RESPONSIBLE LEADERSHIP

The theory of responsible leadership emerged a decade ago. Its initial proponents, Thomas Maak and Nicola Pless, define responsible leadership as “a relational and ethical phenomenon, which occurs in social processes of interaction with those who affect or are affected by leadership and have a stake in the purpose and vision of the leadership relationship.” ^{Footnote 12} These authors argue the global financial collapse was due to irresponsible action that has severely shaken people’s faith in leaders, organizations, and governments. Some have called for corporate leaders to stop focusing exclusively on profit and assume social and political responsibility with the aim of fostering a global common good. Yet what the “global common good” looks like, and how feasible it is to put into practice, may be easier to imagine than to achieve.

Additionally, Maak and Pless acknowledge the need for responsible leadership to be fluid, so as to be responsive to different situational contexts. They argue that many scholars view responsible leadership as rooted in “a relational, values-centred concept that aims to generate positive outcomes for followers and stakeholders.” ^{Footnote 13} But how these positive outcomes might be generated in practice is somewhat vague. It is unlikely, for example, that all concerned will agree on what constitutes positive outcomes, or that they will even hold shared values. Put simply, in any organizational endeavour, some actors may focus on the “bottom line,” while others may be more interested in broader, ethical concerns. Each person may perceive themselves as acting responsibly, but how they view responsible action may diverge considerably. ^{Footnote 14}

Maak and Pless also contend that responsible leadership requires the cultivation of ethical relationships. In practical terms, this requires leaders to co-operate with diverse stakeholder groups, and act in an accountable and dependable way. Although accountability and dependability are worthy attributes, Kim Cameron suggests there is an important element missing in most discussions of responsible leadership. That element is virtuousness, which represents “a universal and stable standard of the good.” ^{Footnote 15} In Cameron’s view, virtuousness and ethics are not the same, because the latter can be affected by situational context, whereas virtuousness is not. What is more, he argues, virtuousness is positive because it elevates others and promotes human flourishing. Connecting virtuousness with responsibility is, states Cameron, more likely to promote organizational well-being.

Although some social scientists may regard the concept of virtue as philosophically obtuse, Cameron maintains many organizations could benefit from virtuous leadership because it “produces desirable ends.” ^{Footnote 16} Because virtuousness is about goodness and nobility, it “represents the unchanging standard by which to make decisions.” ^{Footnote 17} Stable standards are important for organizational well-being, Cameron contends, since without them, leaders may make up their own rules. As an example, he points to problems when organizational policies suggest ethical obligations, as in the case of Enron, but fail to result in ethical action. Cameron’s supposition seems to be that when virtuous action is prevalent, unethical leadership acts are less likely to occur.

The problem with universal claims about virtue, for Arendt, is that virtuous action can lead to hypocrisy. Such hypocrisy is dangerous, since people may assume that a leader is acting in their best interests, only to discover later that collective interests were ignored in favor of self-interest. Following Machiavelli, Arendt declares that it is not virtue that matters to leaders, but virtuosity, since glorious deeds reveal the best of humankind. ^{Footnote 18} The point is that virtuous deeds do not always produce positive outcomes. To suggest so, as Cameron does, is to ignore the effects of contingency.

Additionally, a significant issue with perceiving virtue as a universal good, as Cameron suggests, is that different cultures have contrasting ideas as to what constitutes virtue. Thus, what one culture considers virtuous, another may not. Consequently, we must be cautious about universal claims about virtue since, as the editors of this journal note, such claims may promote “WEIRD” thinking. ^{Footnote 19} Such thinking merely promotes a Westernized view of the world, ignoring how different cultures react in different ways to questions of virtuous conduct. And when corporations develop projects that fail to address local conditions then these projects are likely to falter, despite good intentions. ^{Footnote 20}

A corporation’s desire for global success can sometimes override its responsibility to others and have damaging long-term consequences. Consider, for example, what happened with the Samsung Galaxy 7, widely lauded upon its release as the best smartphone to reach the market. ^{Footnote 21} But problems with overheating led to some of these phones bursting into flames. Subsequently, airlines started to refuse to allow fliers to bring these phones on board. The cause of the problem, it appears, was battery malfunctions. Samsung executive D. J. Koh expressed how the company “feel[s] a painful responsibility for failing to test and confirm that there were problems in the design and manufacturing of batteries before we put the product out to the market.” ^{Footnote 22} What Samsung and external experts saw as a game changer did indeed change the game, but not as expected. In this case, instead of a star product, the company lost billions of dollars, many of its customers, and suffered a loss of face. ^{Footnote 23} Because of Samsung’s market strength nationally and globally, this company’s action not only affected the corporation and its customers, it was perceived as a humiliation for South Korea. ^{Footnote 24} Ignoring corporate responsibility can thus have widespread, detrimental repercussions.

In considering corporate responsibility, David Waldman and Benjamin Galvin take a different approach to responsible leadership, contrasting economic and stakeholder perspectives to ascertain which is most promising for organizational success. From an economic standpoint, these scholars argue leaders must first be accountable to shareholders. Such accountability means making strategic decisions calculated to best serve the shareholders’ interest. The problem here is that when a leader, or organization for that matter, thinks solely in terms of shareholder profit, it can lead to prioritizing short-term economic benefits over long-term considerations. For example, most research and development initiatives are costly endeavors that rarely show a financial benefit over the short term. When an organization focuses on short-term profit, the long-term benefits from R&D may be ignored. Thus, Waldman and Galvin argue that the stakeholder perspective is more promising than the economic perspective, because it encourages leaders to consider issues from diverse perspectives.

Although Waldman and Galvin suggest a stakeholder perspective is more robust than an economic view, leaders and their companies are judged on their economic success. ^{Footnote 25} If the fundamental purpose of a corporation is to maximize shareholder profits, corporate leaders who focus on relationship building rather than their balance sheets may find themselves out of a job. Unless we change the ways that corporations “do” business, it seems unlikely that most business leaders will sacrifice profit for the sake of ethics. The competitive demands of the marketplace, and the need for short-term profits, are significant factors influencing the actions of senior executives in organizations. ^{Footnote 26} And when economic factors trump ethical ones, then it is more difficult for leaders to act responsibly. Consequently, we need to balance ethics with efficiency if we are to encourage ethical leadership. ^{Footnote 27}

In addition, while it may be the case that it is more likely for a shareholder to be interested in profit than, say, an employee, it would be a mistake to label everyone in the same fashion. Although the discussion of multiple stakeholders is more inclusive than one that focuses solely on the economic imperative, it is still not rich enough to comprehend the complexity of what it might mean to lead responsibly. As Christian Voegtlin demonstrates, there is a lack of specificity regarding “the stakeholders’ expectations of a responsible leader, and of the challenges of behaving ethically and responsibly as a business leader.” ^{Footnote 28}

From an Arendtian perspective, there are other conceptual problems with a stakeholder-centered view. When we equate people with specific roles, we may fail to see them as unique human beings. Arendt states,

When we think about people in terms of specific roles, she contends, we ignore their distinctness. In doing so, we also lose a sense of the depth of human relationships, and this can lead to irresponsible action. In some cases, for instance, leaders view others as resources, rather than as unique individuals. ^{Footnote 30} When those in power view employees in this manner, it is easier to see employees as “thing like,” and thus easily expendable. The powerful, in turn, lose a sense of humanity.

The preceding section has reviewed key facets of responsible leadership theory and contrasted them with Arendtian ideas. The assumption that “responsible leadership” is broad enough to encompass the multiplicity of what it means to act responsibly is limiting to our understanding of this phenomenon. At this juncture, it may be useful to turn to Emmanuel Levinas whose work provides an alternative perspective for researchers interested in the connections among responsibility, ethics, and leadership.

LEVINAS AND ARENDT ON RESPONSIBILITY

Majella O’Leary suggests the turn to responsibility is a result of people’s frustration with fraudulent behavior in the corporate sector. ^{Footnote 31} But the demands of the economic imperative make it difficult for leaders to be genuine in their dealings with others. What is more, as David Knights and Majella O’Leary note, a preoccupation with self can obscure a leader’s ethical mindset. ^{Footnote 32} Yet, as Levinas shows us, “ethics cannot exist in the absence of responsibility to the other.” ^{Footnote 33} However, liberal individualism can, as Knights and O’Leary explain, obscure an understanding of intersubjective relationships, dulling our sense of responsibility for others. Further, a preoccupation with self, a result of solipsistic thinking, promotes self-interest at the expense of others’ welfare. This focus on self-interest reduces ethical sensibility. As a consequence, “egoistic self-interest overrides any concern with ethics.” ^{Footnote 34}

Conversely, Knights and O’Leary suggest that thinking with Levinas can inspire an ethical response. A Levinasian ethics is not a systemic or rule-based approach, but is flexible to fit with particular contexts. ^{Footnote 35} As such, a Levinasian ethic of responsibility might enhance the work environment, as Jen Jones argues, by revealing how we can engage in ethical encounters. ^{Footnote 36} Such encounters are predicated on active listening and enriched by communication. For Levinas, active listening means to engage without judging. Hence it would seem that his position is radically different than that of Arendt’s who, as we will see later, saw judgment as an important aspect of responsibility. Yet, as Ronald C. Arnett argues, Levinasian ethics is influenced by a concern for justice, as is Arendt’s, and “justice is continually tempered by reflections on ethics.” ^{Footnote 37} My responsibility to others is something, as Arnett notes, I choose to take up or ignore. Within a corporate environment, when I ignore another person’s plight, because I do not want to get involved insofar as doing so might hurt my reputation, we are putting our ethical responsibility at risk. In doing so, we not only act irresponsibly but also weaken our own humanity.

Because of his emphasis on ethics, Levinas helps to address questions of responsibility in ways Arendt does not. For instance, he argues that the face of the Other constitutes their truth. ^{Footnote 38} Chris Ketcham suggests that although individual leaders may be responsible and open to the Other, this does not mean that everyone in an organization will be so receptive. ^{Footnote 39} He questions whether it is even possible for an organization to do what Levinas asks, that is, put the Other before itself. Further, what would this kind of altruistic action mean in business terms? These are important questions that business ethicists need to consider before accepting the idea that a Levinasian notion of responsibility has practical applications.

While agreeing with Ketcham that Levinas has high ideals, Jen Jones contends that his thinking is grounded in the realities of daily existence. ^{Footnote 40} She uses the notion of organizational dwelling to illustrate how thinking with Levinas offers opportunities to engage in new ways of organizing. Dwelling, Jones argues, can become “a necessary ground upon which leaders may cultivate responsible organizations.” ^{Footnote 41} Cultivating responsible relationships can enrich organizational culture and, hopefully, encourage ethical action.

Levinas and Arendt have much to offer business ethics, particularly in relation to thinking about questions of responsibility and leadership. Both view responsibility as a relational concept. For Levinas, ethics is about the self assuming responsibility for the Other. For Arendt, responsibility entails a broader political commitment. Levinas placed emphasis on the ethical issues that arise between self and other, whereas Arendt emphasizes our collective responsibility to care for the world. Exploring how their work is complementary may help us rethink the interconnections among ethics, responsibility, and leadership in productive ways.

From an Arendtian perspective, it is not enough to focus on leaders, or even responsible acts. To gain a deeper understanding, we must also consider followers’ responses. In this way, we will gain a greater comprehension of the myriad ways in which leadership, ethics, and responsibility interrelate. At this point, turning to Arendt’s account of the distinction among leadership, leaders, and mastery may prove insightful.

ARENDT ON LEADERSHIP, LEADERS, AND MASTERY

For Arendt, leadership at its best arises when people come together over common cause, and discover their collective strength. It is through this collective strength, for example, that a small group of activists can overthrow a dictatorship. Fundamental to an Arendtian notion of leadership is the connection between freedom and collective action. For Arendt, freedom finds a space to emerge as a result of people acting in concert. ^{Footnote 42} Historical exemplars of this form of leadership include the worker councils that flourished in nineteenth and early twentieth-century Europe, and the American town hall gatherings in the eighteenth century. ^{Footnote 43} What makes these gatherings important is that people came together to dialogue and debate about matters of interest. Today, we might see the groundswell of public action that led to the New Zealand government’s ban of the practice of zero-hour contracts ^{Footnote 44} as an example of positive change that occurs when a group of people work collectively to overcome structural injustice. When people come together in this manner, Arendt maintains that a leader emerges organically to become primus inter pares, first among equals. In turn, the leader is “empowered by a certain number of people to act in their name.” ^{Footnote 45}

Although Arendt admired certain leaders—Winston Churchill for example ^{Footnote 46} —she expressed her disdain for the emphasis on the heroic leader, because it introduces a hierarchy into human relationships. She traces the distinction between our modern notion of the primacy of the individual leader, and a more collective view of leadership, back to Plato. Following the death of Socrates, Plato wanted to build a society founded upon laws to assuage the contingency of action. In his account, the criterion of fitness for ruling others became “the capacity to rule one’s self.” ^{Footnote 47} Yet Arendt contends this focus on the self led to “the fallacy of the strong man who is powerful because he is alone.” ^{Footnote 48}

Instead of regarding a leader as simply primus inter pares in this new iteration, sovereignty usurps plurality. ^{Footnote 49} This focus on the individual leader is a problem, states Arendt, because “the ideal of uncompromising self-sufficiency and mastership is contradictory to the very condition of plurality.” ^{Footnote 50} In other words, this is not leadership, but mastery. Thinking about leadership as mastery is derived from the hierarchical familial relationships of private life. ^{Footnote 51} She maintains that philosophers such as Plato and Aristotle superimposed this hierarchical structure onto political life. But this structure is a perversion of the political, because it is based upon hierarchical ways of thinking about human relationships.

Rather than the collective equality Arendt considers emblematic of leadership, the leader is often conceived as someone who envisions something which others then execute. Yet, in her view,

In this section, we have distinguished between an Arendtian conception of leadership as a collective endeavour, the rise of the individual leader, and the notion of leadership as mastery. The modern preoccupation with individual leaders obscures what Arendt views as the original meaning of leadership as collective action. A focus on the individual leader can be to the detriment of others, and may encourage irresponsible and unethical leadership practices.

In what follows, we examine Arendt’s argument that there are different types of responsibility and how responsibility connects to questions of guilt. This discussion seeks to illuminate some complexities regarding our understanding of responsibility. In turn, this illumination may shed light on our understanding of the interconnections among leadership, ethics, and responsibility.

RESPONSIBILITY AND GUILT

For Arendt, individual responsibility has three distinct aspects. First, responsibility requires us to imagine different viewpoints than our own. Training “one’s imagination to go visiting,” ^{Footnote 53} she tells us, enables us to enlarge our understanding of a situation, which is crucial to our ability to formulate our own view and judge accordingly. It is this willingness to judge for ourselves that is the second distinct aspect of individual responsibility. The third aspect of individual responsibility relates to our willingness to act and to be willing to suffer for those actions if need be.

Further, Arendt distinguishes between collective responsibility and collective guilt. She contends the latter term is nonsensical because if everyone is guilty, then no one is. ^{Footnote 54} In her view, guilt is always personal whereas collective responsibility is always plural, and hence, political. Collective responsibility concerns membership in a particular group with whom we have shared interests. However, saying we are collectively guilty for the historical sins of the past can lead to phony sentiments. Consider how the governments of Australia and Canada made public apologies to their indigenous peoples. These governments admitted that past governments, and many non-indigenous citizens, benefited from the poor treatment of indigenous peoples. Because non-indigenous citizens benefited from this mistreatment, they are deemed collectively responsible. Yet individual citizens cannot be held personally guilty for past acts they did not directly commit. Although we may wonder whether these government apologies are a sufficient response to past harms suffered by indigenous peoples, ^{Footnote 55} the point is that, for Arendt, there is a clear distinction between political responsibilities, which are collective, and moral or legal guilt, which pertains to individual acts.

However, the ability to distinguish between notions of guilt and responsibility is complex. This complexity arises, Arendt argues, from the ambiguity with which we use terms like “morals” and “ethics.” ^{Footnote 56} Originally, these terms referred to customary practices within a particular society. Only later did they refer to the appropriate conduct of a citizen. From Aristotle through to Cicero, ethical conduct was related to acting appropriately, especially in connection with political life. Christianity was to change the relationship between politics and morality. Instead of being linked with political virtues, Arendt contends that morality became connected to the private self, specifically, to conscience. This shift explains why so many early Christians were reluctant to enter the political arena, preferring to take care of their souls. Yet this concern with one’s soul is, she says, “profoundly unpolitical. For at the centre of politics lies concern for the world, not for man.” ^{Footnote 57} Arendt wants us to spend less time thinking about our mortal salvation and more time considering how our actions are good for the world we live in.

In this section, we see not only how complex the idea of responsibility is, but also how notions of responsibility relate to ideas of guilt. What is clear, for Arendt, is that if we spend too much time fixated on ourselves, this fixation can lead us to refuse to take part in public affairs. In sum, too much focus on individual morality may be irresponsible, since it can lead to a refusal to assist others.

ETHICAL ACTION

When we act, we need to be cognizant of how those actions may affect others. Yet what constitutes ethical action for Arendt is complex and, at times, contradictory. On the one hand, she argues that ethical action is something we learn by being guided by others. On the other, she contends that acting ethically is not about good intentions, because we can never know the outcome of those intentions when we act upon them. This is one reason why Arendt insists that ethics should be divorced from politics. She follows Machiavelli in arguing that it does not matter what the political actor thinks is good; what matters is whether that action is good for the world.

Many have disagreed with Arendt’s distinction between ethics and politics, ^{Footnote 58} but does it have any merit? For example, Angela Merkel’s decision to accept over a million Syrian refugees into Germany was widely considered to be a courageous and principled act. However, Merkel’s humanitarian gesture may, inadvertently, have influenced far-right-wing parties to promote xenophobia, encouraging ordinary citizens to do likewise. In short, good intentions, once realized in the world, do not necessarily lead to positive outcomes. At the same time, being willing to act and bring something new into the world is, for Arendt, a crucial element of ethical action.

In her discussion of action’s indeterminateness, Arendt draws upon Aristotle’s distinction between poiēsis (making) and praxis (action). For Aristotle, praxis is close to performance, whereas poiēsis is about production. Therefore, poiēsis is an act with a predetermined outcome. In contrast, praxis is an activity without a fixed end. Although a person may have a purpose in mind when they act, however, due to contingency, no one can determine where that action will lead. From an Arendtian perspective, praxis does not make anything, because this is the job of poiēsis. ^{Footnote 59}

Alejo José G. Sison argues that “leadership is akin to action or praxis, and is thus superior to poiēsis.” ^{Footnote 60} Because of the boundless nature of action, the full extent of a leader’s acts cannot be foreseen or controlled in the manner in which we construct a building. To offer a concrete example, no one can make America great again, in the manner that President Trump suggests, because this is to confuse action with the instrumental activity of making. From an Arendtian point of view, there are no absolute guarantees since this ignores how we are always acting in the world, and others are responding to our actions. A case in point would be the millions of men and women across the globe who protested following the inauguration of the forty-fifth President of the United States of America, illustrating Michel Foucault’s observation that where there is power, there is always resistance. ^{Footnote 61} On this point, Arendt would be in full agreement.

In this section, we have seen how Arendt insists we can never know the full extent of our actions, because we live in a contingent world. For her, to act is also to suffer. To assuage such suffering caused by action, we need the dual aspects of promising and forgiving. In promising, we carry out our pledges to others. Promises are our way of coping with action’s unpredictability. Through forgiveness, we excuse those who did not mean to cause harm. ^{Footnote 62} Moreover, forgiveness and promising are linked temporally, linking our actions with past, present, and future. As such, promising and forgiving are an integral component of an ethical response, because they enable us to deal with the potential problems that may arise from our actions.

In the following section, there is an examination of how failing to reflect on one’s actions can prove fatal for others. For our purposes, we will see how unethical action is a result of thoughtlessness, combined with an unwavering support for a leader. In both cases, a total lack of individual responsibility encourages unethical and, in some cases, violent action.

EICHMANN, THOUGHTLESSNESS, AND OBEDIENCE

Hired by the New Yorker, Arendt travelled to Israel to cover the trial of the Nazi war criminal Adolf Eichmann. Her subsequent report on his trial created a furor because of her argument that, rather than being an evil maniac, Eichmann’s brand of evil arose from his banality. Reflecting upon the controversy surrounding her report, Arendt notes her critics raised moral issues she had not anticipated. ^{Footnote 63} Some critics accused her of being a self-hating Jew, because she wrote about the failure of some Jewish leaders to do everything in their power to help other Jews. Other critics argued that to judge others is wrong since, under such circumstances, each of us might act dishonorably. Arendt disagrees, arguing that a refusal to judge for oneself is a failure of personal responsibility.

In refusing to judge for ourselves, Arendt maintains we mistake obedience for consent. Obedience is a problem, she argues, because it can lead us to submit to whatever leaders ask of us. Without followers’ faithful adherence to a leader’s commands, few leaders could accomplish heinous acts. Arendt asserts that “an ardent desire to obey and be ruled by some strong man is at least as prominent in human psychology as the will to power.” ^{Footnote 64} She expressed her astonishment when Eichmann professed to have followed Kant’s categorical imperative. In carrying out his duties, he followed the “Fuhrerprinzip,” which, Eichmann argued, was the law of the land. Thus, Eichmann contended not only was his action justified; it was in accordance with Kantian logic. Arendt dismisses Eichmann’s claim, arguing his obedience was a result of thoughtlessness and a lack of judgment.

Unthinking obedience ignores our responsibility to judge for ourselves. When people start to justify their actions by saying that if they did not carry out a particular order, someone else would, we fall into a moral abyss. For Arendt, it is those willing to act contrary to societal dictates that are more likely to act responsibly. Such action requires us to judge for ourselves, because moral standards may be corrupted by an immoral system masquerading as a just one. Consequently, we cannot just adopt societal mores as guides for ethical decision making. Rather, responsible action requires us to think independently.

Hence, Arendt maintains it was not social conformists, but people who refused to conform that did their best to halt Nazi atrocities. In such a crisis, people “had to decide each instance as it arose, because no rules existed for the unprecedented.” ^{Footnote 65} These non-conformists refused to harm another person, thus illustrating the Socratic maxim that it is better not to do wrong because one could not bear the consequences of living with oneself. Moreover, she argues, “a strong disinclination to obey is often accompanied by an equally strong disinclination to dominate and command.” ^{Footnote 66} Consequently, non-conformists are important to a flourishing society since they are unwilling to go along with others without taking the time to reflect upon ethical issues with regard to such compliance. (Here we may think of how whistle-blowers in corporations have often led to a change in corporate policies.)

Arendt maintains that social conformity constitutes a way of ruling that serves to negate human flourishing. In her view, the negative effects of social conformism increased due to social changes that occurred in eighteenth-century Western Europe as a result of the transition from a feudal to a bourgeois society. ^{Footnote 67} In particular, the rise of bourgeois society led to what she describes as a tendency toward no-man rule. This form of ruling encouraged people to conform to societal dictates. For Arendt, social conformity further intensified in modernity. As she states, “modern equality based on the conformism inherent in society [is] possible only because behaviour has replaced action as the foremost mode of human relationship.” ^{Footnote 68} Such privileging of behaviour over action may result in a refusal to take personal responsibility not only for one’s actions, but also for the lives of others. As such, this move toward social conformism is damaging to human flourishing.

If we are to reinvigorate our ethical sense of responsibility then it is necessary to consider alternative ways of conceptualizing what it means to be responsible in diverse contexts. One way to help us may be through an investigation of what Arendt described as the life of the mind.

THINKING, WILLING, AND JUDGING

Arendt begins The Life of the Mind by asking whether the activity of thinking conditions us against evildoing. In addressing this question, she shows how understanding the three basic faculties of the mind—that is, thinking, willing, and judging—may provide insight into why people act irresponsibly and, at times, commit evil acts.

To begin, Arendt argues that although thinking never makes an appearance in the phenomenal world, thinking is connected to experience since “every thought is an afterthought, a reflection on some matter or event.” ^{Footnote 69} By this she means our thoughts are always in touch with the world in some fashion because we are embedded in “a web of relationships.” ^{Footnote 70} She distinguishes between cognitive and reflective thought, seeing the former as useful to knowledge and the latter as critical to understanding. Engaging in reflection enables us to do what Arendt calls “the stop and think,” meaning to think through a problem from different perspectives. Following Kant, she contends that reflective thinking “is not the prerogative of the few but an ever-present faculty of everybody.” ^{Footnote 71} Conversely, an inability to reflect is “the ever-present possibility for everybody to shun that intercourse with oneself.” ^{Footnote 72} Reflective intercourse is, for Arendt, an ethical response that demonstrates our willingness to consider a problem from diverse perspectives. What reflective thinking does is to prepare the way for decision making where I judge the appropriateness of engaging in a particular activity or taking up a position on an issue.

Reflective thinking, as Arendt understands it, is not about obtaining specific results but about obtaining greater understanding. Conversely, an unwillingness to think for oneself, such as when we abide by societal rules without considering their implication, is a problem because we are not always aware of whether those rules are just. (As we saw earlier, for Arendt, this is the problem with obedience.) She urges us to think for ourselves, and use our imaginations to consider a problem more thoroughly. Yet “the quest for meaning, which relentlessly dissolves and examines anew all accepted doctrines and rules, can at any moment turn against itself.” ^{Footnote 73} As such, Arendt declares “there are no dangerous thoughts; thinking itself is dangerous.” ^{Footnote 74} The reason why thinking is dangerous is because our thoughts are unpredictable. Therefore, we cannot know where our thoughts will lead or whether our thinking is likely to be productive. Thinking is in contrast to the second feature of the life of the mind, namely, willing.

For Arendt, willing was a central feature of Christian ethics. Beginning with the writings of St. Paul, disobedience becomes man’s greatest moral sin, while obedience became the ethical foundation of Christian teaching. Christian ethics emphasizes self-knowledge which, in turn, altered ideas regarding human freedom. Arendt writes:

This focus on the will meant that early Christian philosophers, such as Augustine, began asking questions concerning the inward life. He writes, for example, “I have become a question for myself,” a query Arendt contends early Greek philosophers did not engage in, since the inner life, or subjectivity as we understand it, only became of interest with Christianity. ^{Footnote 76} In Augustine’s view, the will is monstrous since, while the mind commands the body, it cannot command the will. Additionally, he argued every man is a new beginning with the capacity to will to do something or not. Building on Augustine, Arendt maintains that “spontaneity is part and parcel of the human condition. Its mental organ is the Will.” ^{Footnote 77} So our understanding of human agency, then, is connected to our thinking about the will.

The important aspect pertinent for this discussion is that individual will places a greater emphasis on self at the expense of human relationships and thinking about the world more generally. Too much emphasis on the will encourages us to focus on our personal desires without considering the effects on others, which can lead to irresponsible action. Consider, for example, how Maak, Pless, and Voegtlin argue that a significant factor in enhancing responsible leadership is for CEOs to place their organization’s fiduciary responsibility first. ^{Footnote 78} Yet a new report by researchers at the University of Lancaster found that “the median FTSE 350 company generated little in the way of a meaningful economic profit over the period 2003-2014.” ^{Footnote 79} At the same time, senior executive pay increased by more than 80%. Now if a CEO’s foremost responsibility is the corporation’s financial health, would it not make more sense to take a smaller salary until the company is in better financial health? Here is where the desire for success in personal financial terms may actually obscure the judgment of senior executives. For Arendt, judging is a responsible act because it requires us to consider diverse viewpoints rather than focus on our own desires.

Having the courage to judge is crucial to an Arendtian ethical worldview. Her comments on judgment build upon Kant’s Third Critique. ^{Footnote 80} Concentrating on the notion of individual taste—that is, why we like some things and not others—she rethinks Kantian ideas in an unusual, and some have argued idiosyncratic, manner. ^{Footnote 81} Arendt argues that Kantian judgment differs from practical reason since “practical reason ‘reasons’ and tells me what to do and what not to do; it lays down the law and is identical with the will, and the will utters commands; it speaks in imperatives.” ^{Footnote 82} Arendt distinguishes between the will as the voice of command and that of judgment which, she argues, arises out of a contemplative pleasure. ^{Footnote 83} The will is concerned with the self whereas, Arendt contends, judging requires us to take into account different perspectives. As she states “the more people’s positions I can make present in my thought and hence take into account in my judgment, the more representative it will be.” ^{Footnote 84} By imagining an issue from different perspectives, we are better able to respond in a more responsible manner to the situation at hand. For Arendt, judgment is the political faculty par excellence; it helps us not only to decide on the best course of action but also to have a measured response to circumstances. In summation, Arendt’s distinctions among thinking, willing, and judging help us to understand why it may be that we act irresponsibly. What is clear is that, from an Arendtian perspective, to act responsibly, we need to engage in reflective thought and have the courage to judge for ourselves.

To offer a concrete example of what could be called poor judgment, it might prove worthwhile to examine the United Kingdom’s 2016 referendum decision to leave the European Union (hereafter Brexit). Brexit illustrates Arendt’s concern regarding the effects of lying and irresponsibility in politics. This example also illustrates how essential it is to be willing to judge an issue from multiple perspectives.

LYING, IRRESPONSIBILITY, AND POLITICS

In the Brexit campaign, there were many examples of irresponsible leadership and poor judgment. We might start with the ill-judged action of Britain’s former Prime Minister, David Cameron, in seeking the referendum in the first place. But there were more egregious examples of irresponsibility. Let us take but one example. The “Leave” team, whose leaders included Boris Johnson (former Mayor of London) and Nigel Farage, (ex-leader of the United Kingdom Independence party) adopted the slogan: “We send the EU £50 million a day, let’s fund our NHS instead.” ^{Footnote 85} This slogan was wrapped around a red bus, and served as the backdrop for media photographs. However, this statement is factually incorrect. The figure of £50m is a gross figure for the UK’s contribution to the European Union, out of which the UK gets an automatic rebate of £74m per week. ^{Footnote 86} Furthermore, the remaining monies are used as subsidies for farmers, university researchers, and aid payments to particular regions. When pressed by various reporters, the Leave team admitted that their figures were incorrect, yet this did not stop them from continuing to use this false slogan on advertisements.

For their part, it is often easier for voters to believe in simple slogans than to take time to consider the factual content of political discourse. This lack of interrogation of political discourse is irresponsible since, as Arendt might argue, citizens are not doing due diligence in assessing the factual content of a claim. In their defence, one could argue that it becomes difficult for citizens to ascertain the truth when politicians are so keen to ignore the facts or to provide us with alternative ones. In ignoring facts, politicians are acting irresponsibly and encouraging citizens to do likewise. Some members of the media are also behaving irresponsibly in their assertion that we live in a “post truth” world. All this assertion does, as the philosopher Charles Taylor reminds us, is to encourage “magical thinking” ^{Footnote 87} where factual evidence is perceived as less important than personal opinion.

The example from Brexit shows the powerful effects of political irresponsibility, both by leaders and citizens. Such irresponsibility has a major effect on the ethical well-being of a nation. Arendt argues that lying dominates the political landscape. Such deceit can have serious repercussions on people’s ability to grasp the difference between truth and falsehood. ^{Footnote 88} Citizens fail in their responsibility to protect the political space when they are not prepared to do due diligence and assess a situation from different perspectives. Conversely, through judging, we can “enlarge our mentality” and take into account diverse views so as to judge a situation for ourselves in an enriched manner. Such enrichment is a result of our being willing to consider the perspectives of others.

Arendt reminds us that each “man has his own doxa, his own opening to the world.” ^{Footnote 89} That is, each of us views a situation slightly differently, as a result of our unique experiences, as well as our culture, and identity. Allowing people to express themselves is critical to a flourishing public space. But when we invite others to speak their minds, they may say things that we do not agree with or find abhorrent. Such is the paradox we face when we allow diverse opinions to be voiced. The way of dealing with this paradox is by people recognizing that violence has no place in the public realm. As such, each of us has a responsibility to voice our opinions in a way that is not harmful to another. A plurality of perspectives is critical to human flourishing because, as Arendt reminds us, it is “far easier to act under conditions of tyranny than it is to think.” ^{Footnote 90}

DISCUSSION, IMPLICATIONS, AND FUTURE DIRECTIONS

In a special issue dedicated to philosophical approaches to leadership ethics it may appear something of a contradiction to discuss problems one thinker sees with a philosophical turn. Yet turning to Arendt can enrich our thinking about what constitutes responsible leadership, not because she is unaware of philosophical arguments, but rather because she is so immersed in them. Even when critiquing philosophy, her approach is always philosophically grounded. Arendt’s phenomenological approach allows her to build on the work of philosophers she admired, such as Kant and Socrates, while also revealing problems with philosophical accounts that privilege solipsistic thinking. What is missing, she maintains, is a broader understanding of ethics that starts not from our care for the self, but rather from our care for the world. In trying to define what good leadership might be, Arendt argues we restrict our thinking. That may be so, but it leaves us without a firm foundation from which to think about what constitutes good leadership.

In thinking with Arendt, we see how important it is to consider responsibility from multiple perspectives. But how else might we apply her political ideas to business ethics? Graham K. Henning argues that one fruitful approach may be to rethink business as an Arendtian polis. (Of course, cynics might argue we need to rethink the polis to be less like a business.) Such rethinking, Henning argues, would require establishing greater trust between senior executives and other employees. In his view, “empowerment and good management practices are not simply nice to have, they are important for the freedom of human beings and for good corporate functioning.” ^{Footnote 91} Good corporate practices not only enhance employees’ working environment, these practices make economic as well as ethical sense.

Responsible leadership, as with so many other leadership theories, is a theory of the good. Such theories are often well meaning but lacking in complexity. This lack may be one reason why Kempster and Carroll call for new approaches to responsible leadership that examine “the shortfalls of traditional ways of thinking about leadership, alongside new possibilities for its redefinition and redevelopment.” ^{Footnote 92} Corporate leaders must acknowledge their responsibility to others. Such acknowledgement is not just responsible; it has far-reaching potential to enable the kind of “global good” that Maak and Pless advocate for in their theory of responsible leadership. What will be crucial, however, is to ensure this kind of revitalization occurs. For that to happen, we need the will of governments as well as corporations and citizens. Is such a transformation possible? It seems unlikely. Yet, Arendt suggests that the future is always different from what we might imagine. That is why, in her view, we need to have collective hope in humanity. As such, developing potential frameworks that privilege ethical considerations over economic deliberations, or at least bring the two into harmony, is not a bad place to craft a new beginning.

Thinking with Arendt provides us with rich material from which we can build upon the nascent theory of responsible leadership. Specifically, her emphasis on leadership as collective action enables us to consider the interconnections among ethics, responsibility, and leadership in novel ways. Of course, Arendt might say this is not a new paradigm, but rather a reaching back to the essence of leadership, to what we have long known, but collectively forgotten.

If there is an essential Arendtian view of leadership, it is to view leadership as collective action. Such action emerges from the heart of life in all its expansive and messy disarray, not as consensus, but as a comingling of viewpoints. As Ronald C. Arnett notes, encouraging robust public dialogue does not equate to consensus even, or perhaps especially, when we deal with controversial issues. ^{Footnote 93} Such a robust dialogue is good in an Arendtian sense because it allows for the richness of human plurality to shine forth. But that richness needs also to be tempered by a respect for the Other, as Levinas reminds us. And, for Arendt, this is where reflection and judgment may help us to act more responsibly.

Arendt maintains that reflection is important to individual judgment. Reflecting upon a problem enables us to judge a particular issue from a multiplicity of angles. In so doing, we may be able to act in a more responsible and responsive manner. That said, no one judges well on every occasion. ^{Footnote 94} What is important is that we are courageous enough to make an individual judgment, even when it is likely to prove unpopular. Engaging in reflection may help us to develop the kind of judgment that leads to responsible and ethical action. But we must also recognize that we have a responsibility not just to voice our own perspective, but to honour that of others.

It has been asserted here that responsibility—both collective and individual—is an important dimension of leadership ethics. Arendt’s work can add richness to our ethical discussions. She implores us to think carefully about our theoretical assumptions, as well as our own praxis. This engagement with Arendt is not intended to be the last word on the topic. Rather, the aim is to encourage others to join me in considering leadership, ethics, and responsibility through an Arendtian lens. Her work has much to offer, allowing us to explore leadership inquiry and business ethics in new and productive ways.

Arendt reminds us that our collective task is to care for the world before ourselves. Yet, arguably, we are living at a time of mastership, as many leaders place self-interest before the well-being of others. She viewed the political as the arena where we have the greatest potential for human flourishing. Yet what we witness on our global stage is too much grandstanding and narcissism on behalf of political and corporate leaders. In turn, many individuals refuse to take the time to reflect and use their judgment to ascertain the difference between fact and opinion. This collective failure of judgment has dire implications for our ability to care for each other.

By way of conclusion, in a letter to her friend, Meieir Cronenmeyer, Arendt writes, “it really is important to me to create the foundations of a new political morality although out of modesty I never did say so explicitly.” ^{Footnote 95} Such a political morality requires us to show through our actions how much we care, not just for ourselves, but for others and the world. If we love the world, as Arendt certainly did, then it behooves us to take responsibility, not only for what we do, but also for what we leave undone.