I’m a historian thinking about a career change, and so I picked up the HBR “Best Reads” books in order to better understand the mentality of the modern corporation. As a trespasser in the world of business advice writing, there are lot of things about the genre that seem strange, notable, and different. I think my perspective can help clarify something about the larger mentality of corporate workers.
One of the most surprising things to me about the book first was that there was a complete lack of attention to chronology. The essays range over nearly five decades: the oldest essay was written in 1960, the most recent 2006. Yet the information about when pieces were written is buried at the very end of each document, written in tiny, forgettable script—you as a reader are not supposed to think about when the pieces were written. They are timeless pieces of business advice. The blindness to time is exacerbated by the book’s complete lack of organization. The essays are arranged alphabetically by author. There isn’t even any introductory matter that can help you understand why these pieces were chosen, or the context in which they were written, or their relationship to one another, or their larger effect on the field, or the existence of any kind of field of discussion at all. The result, then, is that it’s hard to get a sense of progression as you read through the pieces.
Neither do the authors explicitly position themselves in the context of any particular tradition or conversation.—When you read the work of academic historians, we will tell you who in particular we were inspired by and who in particular we are arguing against. This helps the reader put our work into a bigger context, to know what is new, useful and provocative about the individual piece.—But there is very little similar positioning in the HBR pieces. If you’re not paying attention, it just feels like a whole bunch of good (perhaps facile) advice. You get a bunch of free-standing advice—all of it convincing, and much of it probably thought provoking, and certainly some of it sound—but all this advice feels fractured, like a series of Instagram motivational pictures, just with more charts.
Despite this, I found that there was a kind of distinctive Harvard Business Review mentality: the culture of the Leader. Now in the business advice world, this might be standard, but it took some work for me to understand just who the audience for this writing was—just who the Leaders were who were imagined to be reading the pieces. The Leader seems to be a manager, perhaps an upper-level manager, who is responsible for big decisions and many people. The Leader is motivated. They are high achieving. They want to do good. Good for their firm—the Leader rarely has responsibility for their subordinates, or their customers, except insofar as it reflects the larger values and motivations of the company. What the leader wants is what the company wants. The Leader has achieved power and control—they just need to know how to use that power and control better.
What’s interesting is what the Leader does not see. The Leader very rarely sees anything outside of work. He (and the complete inattention to gender means it’s always a he) does not need to go home, sleep, play with the kids, and exercise. The Leader’s interests always align with their company. They do not have allegiance to a nation, ideology, or religion whose values might be in conflict with those of the company. They do not want higher pay. They do not feel any solidarity for particular parts of the company that might put some of their interests against others. The Leader makes hard choices—but hard choices about business. The Leader’s life, in other words, is full of business drama—stuff about strategy and marketing—and almost completely absent of human drama—they never feel fundamentally conflicted about their role as a Leader.
The Leader does not see the state. It’s like the Leader does not live in the same world of laws, politics, lobbying, special interests, congressional hearings and the like. Maybe it’s because those essays that consider the state too much become dated, and so they’re not considered for edited volumes of presumably timeless business advice content. But the Leader in these pieces almost never considers the state.
When you read between the lines, you get the sense that the Leader who is reading these pieces is understood to not always be a Leader. The Leader is often someone who wants to be a Leader: a student at Harvard Business School, perhaps. But the sense is that of course because of their smarts, ambition, and drive (and their good taste in reading the HBR)—they are certain to become a Leader after all.