Beginning in 1984, through 2013, except for three years, I was a headmaster. Because of so many pertinent examples in schools around the world, headmaster is a position often parodied, sometimes vilified. Mr. Chips and Professor Dumbledore are exceptions to the image of the autocratic, tradition-bound, punishment-prone power in private schools of various reputation.
I’d like to think that I was different. But, in fact, the way schools like mine worked, the headmaster was expected by the Board of Trustees to be fully in command, the final arbiter of any issue involving faculty, students, parents, vendors, the media; you name it.
Within a private school, the head of school is the person of power. Now I have learned, if the research is right, that those 26 years in “power” might have damaged my brain as badly as if I had suffered a traumatic brain injury.
I will resist the temptation to say “great, now I have an excuse for all of the dumb decisions I made.” That ignores the fact that I chose to become a headmaster and stayed in the job for so long. I could claim ignorance—who knew that power was bad for you? But there had been subtle warnings. (“Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Lord Acton) Power is “a sort of tumor that ends by killing the victim’s sympathies.” Henry Adams)
Jerry Useen might say that Henry Adams got it right. Useen, writing in the July/August 2017 “The Atlantic,” cites the research of Sukhvinder Obni, a neuroscientist, who found, through using a transcranial-magnetic-stimulator machine, that “power…impairs a specific neural process called ‘mirroring’ that may be a cornerstone of empathy. That gives a neurological basis to what [psychology professor Dacher] Keltner has termed ‘the power paradox.’ Once we have power, we lose some of the capacities we needed to gain it in the first place.”
If you are interested in further validation of the thesis, read the article. There are, though, suggestions of hope for those in power. One who is, by nature, resolutely and unfailingly other-directed might have the necessary armor to deflect constant adulation and incessant reminders of her or his power. The movie, “Patton,” ends with a tale from Roman times about the slave who is charged with whispering in the ear of returning war heroes “all fame is fleeting.”
Useen notes that psychologist Keltner suggests that people in power regularly remind themselves of times and situations when they were not powerful. He continues his suggestions by noting powerful people who have had advisors who constantly reminded them of their humanity (Louis Howe and FDR) or spouses intent on keeping an expanding ego in check as much as possible (Clementine Churchill).
Distill the various suggestions of hope and what emerges is empathy. There is much to be gained by walking a mile in the other person’s moccasins, to paraphrase Native American wisdom.
One of the greatest privileges I have in these PPP (post-power-position) days is to work with students on their dissertations prepared in pursuit of the Ed.D. degree in Professional Education Practice at UH Manoa. I have worked with five students in the most recent cohort, each one writing about a topic drawn from their individual educational practice.
One of the topics has been innovative teaching. Through interviews, focus groups, and review of relevant literature, the student has explored manifestations of innovation in teaching and catalogued the characteristics of those teachers who are acknowledged to be innovative. The research led the student to make a number of insightful observations that could be helpful to those who hire teachers or, for that matter, workers in other endeavors as well.
What surprised him was that the common characteristic in people seen to be innovative was empathy.
There are some of you People of a Certain Age saying right now, “Duh. How obvious is that?”
Perhaps so. This would not be the first time, however, when the obvious has been overlooked in favor of more complex or “deeper” explanations, or the internal emotion downplayed in favor of external technique.
Why is your favorite teacher your favorite teacher?
Would the architects of the financial crisis of 2007-08 acted differently if they had empathy for those who might be harmed by their risky, perhaps even illegal, behavior? Would policy makers act any differently if a regular part of their deliberative process was to consider whether their constituents feel served or served up, made vulnerable to the economic or political advantages of this group or that?
The student’s research has led to another question; can empathy be taught? He thinks there are ways to bring out whatever empathic tendencies one might have. I hope he is right.
And I hope that those responsible for the selection, care, and feeding of leaders—in education, politics, business, wherever—will accept the power of empathy to reduce the brain-damaging effects of power.
How many times can one hear “you’re the greatest” without ultimately believing it? How many of the powerful employ the whisperer to remind him or her that “all power is fleeting?”
Daniel E. White
August 14, 2017