This is a book for lovers of biographies who aspire to lead. It is clearly the product of a reader as voracious as Clifton Hillegrass, but it isn’t merely a collection of Cliff’s notes on the lives of leaders who bent the arc of destiny. It is rich with Jan-Benedict "J-B" Steenkamp’s strategic play-by-play and color commentary as a distinguished professor of marketing. I enjoyed it for several reasons.
Marketing lens on leadership
J-B demonstrates his mastery of the leadership literature and builds on the work of Isaiah Berlin, John Kotter, Robert Greenleaf, Bill George, Ron Heifetz, and Jim Collins, to name a few. With one leader per chapter, the book fits nicely into 16-week semester courses on leadership. But I found J-B’s view of leaders through the lens of marketing a refreshing departure from the usual management grind. His subjects range from Themistocles of Athens, whose career as commander peaked in 480 BC, to Nelson Mandela who stepped down as president of South Africa in 1999.
In the chapter on Simon of Galilee, also known as Peter the Apostle, J-B gives us his take on the diffusion of Christianity. When Peter—a brand manager of sorts—decided that Gentiles needn’t obey the Law of Moses as a requisite to becoming Christians, he broke Christianity from its cultural roots in Judaism. That cracked the market wide open: instead of a niche of a few million Jews at most, Christians could target the 60 million Gentiles across the Roman Empire. J-B likens Peter’s move to Unilever’s selling off one of its original staples, margarine, which had put the Uni in Unilever when Margarine Unie NV merged with Lever Brothers in 1930.
In the chapter on the Germanic king Clovis, we see religion’s role in executing strategy. The Germanic tribes tended to rule by military might than by civil structures because the latter required literacy and education—earmarks of Roman society, not Frank tribes. The more Clovis conquered, the more he realized that he couldn’t easily maintain his territory while expanding into new markets, so to speak; he needed all his forces on the battlefield.
So Clovis—a pagan—converted to Catholicism to leverage the vast administrative network of the Catholic Church. He also gained the support of Catholics in his wars against non-Catholic kingdoms. The leadership lesson is, if you make this kind of change, make sure everybody knows about it. In 500 AD, a leader’s publicist was his sword, and Clovis got himself some good publicity, Fifth Century style (e.g., by killing staff who weren’t good brand ambassadors).
J-B compares Clovis’ investment in Catholicism to corporate investments in social responsibility initiatives, “as an insurance policy when things go wrong.” He reminds us of BP’s massive green advertising campaign. Whether BP was truly pursuing green energy or Clovis was adhering to Catholicism didn’t matter, so long as their public shows were credible. J-B observes that, after BP’s Deepwater Horizon disaster, its prices didn’t plummet and its consumers didn’t switch brands en masse. Marketing mission accomplished.
There are too many highlights to note here—Deng’s stretching of the Marxist brand to sell his policies, Mandela’s mastery of his target market’s language and mindset, Bismarck’s focusing resources rather than diversifying his strategy—and so I’ll end with J-B’s analysis of John “Jacky” Arbuthnot Fisher, who revitalized the Royal Navy’s brand of supremacy on the high seas (over the market challenger, Germany) by discontinuing what he considered outdated business lines even though they were still performing well. Fisher then pursued organizational and product innovations, dispensing with social classes, revamping the training program, and introducing torpedo boat destroyers and the legendary Dreadnought battleship.
Leaders around the dinner table
I’ve known J-B for 15 years. I published his first book, gave his second and third books careful reads, and worked with his wife Valarie on a project. Yet I discovered a new side of J-B. He writes of his father and his brother as leaders of skill and consequence in the Netherlands—and as role models and mentors who influenced his own approach to leadership. It reminded me of Stephen Covey whose family anecdotes in Seven Habits of Highly Effective People gave the book a local habitation and humanity.
Leadership to what end?
J-B acknowledges that all but one story involved a great thinning of a population, through the massacres of war, political revolution, and foreign pathogens—and almost all of them related to the impact of European imperialism and colonialism on the world. Were followers as expendable as they seem to be under capitalism and communism, especially in this pandemic? Or did these leaders honor those who gave their lives, or remember their families when divvying up the spoils?
The authentic and servant leaders J-B describes—George Washington, Florence Nightingale, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and Nelson Mandela—stand out as anomalies in the otherwise barbaric course of human endeavor. Or perhaps they are weak signals of the leaders to come, the leaders who don’t play zero-sum games with followers’ lives, the leaders whose Time to Lead is now?