Leadership and Social Contractarianism

3.2.3 Leadership and Social Contractarianism

It is important to distinguish between military leadership and contractarianism as it exists in small and large groups. Individuals can influence self-forming activity for one another in small military units in ways that can either support or undermine the espoused moral code. Although this social milieu still mediates individual deliberation and limits options for acceptable behaviour (Winslow, 2004), it nevertheless introduces an element of unpredictability in the broader institutional power-knowledge network. This factor will be discussed below in the section on military culture in Chapter 4. Here, leadership and contractarianism are viewed as a moral code intended to guide the interactions between executives and the rank and file in larger groups within the bureaucracy.

It is also necessary to understand that the individual’s behaviour, even in a position of highest authority, has little effect on the institutional as a whole. In their studies of organizational behaviour, however, Coens and Jenkins (2000) argue that group effort is the most important factor in institutional performance whereas the contribution of any one individual is not even measurable. Instead of leadership, for example, executives in large bureaucracies are more concerned with peer driven self-interest. Their selves “must be understood in a context of habits, institutions, and operative rules of thumb” (Schroeder 1998: 622). Foucault (1995: 195-230), in agreement with new theories of organizational behaviour, believes that government and military leaders, rather than lead, only preside over a self-sustaining bureaucracy. Nevertheless, the selection of goals and attempts to solve problems are credited to

executives in positions of authority. As power-knowledge webs, bureaucracies reduce the likelihood for personal initiative. Bureaucracy might mitigate the risk of individual incompetence, but does little to involve executives or the rank and file to work toward the relevance and legitimacy of the institution.

Recent research in military affairs suggests that the role of leadership is indeed oversold and romanticized (CSIS Report, 1999: 7). Specialized military functions and the waning of symmetrical

warfare, among other factors, have limited the options available for would-be leaders (Booth, 2001: 468, 473; English, 2001: 2, 99). Cotton (1997) says that people “cannot lead complex institutions armed only with charisma, political skills, and a few simple precepts: truth, duty and valour, integrity, etcetera.” Thus, the relationship between executives and the rank-and-file is more accurately one of social

contractarianism rather than leadership.

Leadership and social contractarianism are combined in the concept of transformational

leadership. When the term gained prominence during the 1970s, it was presented as a style where leaders and followers are considered “inextricably bound together” and a process that would meet the moral and material needs of both (Northouse, 2007: 176). The transformational, or charismatic, leader appeals to the followers’ emotions and imagination to help the latter identify and nurture their moral values and

individual goals. Transformational institutions are expected to generate enthusiasm and align the interests of the rank and file with those of the executives. The Canadian Forces Leadership Institute’s Leadership Manual endorses the theory as a means “to alter the characteristics of individuals, organizations, or societies in a fairly dramatic or substantial way” (CFLI, 2005: 23). The authors remarks that that transformational techniques are “anchored in the values of the military ethos” and among the time-honoured methods of “superior leadership” (CFLI, 2005: 23). They note that these have always included

“inspirational appeals which arouse emotions or make professional values salient,” and help in the establishment of “behavioural norms” (CFLI, 2005: 22, 23).

Critics, however, question the right of leaders to set moral priorities and the role of the inevitable element of self-interest (Northouse, 2007: 348). For example, Snyder (1987) says transformational leadership lends itself to a frequent and amoral use of impression management. McKendall (1992) believes that a dominating normative role played by those at the top of the hierarchy can render an organization non-adaptive by stifling creativity. Howell and Avolio (1992) warn that a transformational executive cadre will often pose as saviours to disguise domination, blame laying, and egoism.

Transformational institutions, they continue, also keep followers in a state of dependency and in

competition with one another. Bernard M. Bass, a prominent theorist in the field, has two books listed in

the Leadership Manual’s bibliography, i.e., Bass and Stodgill (1990) and Bass and Avolio (1994) (CFLI, 2005: 43). In a later article, Bass and Steidlmeier (1999) respond to criticisms about the ethics of

transformational leadership. The authors acknowledge that since the transformational model touches upon key Western, ethical issues such as “liberty, utility, and distributive justice...” as well as “trust,” it

becomes necessary to distinguish between moral “authentic transformational leadership,” and immoral

“pseudo-transformational leadership” (Bass, Steidlmeier, 1999: 181). Unethical transformational appeals, they note, can include “impression management” that lead to “‘spin,’ deceit, and self-glorification” (Bass, Steidlmeier, 1999: 196-197). Attempts to rally support via projections of “identity images” “of strength and decisiveness,” could go too far and become unethical overstatements of strength and appeals to fantasy and flattery. Such problems notwithstanding, the authors insist that executives can be trusted to determine a just “timing of the release of information” and choose among “absolute truth telling, the shading of the facts, and the big lies; between emotional and intellectual appeals; and between objectivity and advocacy.” Despite the potential for manipulation, Bass and Steidlmeier nevertheless conclude that the difference between authentic and pseudo-transformational leadership really depends on whether rank and file willingly grant charisma and admiration to executives, or whether they suspect their superiors are acting for “self-aggrandizement” as coordinated by their “handlers.” In the end, they admit that

throughout history the difference between ethical and unethical leaders has been “riddled with falsity and pretence,” and is a challenge not unlike that of distinguishing between true and false prophets (Bass, Steidlmeier, 1999: 196-197). Their solution, however, is a repeat of the basic moral code found in Duty with Honour. The authors exhort readers to have faith in the “virtue of trustworthiness,” whereby ordinary people will have their interests protected if they are prepared to trust the executives (Bass, Steidlmeier, 1999: 204-205). On that point, Duty with Honour asserts that leaders at all levels “are at the heart of military professionalism,” exhibit “unassailable integrity,” make decisions that “reflect an honest and truthful assessment of the situation,” and “act courageously, both physically but more especially, morally”

especially “when the tension between achieving the mission and ensuring the well-being of subordinates is high” (CFLI, 2003: 55, 56). Under the code of professionalism, recall, individuals are obliged to protect

the integrity of the institution, not their own, and otherwise are to maintain the priority of state interests.

In effect, the rank and file are to suspend the independent sense of judgment they are expected to hone through professional development and by their warrior’s honour.

The social contract is weighed heavily in favour of the state. Upon joining, the individual is expected to forfeit irrevocably most of their options for free volition. For example, it is assumed that military personnel “serve voluntarily and, as such, willingly accept the statutory authority of the chain of command to compel members to perform any lawful duty at any time” (CFLI, 2003: 20). The Canadian Forces can discriminate in matters of employment according to a blanket exception included in the Canadian Human Rights Act requiring that military persons “must at all times and under any

circumstances perform any functions that they may be required to perform” (CHRA, 1982: art 15(9)). In exchange, the state is not legally bound by any agreement. Duty with Honour states that “conditions of military service give rise to a set of reciprocal expectations between the profession and society” and the government is supposed to acknowledge “certain formal obligations to service members” via an

“unwritten social contract” (CFLI, 2003: 44). In 2003, the manual notes that a parliamentary committee intending to underline the importance of such reciprocity characterized the obligations vaguely, but emphatically, as a “national commitment – in essence a moral commitment” (CFLI, 2003: 44. Italics in original). The obligations they mentioned, however, are modest in comparison to what is expected in return. The individual is to be entitled to physical care and a promise of adequate pay, housing, community services, career progression, and veterans care. The government “took note” of the

committee’s recommendation but went no further regarding enforcement and oversight (CFLI, 2003: 45).

Significantly, the contract was left unwritten. In practice, even these commitments are routinely abrogated in response to fiscal concerns, such as government spending deficit in the mid-1990s (English, 2001).

Another wage freeze is scheduled for the fiscal years 2011-2012 and 2012-2013 according to the Federal government’s 2010 Budget announced on March 4, 2010 (GoC, 2010f). The rank and file have no means of bargaining over compensation and benefits and have no access to the rationale, supporting statistics, and other calculations related to the expenditures affecting their welfare.

The Leadership Manual and Bass and Steidlmeier contrast “transformational” leadership with

“transactional” leadership. Transactional contractarianism, a more accurate term, relies on widely understood rewards and punishments and appeals to reason in place of emotion and enthusiasm (Bass, Steidlmeier, 1999: 184). In theory, it is an alternative to irrational incitement that can induce the rank and file to act against their interests (Stevens, D’Intino, Victor, 1995). Transactional contractarianism is also associated with checks and balances that lessen the likelihood of exploitation of subordinates by

executives (Keeley, 1995). The book will return to the distinction between transformational leadership and transactional contractarianism later during the discussion of telos and when making recommendations for reform of the military institution.

3.3 Knowledge

Moral codes are one of many forms of knowledge that turn the themes of statism and bureaucracy into guides for ethical behaviour, or to use Foucault’s term, modes of subjection. Knowledge, as it applies to Foucault and the military’s ethics, also includes the official and unofficial, as well as the tacit and explicit use of law, medicine, communications, politics, finance, and many other elements in modern Western society. The discourse of statism interacts with non-discursive factors such as technology, human behavioural patterns, and the natural world, with human and non-human elements often of equal

importance (Kendall and Wickham, 1999: 42-48, 95). The remainder of this chapter describes how statism becomes content for bureaucracies concerned with the teaching of military history,

memorialization, and publicity. For these knowledges, statism is expressed as a collection of preferred historical narratives that are frequently repeated, slightly rephrased, and reduced to iconic simplicity. In Society Must Be Defended, Foucault (2003) describes how groups construct historical narratives for use as a weapon in state and inter-state politics. Narratives, he says, are “a sort of discursive weapon that could be used by all the adversaries present within the political field” and as “a discursive tactic” that

“eventually becomes the law governing the formation of a knowledge” (Foucault, 2003: 189). They coalesce around a cluster of personalities, events, and other symbolic elements and are promoted as a

claim to superior moral legitimacy. It is normally a contested site where several groups compete to establish a dominant historical narrative. Whereas ethical substance and fundamental discourses can be stable for decades and even centuries, Foucault believed historical narratives are sometimes fragile and easily questioned (Foucault, 2003: 54-55). As the competition for historical narrative supremacy intensifies, however, the parties often become more entrenched and strident in favour of their versions, thus increasing the likelihood of being disproved. The struggle between the proponents of combat and peacekeeping expeditions in Canada has already been mentioned. The narratives examined in this section relate to the WWI attack on Vimy Ridge, the lionizing of WWI fighter ace Billy Bishop, and the WWII raid on Dieppe. They are among the most prominent military events that have been the subject of much dispute in Canada while retaining their power to act as rallying points and political instruments for identifiable groups. Despite indisputable and widely available information to the contrary, their meaning and significance are almost always interpreted as when first contrived. The three narratives are also good illustrations of the tension in the moral code surrounding the techniques of transformational leadership and between selflessness and the perception of truth. Each gained its iconic status through the deliberate manipulation of facts and public perception by government and military executives and continue to be used to this day to elicit self-abnegation from the rank and file.

Once again, there are points worth repeating about Foucault’s theory. At first, knowledge may appear to follow a cause and effect sequence. When examined in detail, however, knowledge often arises from coincidence, opportunism, and random events. Each narrative presented here illustrates how these factors come into play. In addition, it must be remembered that knowledge cannot be separated from power in Foucault’s thought. Consequently, the narratives discussed next also refer to the interface with groups and individuals, such as school curriculums, veterans associations, broadcasting networks, and monument building and maintenance projects.

Billy Bishop and Dieppe are discussed in the sub-chapter immediately below on teaching state narratives. Vimy Ridge will be the main example used in the following sub-section on memorialization.