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Legacy-building in watershed moments
Kai-Alexander Schlevogt
What bespeaks a defining moment? Even after decades you will recall where you were when it happened. Most people remember their whereabouts on Jan. 28, 1986. This was the day the U.S. space shuttle Challenger exploded shortly after takeoff, killing astronauts in flight for the first time in American history. Their special passenger, a beloved school teacher who had dreamed of becoming the first American civilian traveling to outer space, perished with them.
U.S. President Ronald Reagan faced the daunting challenge of explaining to his citizens, millions of whom had watched the calamity live on TV, how such a disaster could occur. It was particularly bitter for him to address the large group of school children who had also followed the peripeteia.
The crisis was a watershed moment in the history of U.S. science and technology: popular discontent could have become the nemesis of manned space travel there. The denouement was the momentous decision to blast the best and brightest scientists and civilians into orbit despite having acquired full knowledge of the clear and present danger to their lives.
The former actor, who once claimed he was not a great communicator but communicated great things, capitalized on this crisis and truly thrived in the predicament. Several elements of "flashpoint leadership", which I define as the art and science of inspiring people to greatness in the face of a cataclysmic event, can be identified.
Performance at such a critical crossroads sorts the men from the boys; it is the sweet spot where movers and shakers can become immortal. In particular, reinforcing the mission, vision and core values in pivotal moments helps a ruler create a lasting legacy. Because leadership issues emerge in exceptionally bright colors in politics, captains of industry are well advised to learn from the electrifying statesman.
To start with, the U.S. president heightened the sense of drama by abruptly canceling the State of the Union address planned for the day and talking to his fellow countrymen about the ruin of the Challenger instead. He thus accorded it top priority and gave it the attention it deserved. Even many years afterwards, his speech continues to move a multitude of people, evidencing that it is a timeless piece of leadership art.
The live broadcast from the Oval Office started at 5 p.m., just hours after the explosion. Evincing a formidable grasp of the situation, the fine sensor rose to the occasion. He acted as caring father of the nation, showing composure and dignity. Betokening his pastoral quality, he uttered exactly the right words for the heart-breaking moment in a measured cadence. With love, kindness and humility written on his face, he truly empathized with every one of his countrymen, sharing their pain and comforting them.
A veritable master of connecting with people, he confided that he and his wife had been shocked by the terrible blow. Ordinary couples across America thus could easily identify with their fellow citizens Ronnie and Nancy, who experienced the same grief about the national loss. Instead of using abstract language, Reagan personalized the catastrophe by recounting the names of the entire crew and the unusual passenger. Lending the event a national voice, the nonpareil integrator conveyed a sense of community, signaling that all Americans were in this together.
The commander-in-chief did not varnish the debacle; neither did he blame a culprit whose hamartia doomed the mission. He confronted reality head-on, frankly acknowledged that the fatal accident was without precedent in his country's history. Nevertheless, he paid the personnel of NASA and all other people contributing to space missions his deep respect. With magic charm, he professed he wished to talk to each of them and tell them they were impressive. Meanwhile, he seized the moment of truth to elucidate the DNA of his country, accentuating what made it tick and what it held dear.
The charismatic leader directly addressed the school children of America, who were watching him with tearful eyes. He made sense of the tragedy by stepping back and framing it as a sacrifice in the service of an enthralling collective cause: pushing human frontiers outwards. He also articulated the captivating national dream of conquering space and reinforced the core value of gallantry in adversity. He spoke highly of the transparency and freedom in his country, an implicit contrast to secrecy and cover-ups in the Soviet "evil empire."
The paragon of political drama hailed the victims as heroes. Stressing their pivotal role as pioneers of space travel, he made them the protagonists of the great adventure of exploration. The revered president held his audience spellbound by solemnly declaring: "The future doesn't belong to the fainthearted; it belongs to the brave." These themes epitomize the story of America, which is anchored in the national psyche, and thus strongly resonated with his citizens.
Undoubtedly, the presidential gestation period mattered for the success in this soul-calling moment, which defined part of Reagan's leadership legacy. The people sensed the import of his message and felt convinced because he had developed a strong belief in his country's mission, vision and values. Long before he had been elected president, he had steadfastly adhered to his distinctive world view, clearly separating good and evil. Countless times, he had promulgated his prophetic ideas about America's destiny. He had honed his skills in narrating the tale of what had made his country great and unique, espousing American values without diffidence.
Lesser men would have considered the anagnorisis, which revealed the home truth that American engineers are fallible humans instead of demigods, an extremely inopportune moment for talking about future space projects. But in reality it was a golden opportunity to energize the people and prepare them for further sacrifices. With an acute sense of timing and prodigious conviction, the leader affirmed his boundless optimism. He mustered the courage to vow in a defiant tone that manned shuttle flights would continue and even civilians would fly to outer space again.
At the end, the inspiring president inscribed himself in the memory book of people. He eulogized the unforgettable crew that had honored all Americans, reciting touching passages from the war-time poem High Flight. He asseverated that "it slipped the surly bonds of earth" to "touch the face of God."
Kai-Alexander Schlevogt (D.Phil. Oxford) is a professor of strategy and leadership at the National University of Singapore (NUS) Business School and author of The Art of Chinese Management (Oxford University Press). Email: schlevogt@schlevogt.com; website: www.schlevogt.com
