washington Post, July 28, A1ff. Romano, L., & Lardner, G., Jr. (1999e). Young Bush, a political natural, revs up. Washington Post, July 29, A1ff. Romano, L., & Lardner, G., Jr. (1999f). Bush name helps fuel oil dealings. Washington Post, July 30, A1ff. Romano, L., & Lardner, G., Jr. (1999g). Bush moves up to the majors. Washington Post, July 31, A1ff. Rosati, J. A. (1981). Developing a systematic decision-making framework: Bureaucratic politics in perspective. World Politics, 33, 234–52. Rosati, J. A. (1984). The impact of beliefs on behavior: The foreign policy of the

References

251

Carter administration. In D. A. Sylvan & S. Chan (Eds.), Foreign policy decision making: Perception, cognition, and artificial intelligence (pp. 158–91). New York: Praeger. Rosati, J. A. (1987). The Carter administration’s quest for global community: Beliefs and their impact on behavior. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press. Rosati, J. A. (1990). Continuity and change in the foreign policy beliefs of political leaders: Addressing the controversy over the Carter administration. Political Psychology, 9, 471–505. Rosati, J. A. (1993). Jimmy Carter, a man before his time? The emergence and collapse of the first post–cold war presidency. Presidential Studies Quarterly, 23, 459–76. Rosati, J. A. (1995). A cognitive approach to the study of foreign policy. In L. Neack, J.A.K. Hey, & P. J. Haney (Eds.), Foreign policy analysis: Continuity and change in its second generation (pp. 49–70). Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall. Rosati, J. A. (2000). The power of human cognition in the study of world politics. International Studies Review, 2, 45–75. Rothstein, R. L. (1999). In fear of peace: Getting past maybe. In R. L. Rothstein (Ed.), After the peace: Resistance and reconciliation (pp. 1–25). Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner. Ruane, J., & Todd, J. (1997). The dynamics of conflict in Northern Ireland: Power, conflict and emancipation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Rubenzer, S. J., & Faschingbauer, T. R. (2002). Testing the presidents: Personality and character(s) among America’s leaders. Unpublished manuscript. Rubenzer, S. J., Faschingbauer, T. R., & Ones, D. S. (1999). Hierarchical item/scale interpretation: Getting the most from objective personality inventories and rating scales. Unpublished manuscript. Rubenzer, S. J., Faschingbauer, T., & Ones, D. S. (2000). Assessing the U.S. presidents using the NEO PI-R. Assessment, 7, 403–19. Rubenzer, S., Ones, D. S., & Faschingbauer, T. (2002). Personality and the presidency: Personality traits of US presidents. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Psychological Association, Washington DC, August. Rubin, J. Z., Pruitt, D. G., & Kim, S. H. (1994). Social conflict: Escalation, stalemate and settlement (2nd ed.). New York: McGraw-Hill. Runyan, W. M. (1982). Life histories and psychobiography: Explorations in theory and method. New York: Oxford University Press. Sack, K. (2000). Gore says he makes mistakes, but he does not exaggerate. New York Times, October 8, A20. Safilios-Rothchild, C. (1970). The sociology and social pathology of disability and rehabilitation. New York: Random House. Safire, W. (1980). Safire’s Washington. New York: Times Books. Salgado, J., Viswesvaran, C., & Ones, D. S. (in press). A look at predictors in work and organizational psychology: Individual differences, selection methods and techniques. In N. Anderson, D. S. Ones, H. Sinangil, & C. Viswesvaran (Eds.) Handbook of industrial, work and organizational psychology, vol. 1. London: Sage. Salinger, P. (1966). With Kennedy. Garden City, NY: Doubleday.

252

References

Sanger, D. E., & Bumiller, E. (2001). A nation challenged: The president; In one month, a presidency is transformed. New York Times, October 11, B1. Sanger, D. E., & Van Natta, D., Jr. (2001). After the attacks: The events; In four days, a national crisis changes Bush’s presidency. New York Times, September 16, A1. Sartori, G. (1970). Concept misinformation in comparative politics. American Political Science Review, 64, 1033–53. SAS Institute. (1995). JMP statistics and graphics guide, version 3.1 of JMP. Cary, NC: SAS Institute. Schlesinger, A., Jr. (1948). Historians rate the U.S. presidents. Life, 25, November 1, 65–66, 68, 73–74. Schlesinger, A., Jr. (1965). A thousand days: John F. Kennedy in the White House. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. Schlesinger, A., Jr. (1970). The amazing success story of “Spiro who?” New York Times Magazine, July 26, 55. Schlesinger, A., Jr. (1973). The imperial presidency. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. Schmidt, F. L., & Hunter, J. E. (1998). The validity and utility of selection methods in personnel psychology: Practical and theoretical implications of 85 years of research findings. Psychological Bulletin, 124, 262–74. Schmidt, F. L., Ones, D. S., & Hunter, J. E. (1992). Personnel selection. Annual Review of Psychology, 43, 627–70. Schmitt, D. P., & Winter, D. G. (1998). Measuring the motives of Soviet leadership and Soviet society: Congruence reflected or congruence created? Leadership Quarterly, 9, 293–307. Schmitt, E. (2001). Bush aides weigh legalizing status of Mexicans in U.S. New York Times, July 15, A1. Seelye, K. Q. (1999). Gore proposal would create $115 billion education fund. New York Times, December 16, A1. Seelye, K. Q. (2001). Ending logjam, U.S. reaches accord on endangered species. New York Times, August 30, A1. Seib, G. F. (2001). Attack hits Bush with severe test of his untested leadership skills. Wall Street Journal, September 12. Seligman, M. E. (1998). Learned optimism. New York: Simon & Schuster. Senate Committee on Commerce. (1961). Subcommittee of the Subcommittee, Report of the Committee on Commerce, The Speeches of Senator John F. Kennedy in the Presidential Campaign of 1960, 87th Congress, Report 994, Part 1. Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office. Sengupta, S. (2001). A nation challenged: Relations; September 11 attack narrows the racial divide. New York Times, October 10, B1. Shapiro, A. L. (1999). The control revolution: How the Internet is putting individuals in charge and changing the world we know. New York: BBS. Shapiro, D. (1965). Neurotic styles. New York: Basic Books. Shearer. L. (1982). Intelligence report: Pierpoint’s presidential report card. Parade: The Sunday Newspaper Magazine, January 17, 8. Shimko, K. L. (1991). Images and arms control: Perceptions of the Soviet Union in the Reagan administration. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press. Sick, G. (1985). All fall down: America’s tragic encounter with Iran. New York: Penguin.

References

253

Siegel, F. F. (1984). Troubled journey: From Pearl Harbor to Ronald Reagan. New York: Hill & Wang. Silk, J. (1979). The Big Bang. New York: W. H. Freeman. Simon, H. A. (1957). Administrative behavior. New York: Free Press. Simon, H. A. (1985). Human nature in politics: The dialogue of psychology with political science. American Political Science Review, 79, 293–304. Simonton, D. K. (1986a). Presidential personality: Biographical use of the Gough Adjective Check List. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 51, 149– 60. Simonton, D. K. (1986b). Biographical typicality, eminence, and achievement style. Journal of Creative Behavior, 20, 14–22. Simonton, D. K. (1987). Why presidents succeed: A political psychology of leadership. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Simonton, D. K. (1988). Presidential style: Personality, biography, and performance. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 55, 928–36. Simonton, D. K. (1990). Personality and politics. In L. A. Pervin (Ed.), Handbook of personality: Theory and research (pp. 670–92). New York: Guilford. Simonton, D. K. (1999). Talent and its development: An emergenic and epigenetic model. Psychological Review, 106, 435–57. Skidmore, D. (1993). Carter and the future of foreign policy reform. Political Science Quarterly, 108, 699–729. Skowronek, S. (1997). The politics presidents make: Leadership from John Adams to Bill Clinton. Cambridge, MA: Belknap/Harvard University Press. Smith, C. P. (Ed.). (1992). Motivation and personality: Handbook of thematic content analysis. New York: Cambridge University Press. Smith, E. (1999). George, Washington: What his first stint there taught him about loyalty. Texas Monthly, June, 111–13, 144–45. Smith, G. (1986). Morality, reason and power: American diplomacy in the Carter years. New York: Hill & Wang. Smith, M. B. (1968). A map for the analysis of personality and politics. Journal of Social Issues, 24, 15–28. Smith, M. B. (1973). Political attitudes. In J. N. Knutson (Ed.), Handbook of political psychology (pp. 57–82). San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Smith, R. N. (1997). “You can be president someday”: Richard M. Nixon as vicepresident. In T. Walch (Ed.), At the president’s side: The vice-presidency in the twentieth century (pp. 79–87). Columbia: University of Missouri Press. Snyder, R. C. (1958). A decision-making approach to the study of political phenomena. In R. Young (Ed.), Approaches to the study of politics (pp. 3–37). Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press. Snyder, R. C., Bruck, H. W., & Sapin, B. (1962). Foreign policy decision-making. New York: Free Press. Sorensen, T. (1965). Kennedy. New York: Harper and Row. Spangler, W. D., & House, R. J. (1991). Presidential effectiveness and the leadership motive profile. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 60, 445–47. Sperlich, P. W. (1969). Bargaining and overload: An essay on presidential power. In A. Wildavsky (Ed.), The presidency (pp. 168–92). Boston: Little, Brown. Sprout, H., & Sprout, M. (1965). The ecological perspective on human affairs. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

254

References

Starr, H. (1984). Henry Kissinger: Perception of international politics. Lexington: University of Kentucky Press. Stedman, S. J. (1996). Negotiation and mediation in internal conflict. In M. E. Brown (Ed.), The international dimensions of internal conflict. CSIA studies in international security (pp. 341–76). Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Steinbruner, J. D. (1974). The cybernetic theory of decision. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Stewart, A. J., & Chester, N. L. (1982). Sex differences in human social motives: Achievement, affiliation, and power. In A. J. Stewart (Ed.), Motivation and society (pp. 172–218). San Francisco: Jossey-Bass. Stout, D. (2000). The electors vote, and the surprises are few. New York Times, December 19, A1. Strack, S. (1997). The PACL: Gauging normal personality styles. In T. Millon (Ed.), The Millon inventories: Clinical and personality assessment (pp. 477–97). New York: Guilford. Suedfeld, P. (1994). President Clinton’s policy dilemmas: A cognitive analysis. Political Psychology, 15, 337–49. Suedfeld, P., Bluck, S., Ballard, E. J., & Baker-Brown, G. (1990). Canadian federal elections: Motive profiles and integrative complexity in political speeches and popular media. Canadian Journal of Behavioural Science, 22, 26–36. Suedfeld, P., Conway, L. G., and Eichhorn, D. (2001). Studying Canadian leaders at a distance. In O. Feldman & L. O. Valenty (Eds.), Profiling political leaders: Cross-cultural studies of personality and behavior (pp. 3–19). Westport, CT: Praeger. Suedfeld, P., & Tetlock, P. E. (1977). Integrative complexity of communications in international crises. Journal of Conflict Resolution, 21, 169–84. Suedfeld, P., Tetlock, P. E., & Streufert, S. (1992). Conceptual/integrative complexity. In C. P. Smith (Ed.), Motivation and personality: Handbook of thematic content analysis (pp. 393–400). New York: Cambridge University Press. Suedfeld, P., & Wallace, M. D. (1995). President Clinton as cognitive manager. In S. A. Renshon (Ed.), The Clinton presidency: Campaigning, governing, and the psychology of leadership (pp. 215–33). Boulder, CO: Westview Press. Talking Paper/Telephone. (1972). Quote appears in “Talking Paper: Telephone Conversation with the Vice President.” Nixon Papers. National Archives, College Park, MD. Memo stuck between memos dated May 3 and May 4, 1972. No author noted. Talking Paper/Vice President. (1972). Quote appears in “Talking Papers for the President: Meeting with the Vice President and Bob Haldeman on Political Strategy.” Nixon Papers. National Archives, College Park, MD. No date, but stuck between memos dated May 3 and May 4, 1972. Teachout, T. (2001). Republican nation, Democratic nation? Commentary, January, 23–29. Tetlock, P. E., & Boettger. R. (1989). Cognitive and rhetorical styles of traditionalist and reformist Soviet politicians: A content analysis study. Political Psychology, 10, 209–32. Tetlock, P. E., & Tyler, A. (1996). Churchill’s cognitive and rhetorical style: The debates over Nazi intentions and self-government for India. Political Psychology, 17, 149–70.

References

255

Thorpe, H. (1999). Go east, young man: Child of privilege? Sure, but he left Andover and Yale as a regular guy. Texas Monthly, June, 107, 132, 134. Tinsley, H.E.A. (1994). Review of the NEO Personality Inventory–Revised. In D. J. Keyser & R. C. Sweetland (Eds.), Test critiques, vol. 10 (pp. 443–56). Austin, TX: PRO-ED, Inc. To the right, march. (1968). Time, September 20, 16. Transcript—Interview with Vice President Dick Cheney—Part III. (2001). Jim Lehrer News Hour, October 12. http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/ terrorism/july-dec01/cheneyc_10-12.html. Travell, J. (1966). Oral history. Boston: John F. Kennedy Library. Travell, J. (1968). Office hours: Day and night. New York: World. Tucker, R. C. (1973). Stalin as revolutionary, 1879–1929: A study in history and personality, New York: W.W. Norton. Valenty, L. O., & Shiraev, E. (2001). The 1996 Russian presidential candidates: A content analysis of motivational configuration and conceptual/integrative complexity. In O. Feldman & L. O. Valenty (Eds.), Profiling political leaders: Cross-cultural studies of personality and behavior (pp. 37–56). Westport, CT: Praeger. van der Schaaf, W. (2000). De mens in de politiek [The human being in politics]. Unpublished thesis, University of Amsterdam, Amsterdam. Van Evera, S. (1997). Guide to methods for students of political science. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. VanderHei, J. (2001). President adapts a more serious tone as response to attacks molds his term. Wall Street Journal, September 27. Verba, S. (1969). Assumptions of rationality and non-rationality in models of the international system. In J. M. Rosenau (Ed.), International politics and foreign policy (rev. ed., pp. 217–31). New York: The Free Press. Verhovek, S. H. (1998). Is there room on a Republican ticket for another Bush? New York Times Magazine, September 13, 52–59, 85, 97, 109, 111. Wildavsky, A. (1996). The two presidencies. Trans-Action, 4, 5–15. Waddell, N., & Cairns, E. (1991). Identity preference in Northern Ireland. Political Psychology, 12, 205–13. Waite, R.G.L. (1977). The psychopathic God: Adolf Hitler. New York: Basic Books. Walker, S. (1977). The Interface between beliefs and behavior: Henry Kissinger’s operational code and the Vietnam War. Journal of Conflict Resolution, 21, 129–68. Walker, S. (1990). The evolution of operational code analysis. Political Psychology, 11, 403–18. Walker, S. (1993). National security roles and operational codes in political discourse of the United States and the Soviet Union. Working Papers on Security Discourse in the Cold War Era. New School for Social Research: Center for Studies of Social Change. Walker, S., Schafer, M., & Young, M. (1996). Operational codes and role identities: Measuring and modeling Jimmy Carter’s operational code. Paper presented at the 1996 Annual Meeting of the International Studies Association, San Diego, CA. Walker, S., Schafer, M., & Young, M. (1997). Profiling the operational codes of political leaders: The VICS method for the statistical analysis of textual

256

References

materials. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the International Studies Association, Toronto, Canada. Walker, S., Schafer, M., & Young, M. (1998). Systematic procedures for operational code analysis: Measuring and modeling Jimmy Carter’s operational code. International Studies Quarterly, 42, 175–90. Walker, S., Schafer, M., & Young, M. (1999). Presidential operational codes and foreign policy conflicts in the post–cold war world. Journal of Conflict Resolution, 43, 610–25. Walker, S. G., & Watson, G. L. (1992). The cognitive maps of British leaders, 1938– 39: The case of Chamberlain-in-cabinet. In E. Singer & V. Hudson (Eds.), Political psychology and foreign policy (pp. 31–58). Boulder, CO: Westview Press. Wallace, M. D., Suedfeld, P., & Thachuk, K. A. (1996). Failed leader or successful peacemaker? Crisis, behavior, and the cognitive processes of Mikhail Sergeyevitch Gorbachev. Political Psychology, 17, 453–72. Waltz, K. (1979). Theory of international politics. Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley. Wanous, J. P., & Reichers, A. E. (1996). Estimating the reliability of a single-item measure. Psychological Reports, 78, 631–34. Wanous, J. P., Reichers, A. E., & Hudy, M. (1997). Overall job satisfaction: How good are single item measures? Journal of Applied Psychology, 82, 247–52. Watson, G., & McGaw, D. (1980). Statistical inquiry. New York: John Wiley & Sons. Wattenberg. M. P. (1990). The decline of American political parties: 1952–1988. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Wattenberg, M. P. (1991). The rise of candidate centered politics: Presidential elections of the 1980’s. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Wayne, S. (1993). President Bush goes to war: A psychological interpretation from a distance. In S. Renshon (Ed.), The political psychology of the Gulf War (pp. 29–48). Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press. Weber, M. (1956). Politics as a vocation. In H. H. Gerth and C. Wright Mills (Eds.), From Max Weber: Essays in sociology. New York: Oxford University Press. [Original work published in 1919.] Weintraub, W. (1986). Personality profiles of American presidents as revealed in their public statements: The presidential news conferences of Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan. Political Psychology, 7, 285–95. Wendt, H. W., & Muncy, C. A. (1979). Studies of political character: Factor patterns of 24 U.S. vice-presidents. Journal of Psychology, 102, 125–31. Whicker, M., & Moore, R. (1988). When presidents are great. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall. White, T. H. (1961). The making of the president 1960. New York: Atheneum. Who is George W. Bush? (1999). Texas Monthly [special report], June, 105–23, 132, 134–46. Wicker, A. L. (1969). Attitudes versus actions: The relationship of verbal and overt behavioral responses to attitude objects. Journal of Social Issues, 25, 41–78. Widiger, T. A. (1992). Review of the NEO Personality Inventory–Revised. In J. J. Kramer & J. C. Conoley (Eds.), The eleventh mental measurements yearbook (pp. 605–6). Lincoln, NE: Buros Institute of Mental Measurement.

References

257

Wills, G. (1970). Nixon agonistes: The crisis of the self-made man. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. Wills, G. (1982). The Kennedy imprisonment. Boston: Little, Brown. Winter, D. G. (1973). The power motive. New York: Free Press. Winter, D. G. (1980). An exploratory study of the motives of southern African political leaders measured at a distance. Political Psychology, 2(2), 75–85. Winter, D. G. (1987). Leader appeal, leader performance, and the motive profiles of leaders and followers: A study of American presidents and elections. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 52, 196–202. Winter, D. G. (1991). Measuring personality at a distance: Development of an integrated system for scoring motives in running text. In A. J. Stewart, J. M. Healy, Jr., & D. Ozer (Eds.), Perspectives in personality: Approaches to understanding lives (pp. 59–89). London: Jessica Kingsley Publishers. Winter, D. G. (1992). Content analysis of archival data, personal documents, and everyday verbal productions. In C. P. Smith (Ed.), Motivation and personality: Handbook of thematic content analysis (pp. 110–25). New York: Cambridge University Press. Winter, D. G. (1993). Power, affiliation, and war: Three tests of a motivational model. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 65, 532–545. Winter, D. G. (1994). Manual for scoring motive imagery in running text (ver. 4.2). Ann Arbor: University of Michigan. Winter, D. G. (1995). Presidential psychology and governing styles: A comparative psychological analysis of the 1992 presidential candidates. In S. A. Renshon (Ed.), The Clinton presidency: Campaigning, governing, and the psychology of leadership (pp. 113–34). Boulder, CO: Westview Press. Winter, D. G. (1996). Personality: Analysis and interpretation of lives. New York: McGraw-Hill. Winter, D. G. (1997). Comparing “war” and “peace” crises: The role of motivation, responsibility, and integrative complexity. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the International Society of Political Psychology, Krako´w, Poland, July. Winter, D. G. (1998a). A motivational analysis of the Clinton first term and the 1996 presidential campaign. Leadership Quarterly, 9, 253–62. Winter, D. G. (1998b). “Toward a science of personality psychology”: David McClelland’s development of empirically derived TAT measures. History of Psychology, 1, 130–53. Winter, D. G., & Barenbaum, N. B. (1985). Responsibility and the power motive in women and men. Journal of Personality, 53, 335–55. Winter, D. G., & Carlson, L. (1988). Using motive scores in the psychobiographical study of an individual: The case of Richard Nixon. Journal of Personality, 56, 75–103. Winter, D. G., Hermann, M. G., Weintraub, W., & Walker, S. G. (1991a). The personalities of Bush and Gorbachev measured at a distance: Follow-up on predictions. Political Psychology, 12, 457–64. Winter, D. G., Hermann, M. G., Weintraub, W., & Walker, S. G. (1991b). The personalities of Bush and Gorbachev measured at a distance: Procedures, portraits, and policy. Political Psychology, 12, 215–45. Winter, D. G., John, O. P., Stewart, A. J., Klohnen, E., & Duncan, L. E. (1998).

258

References

Traits and motives: Toward an integration of two traditions in personality research. Psychological Review, 105, 230–50. Winter, D. G., & Stewart, A. J. (1977). Content analysis as a method of studying political leaders. In M. G. Hermann (Ed.), A psychological examination of political leaders (pp. 27–61). New York: Free Press. Winter, D. G., & Stewart, A. J. (1978). The power motive. In H. London & J. Exner (Eds.), Dimensions of personality (pp. 391–447). New York: John Wiley & Sons. Wintour, P. (1999). Things have only got worse. Observer, January 17, 21. Witcover, J. (1972). White knight: The rise of Spiro Agnew. New York: Random House. Witcover, J. (1996). Having started out as a moderate, Agnew took a circuitous route to conservatism. Baltimore Sun, September 19, A11. Wolfe, A. (1996). Marginalized in the middle. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Wolfe, A. (1998). One nation after all: What middle-class Americans really think about God, country, family, racism, welfare, immigration, homosexuality, work, the right, the left, and each other. New York: Viking Penguin. Wright, J. C., & Mischel, W. (1987). A conditional approach to dispositional constructs: The local predictability of social behavior. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 53, 1159–77. Wysoci, B., Jr., (1999). Americans decry moral decline. Wall Street Journal, June 24, A9. Yin, R. K. (1989). Case study research: Designs and methods (rev. ed.). Applied social research methods series. Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Young, M. (1996). Cognitive maps meet semantic networks. Journal of Conflict Resolution, 40, 395–414. Young, M. D. (2001). Building WorldView(s) with Profiler⫹. In G. A. Barnett (Series Ed.) & M. D. West (Vol. Ed.), Progress in Communication Sciences: Vol. 17. Applications of Computer Content Analysis (pp. 17–32). Westport, CT: Ablex Publishing. Young, M. D., & Schafer, M. (1998). Is there method in our madness? Ways of assessing cognition in international relations. Mershon International Studies Review, 42, 63–96. Yukl, G. (1998). Leadership in organizations (4th ed.). Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall.

Index

Achievement motivation, 26, 27, 42; and presidential greatness, 29–30; and presidential use of time, 38; problems in politics, 33–35 Actors, The (Presidential Personality type), 113–14 Adams, Gerry, 68; conceptual/integrative complexity scores during Good Friday Agreement negotiations, 76–78; motive imagery during Good Friday Agreement negotiations, 72–76 Addresses, inaugural, 105 Adenauer, Konrad, 21 n.1 Adjective Checklist, 105 Affiliation motivation, 26, 27, 42; and defensiveness under stress, 45 Agnew, Judy, 182, 195 Agnew, Spiro T.: civil rights and, 183, 186; criticism of Nixon, 187, 188; and liberal Republicanism, 184; popularity of, 182; presidential aspirations of, 187; pre–vice presidential career, 181, 183–85; psychological profiles of, 191–95, 196–98; rhetoric/speeches of, 186, 190–91, 195; selection as Nixon’s

running mate, 182–83; vicepresidency, 186–91 Agreeableness (factor), 108, 112, 114, 117, 119, 123, 124 Allport, Gordon, 158 Almond, Gabriel, 11, 19, 21 n.5, 124 Altman, Stuart and Jeanne, 16, 22 n.9 American Political Science Review, 9 Arms limitation, and presidential motives, 32–33

Barber, James D., 4–6, 16, 31–32, 38, 105 Barenbaum, Nicole B., 44 Bay of Pigs, 172, 175 Belief systems. See Operational codes Belief-behavior link, and Carter administration, 151–53 Bennett, W. Lance, 206, 208 Berlin Wall, 170 Big Five, Personality factors, 106, 108– 9, 111, 114, 117, 118, 123, 124 Blair, Tony, 68, 72; conceptual/integrative complexity scores during Good Friday Agreement negotiations, 76–78; motive imagery during

260

Index

Good Friday Agreement negotiations, 72–76 Boulding, Kenneth, 148 Bradley, Bill, 214–15 Brookline, Massachusetts, 163 Brzezinski, Zbigniew, 137, 141, 144, 154; and image of Soviet Union, 147–48; thematic statements by, 146 Buchanan, Patrick, 213 Buckley, William F., Jr., 191 Burgess Shale discoveries, 15 Burka, Paul, 85, 98 Burns, James McGregor, 17, 21 n.1, 34, 205 Bush, George H. W., 8, 214, 219; compared to Bill Clinton’s operational code, 54–63; cooperative tendencies, 56–57; instrumental beliefs, 60–62; philosophical beliefs, 60, 62; and Saddam Hussein, 61–62 Bush, George W., 201, 206, 209–10, 212, 214, 217–22; accommodating personality traits of, 89, 98, 99; ambitious (narcissistic) personality traits of, 89, 98, 99; and antiintrospectiveness, 94–95, 98, 99; and campaign for Governor of Texas, 224; and campaigning, 94, 95; A Charge to Keep, 85; charismatic leadership style of, 100, 101; and charm, 94, 97, 99, 101; childhood of, 97–98; cognitive style of, 94; and conflict aversiveness, 95, 99; as consensus builder, 101; consolidation component of leadership, 100; and crisis, 95, 101; dauntless (sublimated antisocial) personality traits of, 89, 96– 98, 99; and decision making, 94, 102; and deliberative leadership style, lack of, 100–101; as described by Richard Ben Cramer, 96; and diplomacy, 101; and discipline, 95, 98; dominant personality pattern of, 89, 95–96, 98, 99; and early presidential administration, 224–25; expressive behavior of, 93; First Son (Minutaglio), 85; foreign policy orientation of, 101; as high-dominance extra-

vert, 101; and impulsiveness, 93, 96, 99, 102; influence of brother Jeb’s early achievements on personality of, 98; influence of childhood bereavement on personality of, 98; interpersonal conduct of, 93; and judgment, 93, 94, 102; leadership limitations of, 102; leadership strengths of, 101; and loyalty, 93, 102; media profiles of, 85; as mediator/integrator, 101; and military force, use of, 101; and mobilization component of leadership, 99; mood and temperament of, 94; morphologic organization (ego strength) of, 95; motives of, 41–45; and need for validation, 93, 94; nicknames and teasing, penchant for, 98, 99, 103 n.9; “nomadic” period of, 97; object representations (relations) of, 95; and orchestration component of leadership, 99–100; outgoing personality pattern of, 89, 90–95, 98, 101; personality classification of, 91; personality profile of, 91; and policy formulation, 95; as policy maker, 99–101; and polls, 93; reflective vs. heroic leadership style of, 225; regulatory (ego-defense) mechanisms of, 94–95; relationship with father, 98; self-description by, 92; self-image of, 94; as subject of psychodiagnostic case study, 83; and terrorist attack of September 11, 2001, 223, 225–29; Texas Monthly special report on, 81, 85; Washington Post series on, 85; “wild, exotic days” of, 97 Candidate-centered politics, rise in, 207–8 Carlson, Leslie, 38–40, 47 n.8 Carter, Jimmy, 7, 8, 17, 21 n.1, 31, 33, 34, 40, 54–55, 57–58, 63, 141, 144; major statements by, 145; and “national malaise,” 47 n.4 Carter administration, 137, 143, 207; and congruence between image and

Index behavior, 153–55; and foreign policy, 152; and image of Soviet Union, 147–48; and Iranian hostage crisis, 148; and Soviet military intervention in Afghanistan, 148; and thematic content analysis, 144; and thematic statements, 146 Case studies: comparative approaches, need for, 22 n.13; contributions to leadership theory, 16 Castro, Fidel, 172 Center for the Study of the Presidency, 106 Chaos theory, 15 Character, 105, 118, 122 Character integrity, 202–3; and leadership capital, 203 Charisma, in presidents, 31 Chester, Nia, 46 n.1 Chief of Staff, 171 Churchill, Winston, 205 Clay, Lucius, 172 Clifford, Clark, 47 n.4 Clinton, William J., 6, 8, 72, 92, 204, 207, 209, 214, 215; bombing and power motive of, 41; compared to George H. W. Bush’s operational code, 54–63; conceptual/integrative complexity scores during Good Friday Agreement negotiations, 76–78; cooperative tendencies, 56–57; instrumental beliefs, 60–62; James David Barber’s characterization of, 5–6; motive change from 1992 to 1996, 40–42; motive imagery during Good Friday Agreement negotiations, 72–76; peace process in Northern Ireland, 68; philosophical beliefs, 60, 62; political skills of (1995–1996), 41; and reflective leadership, 206, 213; relationship with Monica Lewinsky and power motive of, 41; “slick Willie” image and achievement motivation of, 40–41 Cognitive structures, 44 Communist Party, motives of the General Secretaries of, 43 Complexity, conceptual/integrative:

261

meaning of, 70–71; scoring, 71–72; and tolerance, 71 Compulsive personality, 161, 175 Conflict resolution: and integrative solutions, 66–67; and mediation, 66; in Northern Ireland, 65 Congress, 169, 170, 174 Conscientiousness (factor), 108, 112, 114, 117, 119, 123, 124 Content analysis, 25 Converse, Philip, 141 Cooper, Chester, 7 Council of Economic Advisors, 176 Coups d’etat, military, motives of leaders of, 35, 47 n.5 Crick, Francis, 20 Cuban missile crisis, 14, 16, 171, 173 Damgard, John, 185, 186, 190, 191, 196 Darwin, Charles, 18 de Klerk, Frederik Willem, 17, 88 Deadline Data on World Affairs, 150–51 Department of Housing and Urban Affairs, 173 Depressive personality, 161, 162 Dolan, Christopher, 21 n.3 Dominators, The (Presidential Personality type), 113–14 Donley, Richard E., 26 Dramatic personality, 161, 162, 175 Drumcree, 68 DSM-IV (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders), 84, 85, 87, 88, 97 Duncan, Lauren, 47 n.9 Dutch politicians, 88 Ehrlichman, John, 188, 195, 196 Eisenhower, Dwight, 7, 14, 21 n.1, 31, 47 n.3, 130, 172, 204; and Dien Bien Phu, 8 Electoral success and presidential motives, 30 Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, 169 Erikson, Erik H., 21 n.1 Etheredge, Lloyd: diagnostic utility of abstracting personality traits from

262

Index

biographical data, 82; highdominance extravert type, 101; model of foreign policy orientations as complement to Millon’s model of personality, 99; personality and foreign policy orientation, 99, 101 Events data set, 150–51 Evolution theory, 18 Executive branch, 162, 176, 177 Executive Committee, 172, 173 Executive Office of the President, 3 Executive Order, 169, 174 Experts, presidential, 106 Extraversion (factor), 108, 112, 114, 117, 119–20, 123, 124 Extraverts, The (Presidential Personality type), 113–14 Facet scales, of NEO, 108–9, 111 Faschinbauer, Thomas R., 44 Five-factor model of personality (“Big Five”), 99, 100 Folia Primatologica, 21 n.2 Ford, Gerald R., 8, 204 Fox, Vicente, 35 Freud, Sigmund, 206 Fujimori, Alberto, 35 Gandhi, Indira, 88 Gandhi, Mahatma, 21 n.1 Geisel, Ernesto, 47 n.5 Generalists, 106 George, Alexander, 13, 18, 19, 22 nn.11, 13, 51–53, 153, 157 George, Alexander and Juliette, 6, 21 n.1 George, Juliette, 13 Glad, Betty, 6, 13, 14, 16–19, 21 n.4 Goldberg’s Adjectives, 106, 110, 127 Good Friday Peace Agreement, 68, 72 Good Guys, The (Presidential Personality type), 113–14 Gorbachev, Mikhail, 13, 17, 43, 44 Gore, Al, 209–10, 212, 214–22 Gould, Stephen Jay, 12, 15, 18, 21–22 n.7 Greatness: historical (of presidents),

115–17; ratings of, and presidential motives, 29–30 Greenstein, Fred I., 19, 21 n.1, 22 n.12, 26, 29, 41, 47 n.3, 151; critique of personality-in-politics literature, 81– 82; Personality and Politics, 81 Gulf War, 44–45 Haldeman, H. R., 186–89, 195–96 Harding, Warren G., 32 Health care reform, fiasco of Clinton plan for, 40 Hermann, Margaret G., 26, 44–45; mediator/integrator orientation of, 101; model of foreign policy role orientations as complement to Millon’s model of personality, 99 Hitler, Adolf, 9, 10, 13, 21 n.1 Holsti, Ole, 14, 149 Hot Line, 171 Hughes, Charles Evans, 13, 16, 21 n.1 Hume, John, 68, 72; conceptual/integrative complexity scores during Good Friday Agreement negotiations, 76–78; motive imagery during Good Friday Agreement negotiations, 72–76 Humor, sense of among presidents, 31 Hungary, 1956 uprising, 14 Hussein, Saddam, 44–45 Inaugural address, presidential, changes over time, 46 n.2 Innocents, The (Presidential Personality type), 113–14 Intelligence, 106, 117 Introverts, The (Presidential Personality type), 113–14 Irish peace process: course of the troubles, 67–69; Good Friday Agreement, 69 Janis, Irving, 16, 19 Jervis, Robert, 16 Job performance, 106, 115 John, Oliver P., 47 n.9 Johnson, Lyndon, 3, 5, 7–8, 21 n.1, 34–

Index 35, 40, 101, 167, 204, 209; as achievement-motivated, 35 Joint Chiefs of Staff, 176 Kegley, Charles, 150 Kennedy, John F., 6, 8, 16, 31, 47 n.3, 101, 162, 163, 164; Addison’s Disease and, 165, 167; ambitions of, 164, 168; assassination of, 173; Bay of Pigs and, 172; campaign of, 168; charisma of, 162; civil rights and, 170; compulsive personality attributes of, 175; concealment of illness by, 167–68; crisis management and, 171; Cuban Missile Crisis and, 171, 173; dominant personality style of, 169–75; dramatic leadership attributes of, 162, 170, 171–75; Housing Order of, 173, 174; illnesses of, 164, 165; inaugural address of, 169; institutionalized presidency and, 171; legislative agenda of, 169; March on Washington and, 174; motives in “crisis” speeches of, 36–37; motives in press conferences of, 36–38, 47 n.7; presidential ranking of, 175; press conferences and, 168, 170; psychological profile of, 165–68; rhetoric of, 168, 169, 170; secondary personality style of, 175; southern Democrats and, 173; staff of, 171, 174; State of the Union Address and, 174; wife of, 167, 171 Kennedy, Joseph (father), 163 Kennedy, Joseph, Jr. (brother), 164, 166 Kennedy, Rose (mother), 163, 164, 166 Kennedy Library and Museum, 163 Kershaw, Ian, 13 Kets de Vries, Manfred, 161, 162, 163, 171, 172, 174, 175, 176 Khrushchev, Nikita, 171, 173 King, Anthony, 18 King, Gary, 10–11 Kingdon, John W., 13 Kissinger, Henry, 149 Kitts, Kenneth, 14

263

Klohnen, Eva, 47 n.9 Kuchel, Thomas H., 184, 185 Larson, Deborah, 16, 19 Lasswell, Harold D., 5, 9 Leadership: and ambition, 202; and character integrity, 202; reflective vs. heroic, 202, 205–8, 213, 215, 217, 219–20, 223, 225; and relatedness, 202 Leadership capital, 202–4; and character integrity, 203 Leadership studies: and academic journals’ neglect of, 7; and classical political theorists, 7; and emotions, distrust of, 10–12; and primate studies, 21 n.9 Lee Kuan Kew, 35 Lemann, Nicholas, 42 Lenin, Vladimir, 13 Limits of predicting presidential behavior from motives, 44–46 Lincoln, Evelyn, 167 London School of Economics, 165 Machel, Samora, 47 n.5 Machiavelli, Niccolo`, 9 Maintainers, The (Presidential Personality type), 113–14 Mandela, Nelson, 17, 88 Maranell, Gary M., 29, 32 Marcus, George, 10 McCain, John, 218 McClelland, David C., 33 McGovern, George, 207 McNamara, Robert, 16 Mediation, 66; and integrative solutions, 66–67 Medicare, 170 Meir, Golda, 88 Merk, Frederick, 33–34 Miller, Danny, 161, 162, 163, 171, 172, 174, 175, 176 Millon, Theodore, personality model of: as adapted for study of personality in politics, 82; attribute domains of, 83, 84, 85; controlling personality pattern in, 95, 96; dis-

264

Index

senting personality pattern in, 97; integrative view of normality and psychopathology in, 83, 85, 102 n.2; outgoing personality pattern in, 90, 92; in political personality assessment, value of, 83 Millon Inventory of Diagnostic Criteria (MIDC): availability, 102 n.3; compatibility with standard psychodiagnostic practice, 88; congruence with DSM-IV, Axis II, 85, 88; description of, 85–86; as diagnostic tool, 86; inferring leadership implications from, 88; interpretation, 86, 88; manual, 85, 102 n.3; personality attributes assessed by, 85; and predicting leadership performance, 99; profile form, 86, 102 n.5, 102–3 n.6; scales, 85, 87; score sheet, 86; scoring, 86 Minutaglio, Bill, 85, 92, 96, 97 Mischel, Walter, 47 n.10 Mitchell, George, 68, 72; conceptual/ integrative complexity scores during Good Friday Agreement negotiations, 76–78; motive imagery during Good Friday Agreement negotiations, 72–76 Mitchell, John, 191 Moe, Terry, 10, 13 Mondale, Walter, 207 Morris, Lois B. See Oldham, John M. and Lois B. Morris Morris, Richard B., 29 Morton, Lewis, 11 Motives, and responsibility, 44; as an element of personality, 25, 70; implicit vs. conscious, 25; measured at a distance, 25–29, 70; in relation to personality, 43–44. See also Achievement motivation; Affiliation motivation; Power motivation Mowlam, Mo, 68, 72; conceptual/integrative complexity scores during Good Friday Agreement negotiations, 76–78; motive imagery during Good Friday Agreement negotiations, 72–76

Mumford, Lewis, 10 Muskie, Edmund, 141, 144; thematic statements by, 146 Nader, Ralph, 210 Narcissistic personality disorder, 166 National Security Council, 176 Negotiating style, 27 NEO-PI-R (Revised NEO Personality Inventory), 106–7, 110, 127 Neurotic leadership style, 161, 162, 177 Neuroticism (factor), 108, 112, 114, 117, 119–20, 123, 124 Neustadt, Richard E., 4, 19 New York Hospital, 167 Nixon, Richard, 7, 8, 31, 34, 168, 177, 204; motives and behaviors of, 38– 40; motives of first and second inaugural addresses, 38; opinion of Agnew, 183, 188–89; psychological profiles of, 191–95, 196–98; “tricky Dick” image and motives of, 47 n.8; vice presidency of 192 Office of Management and Budget, 176 Oldham, John M. and Lois B. Morris: adventurous personality style, 97; aggressive personality style, 95, 96; dramatic personality style, 90 Ones, Deniz S., 44 Openness (factor), 108, 111, 112, 114, 117–18, 120, 122, 123, 124 Operational beliefs, 142–43; contextual and methodological study, 157–58; explanatory and predictive power, 156–57; and identifying content, 155; and public statements, 143 Operational codes, 155; continuity and change for George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton, 57–58; instrumental beliefs, 51–53; international and domestic domains for George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton, 59–60; philosophical beliefs, 51–53; and “self-in-situation” perspective, 63 Ordeshook, Peter C., 11

Index Paranoid personality, 161, 162, 177 Park Chung Hee, 47 n.5 Party-centered politics, decline of, 207. See also Candidate-centered politics Peace Corps, 169 Perot, Ross, 35, 213 Personality and the Presidency project, 108 Personality assessment, indirect: cognitive complexity, 82; content analysis, 82, 102 n.4; cross-cultural considerations, 88; expert ratings, 82; foreign policy role orientation, 82–83; motives, 82; personal political style, 82; process analysis, 86, 102 n.4; reliability, 82; secondary sources, 82; validity, 82; worldview, 82 Personality in politics, study of: ethical requirements for, 86; as “formidably gnarled,” 81; Greenstein’s critique, 81–82; as “preparadigmatic,” 82; as “primitive science,” 82; in relation to clinical psychodiagnostics, 83, 102 n.1, 102 n.4; as scholarly endeavor, 81–82 Philosophes, The (Presidential Personality type), 113–14 Popper, Karl, 14–15 Power motivation, 26, 27, 42; and political skills, 34; and presidential greatness, 29–30; and presidential use of time, 36–37 Predictions, “if/then,” from personality to behavior, 45–46 The Presidential Character, 4–6 Presidential Power, 4 Presidential success, predicting, 115– 17 Presidents, U.S., motive scores of inaugural addresses, 26, 28 Presley, Elvis, 171 Primate studies, 22 n.9; psychological aspects, 21 n.2. See also Leadership studies Private beliefs, 141–43

265

Psychodiagnostic meta-analysis, 82, 86, 88, 102 n.1 Psychotic leadership style, 177 Public beliefs, 141–43 Pye, Lucian, 32 Q-sort, 105–6, 110, 127 Raters: inter-rater reliability, 110; presidential, 106 Reagan, Ronald, 5, 6, 7, 8, 34, 81, 113, 122, 126, 128, 193, 204, 209 Reedy, George, 35 Renshon, Stanley, 6, 99–100 Responsibility, 26 Revised NEO Personality Inventory. See NEO-PI-R Ridings-McIver Poll, 175 Riesman, David, 5 Riker, William H., 11 Rockefeller, Nelson, 184, 185 Rogow, Arnold, 11 Roosevelt, Franklin D., 3, 6, 8, 34, 44, 101, 171 Roosevelt, Theodore, 5, 101, 130 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 107 Rubenzer, Steven J., 44 Rules, interpretive, for presidential personality portraits, 120–22 Salinger, Pierre, 167 Scandals, and presidential motives, 32– 33 Schizoid personality, 161, 162, 177 Schmitt, David P., 26, 43 Scientific method and leadership theory: hierarchy of inquiry, 12; ideopathic and natural sciences, 12–15, 21 nn.6, 7; ideopathic and social sciences, 14–15; nature of proofs, 12– 18, 23 n.14; and textbook ideas of science, 8, 11–12, 18; and thought experiments, 16 Secret Service, 167 Secretary of State, 171 Shearer, Lloyd, 31–32 Shiraev, Eric, 13, 17 Shriver, Sargent, 191

266

Index

Simon, Herbert, 10, 20 Simonton, Dean Keith, 26, 44, 105, 110, 113, 115, 118, 122; charismatic presidential style, 92, 99, 100; creative presidential style, 99; deliberative presidential style, 95, 99, 100; interpersonal presidential style, 92, 97, 99; neurotic presidential style, 99; secondary sources as basis for indirect personality assessment, 82 Sloan Management Review, 21 n.2 Smith, Brewster, 19 Smith, Charles P., 26 Smith, Gaddis, 143 Social capital theory, 202–4 Social trust, 203–4 Soviet Foreign Ministry, 171 Specialists, 106 Speechwriters, influence on motive imagery of presidential speeches, 46– 47 n.2 Stalin, Joseph, 9, 13, 21 n.1 Starr, Harvey, 149 Stewart, Abigail, 36, 46 n.1, 47 n.9 Strack, Stephen: forceful personality style, 95, 96; sociable personality style, 90, 92 Suedfeld, Peter, 26

Teachout, Terry, 210, 212 Terrorist attack of September 11, 2001, 223, 225–29 Texas Monthly magazine, special report on George W. Bush, 81, 85 Thatcher, Margaret, 45, 88 Thematic Apperception Test, 26 Traits, 44 Travell, Janet, 167 Trimble, David, 68, 72; conceptual/integrative complexity scores during Good Friday Agreement negotiations, 76–78; motive imagery during

Good Friday Agreement negotiations, 72–76 Truman, Harry S., 3, 8, 34, 41, 47 n.3 Typology, Presidential personality, 112–14 Tyrants, psychology of, 17–18 Valence, positive and negative, 106, 127 Validity, construct, 106, 107, 110, 117– 18 Vance, Cyrus, 137, 144; and image of Soviet Union, 147–48; and resignation, 154; thematic statements by, 146 Verba, Sidney, 10 VICS (verbs in context system), 51; methodology, 54–55 Videla, Jorge, 47 n.5 Walker, Stephen, 44–45, 149 War entry, and presidential motives, 32–33 Washington Post, series of articles on George W. Bush (Romano and Lardner), 85 Weber, Max, 6 Weintraub, Walter, 44–45 Whiting, Harry, 15 Wilson, Woodrow, 5, 13, 31, 34, 46 n.2 Winter, David G., 25, 26, 29, 32, 35, 36, 37, 38–40, 43, 44–45, 47 n.8, 105 Wintour, P., 34 World Bank, 35; protests against, 47 n.6 World leaders, motives of, 43 Worldview: and Carter administration, 139–40; and image theory, 139 Wright, Jack, 47 n.10 Yeltsin, Boris, 17 Zedong, Mao, 9

About the Editors and Contributors

LINDA O. VALENTY is Assistant Professor of Political Science at San Jose State University. She has authored several journal articles and book chapters on the subject of political behavior and political psychology. She is the recipient of multiple research grants and has presented research at numerous national and international scholarly meetings. She serves as a reviewer for Prentice Hall, Houghton Mifflin, and Wadsworth Publishing, and is on the Executive Board of the Psycho-Politics Research Committee of the International Political Science Association. She is coeditor (with Ofer Feldman) of Profiling Political Leaders (Praeger, 2001). OFER FELDMAN is Associate Professor of Social Psychology and Politics at Naruto University of Education, Japan. He is the author of numerous journal articles in the fields of political psychology and communication studies. In addition, he is the author of Politics and the News Media in Japan (1993), The Japanese Political Personality (1999), and two books in Japanese on political behavior. He is the editor of Political Psychology in Japan (1999) and co-editor (with Christ’l De Landtsheer) of Politically Speaking (Praeger, 1998) and Beyond Public Speech and Symbols (Praeger, 2000). MARY E. CARROLL is Associate Professor of Political Science and Director of the Master of Public Administration Program at San Jose State University. Her research interests include leadership and organizational theory, and she has authored several journal articles on these topics. She currently heads the Bureau of Government Research at San Jose State University.

268

About the Editors and Contributors

THOMAS R. FASCHINGBAUER has served on the faculties of Duke University Medical School, The University of North Carolina–Asheville, The University of Texas Medical School–Houston, and Baylor College of Medicine. He was in private practice in Houston for 21 years and is a longtime member of the American Psychological Association and the Houston Psychological Association. In addition to psychology, he has worked as a Russian Linguist, taught elementary school, and been a juvenile probation officer. Since 1999 he has been Chief Psychologist at Fort Bend County Juvenile Probation Department in Richmond, Texas. He is the author of approximately 40 books, book chapters, and journal articles and was elected to membership in the Faculty Senate at UTHSC and the New York Academy of Sciences. He is currently working on a historiometric book on presidential personality.

ROBERT E. GILBERT is Professor of Political Science at Northeastern University. A specialist on the American presidency, he has published widely in such journals as Political Psychology, Presidential Studies Quarterly, Politics and the Life Sciences, and Political Communication. The second edition of his book The Mortal Presidency: Illness and Anguish in the White House (1998) was designated by Choice as one of 1998’s “Outstanding Academic Books.” More recently, he edited and contributed to a companion volume, Managing Crisis: Presidential Disability and the Twenty-Fifth Amendment (2000). He is a grantee of the John F. Kennedy Foundation as well as the Center for the Study of the Presidency.

BETTY GLAD is the Olin D. Johnston Professor of Political Science at the University of South Carolina. She has been president of the International Society for Political Psychology and vice president of the American Political Science Association, as well as president of its Presidency Research Group. She was a recipient of the Frank Goodnow Award of the APSA in 2000, of the Harold Lasswell Award of the International Society for Political Psychology in 1997, and of a National Endowment for the Humanities Senior Fellowship in 1976. Her books include Charles Evans Hughes and the Illusions of Innocence (1966), Jimmy Carter: In Search of the Great White House (1980), Key Pittman: The Tragedy of a Senate Insider (1986), The Psychological Dimensions of War (editor and contributor) and, most recently, The Russian Transformation: Political, Sociological and Psychological Aspects (co-editor and contributor, 1999). She is also the author of articles on several U.S. and other political leaders as well methodological issues germane to political psychology. Earlier in her career she was a professor at the University of Illinois and has been a visiting professor at New York University and several other institutions.

About the Editors and Contributors

269

FRED I. GREENSTEIN is Professor of Politics Emeritus at Princeton University. His books include Children and Politics (1965), Personality and Politics: Problems of Evidence, Inference, and Conceptualization (1969), The Hidden-Hand Presidency: Eisenhower as Leader (1982), How Presidents Test Reality: Decisions on Vietnam, 1954, 1965 (1988) (with John P. Burke) and The Presidential Difference: Leadership Style from FDR to Clinton (2000). He is co-author (with Nelson W. Polsby) of The Handbook of Political Science, 8 vols. (1975). AUBREY IMMELMAN is Associate Professor of Psychology at Saint John’s University in Minnesota. He has served on the governing council of the International Society of Political Psychology. He is a 1993 alumnus of the International Society of Political Psychology’s Summer Institute in Political Psychology and has received continuing education in personality assessment through the Institute for the Advanced Studies in Personology and Psychopathology. Immelman specializes in the personality assessment of presidents, presidential candidates, and other public figures. His Millon Inventory of Diagnostic Criteria (MIDC) and Manual offer a conceptual framework and methodology for extracting personality data directly from information in the public domain. Immelman’s work on the assessment of personality in politics has been published in Political Psychology and Leadership Quarterly. He contributed the chapter “Personality in Political Psychology” to the forthcoming Comprehensive Handbook of Psychology. DENIZ S. ONES is the holder of the Hellervik Endowed Professorship in Industrial and Organizational Psychology at the Department of Psychology of the University of Minnesota. Ones, an international expert in personality and integrity testing for personnel selection and personality assessment for workplace applications, has authored of over 50 journal articles and over 200 conference papers. Currently, she is co-editing the two-volume Handbook of Industrial, Work and Organizational Psychology and special issues for two journals (Human Performance, on ability testing, and International Journal of Selection Assessment, on counterproductive work behaviors). Her current research and teaching interests include personality as it relates to job performance, integrity testing, and the application of meta-analytic techniques in the social sciences. STANLEY A. RENSHON is Professor of Political Science at The City University of New York and a certified psychoanalyst. He has authored over 60 articles and 10 books, including Psychological Needs and Political Behavior (1974), Handbook of Political Socialization (1997), The Political Psychology of the Gulf War (1993), The Clinton Presidency (1995), The Psychological Assessment of Presidential Candidates (1998), Political Psychology:

270

About the Editors and Contributors

Cultural and Cross-cultural Foundations (2000) (with John Duckitt), One America? (2001), Good Judgment in Foreign Policy (2002) (with Deborah Larson), and America’s Second Civil War (2002). His psychologically framed biography of Clinton, High Hopes: The Clinton Presidency and the Politics of Ambition (1996), won the 1997 Richard E. Neustadt Award for the best book on the presidency and the National Association for the Advancement of Psychoanalysis’ Gravida Award for the best psychoanalytic biography. He was a Research Fellow at Harvard’s John F. Kennedy School of Government (2000–2001) studying the role of character issues in the 2000 presidential election. JEREL ROSATI is Professor of Political Science and International Studies at the University of South Carolina. His area of specialization is the theory and practice of foreign policy, focusing on political psychology and the U.S. policy-making process. He is the author or editor of five books including The Carter Administration’s Quest for Global Community: Beliefs and Their Impact on Behavior (1987), The Politics of United States Foreign Policy (1999), The Power of Human Needs in World Society (1989), Foreign Policy Restructuring: How Governments Respond to Global Change (1994), and Readings in the Politics of United States Foreign Policy (1998), and the author of numerous scholarly articles and chapters. STEVEN J. RUBENZER is a clinical and forensic psychologist. For four years, he performed virtually all of the psychological evaluations for a metropolitan community mental system and subsequently has conducted over 5,000 evaluations for criminal courts in the Houston area. He also founded the Houston Psychological Assessment Association. His research on the personality of U.S. presidents has garnered national and international attention from both the public and the research community. He has also published professional articles on computerized psychological assessment and has served as a reviewer for Division 5 (Evaluation, Measurement and Statistics) for the American Psychological Association. MARK SCHAFER is Associate Professor of Political Science at Louisiana State University. He teaches international relations and specializes in political psychology, foreign policy decision making, and conflict resolution. Schafer’s research has been published in the Journal of Politics, Journal of Conflict Resolution, International Studies Quarterly, Political Psychology, International Interactions, and other scholarly outlets. Most of his research is in three areas: group decision making, the operational code, and personality correlates in foreign policy decision making. STEPHEN G. WALKER is Professor of Political Science at Arizona State University. He has served as a vice president of the International Society

About the Editors and Contributors

271

of Political Psychology, as a co-editor of International Studies Quarterly, and on the editorial boards of Political Psychology and International Interactions. His research on the operational codes of political leaders as they relate to problems of crisis management has been funded by the National Science Foundation. He has published in several academic journals, including World Politics, International Studies Quarterly, Journal of Conflict Resolution, Journal of Peace Research, Political Psychology, and Journal of Politics. SCOTT W. WEBSTER is Assistant Director of the Center for Public Leadership at the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University. Currently he is completing his dissertation on Spiro Agnew. Webster is a former James A. Finnegan Foundation Fellow, a Pew Charitable Trusts Teaching Fellow, and a Fellow of the Society for Values in Higher Education. He is co-author of Dead Center: Clinton-Gore Leadership and the Perils of Moderation (with James MacGregor et al., 1999). Webster has also published articles and book reviews in various journals including Presidential Studies Quarterly, The Southern Historian, Proteus, and the Washington Post. DAVID G. WINTER is Professor of Psychology at the University of Michigan. His specialty is personality and social psychology, with a particular interest in political psychology. His research has focused on power and power motivation; the motivational bases of leadership; and the psychological aspects of conflict escalation, war, and peace. He is the author of The Power Motive (1973), Motivating Economic Achievement (with D. C. McClelland, 1969), A New Case for the Liberal Arts (with D. C. McClelland and A. J. Stewart, 1981), and Personality: Analysis and Interpretation of Lives (1996), as well as numerous papers in psychological journals. He also translated and edited Otto Rank’s The Don Juan Legend (1975). He is a past president of the International Society of Political Psychology. MICHAEL D. YOUNG is an owner and the General Manager of Social Science Automation, Inc. He has developed software for the analysis of text and for the creation and use of cognitive maps to forecast political behavior. He has published on these topics and on approaches to cognitive analysis more broadly.