Student Activism and MLA: The Importance of Status and Function in Society

Karen E. Linkletter, Ph.D.

PUBLISHED:

January 4, 2022

How do we find individual freedom, dignity, status and function in a society dominated by institutions that, to many, don’t seem to function effectively?

…it suddenly dawned on me that many of the young Americans now in college and graduate school are searching for an ethic based on personal (if not spiritual) values, rather than on social utility or community mores – what one might call an Ecumenical Ethic. The old ideologies and slogans leave these young adults cold…But there is a passionate groping for personal commitment to a philosophy of life. Above all, a new inner-directedness is all the rage in this group. Peter Drucker, “The Romantic Generation,” Harper’s Magazine, May 1966.


In doing research for a project, I revisited an article Drucker wrote about college students in the 1960s. Titled “The Romantic Generation,” this piece is Drucker’s musing about what was then referred to as “the generation gap.” Why were young people in the 1960s so different from college students in the 1950s, who were much less rebellious? I wanted to share some of Drucker’s insights from this article because many commentators today remark that college students in this era are increasingly rebellious and contentious. References to “wokeness” and “cancel culture” pepper commentaries, as voices argue that college students are intolerant of dissenting opinions and downright hostile toward freedom of speech. Do Drucker’s observations of young adults in the 1960s shed any light on the debates over discourse and student activism?


At the time of Drucker’s article, students were concerned with a number of social justice issues, including the civil rights movement and students’ rights. At the University of California, Berkeley, the Free Speech movement during the 1964-1965 academic year involved a student-led protest against a ban on on-campus political speech and activities. Fueled by the civil rights movement and later protests against the Viet Nam War, the Free Speech movement represented students’ rebellion against 1950s-era anti-Communist restrictions on First Amendment rights of young people. Universities and colleges were believed to be in loco parentis, or “in the place of a parent” with the power to limit young people’s rights for their own safety. Women were subject to curfews, and there were other significant restrictions on students’ private lives. The Free Speech movement at Berkeley was the death knell for in loco parentis on most college campuses, where students are now treated as adults.


But it was the civil rights movement that motivated students throughout the United States to engage in activism, often in ways that endangered their own lives. The Freedom Riders were groups of college students who protested segregation in the South. Students from Northern universities traveled to the Deep South in the summer of 1961 to work with activists from Southern colleges and universities to desegregate public transportation. White students would sit in areas on buses designated for black people, and black students would integrate into white seats. The events were nationally televised. When buses were burned and students beaten in places like Birmingham, Alabama, the whole world watched; in fact, the Soviet Union gleefully used television images of violent reactions to non-violent protests to denigrate capitalism. Then there were the Freedom Schools organized in 1964, the first one of which was in Mississippi. These free schools were designed to educate Southern blacks on their own history and organize them to achieve social, economic, and political equality. Drucker comments on this in his article:

The young people are much closer in their views on civil rights to the abolitionists of a century ago than they are to yesterday’s liberals. The oppression of the Negro is to them a sin rather than a wrong. “We Shall Overcome” has the ring of a gospel hymn rather than that of a New Republic editorial. This explains in large part the tremendous impact the civil rights movement has had on the mood, vision, and worldview of the campus generation. In addition, civil rights has offered scope for individual initiative and effectiveness, something our society otherwise does not readily grant to men or women in their early twenties. There are students, white and coloured, who have gone South to teach in the Freedom Schools. There are the white college girls up North who in considerable numbers venture into the meanest Negro ghettos of the big cities to tutor or counsel, often entirely on their own.

What caught my attention most about this part of Drucker’s discussion is his comment that the civil rights movement gave young people “scope for individual initiative and effectiveness” – In other words, status and function. Drucker rarely wrote about issues of race, gender, or social justice. But when he did, it was always in the context of his larger philosophy of a functioning society of institutions – the very philosophy that drives Management as a Liberal Art. Elsewhere in this article, Drucker sounds a bit like a cranky older person, complaining about the sentimentality of college students and reminiscing about his days as part of his own “romantic generation.” But his point is important: young people need to feel that they have a voice, a place, status and function. If they do not, they will turn on the very institutions that support them (universities and colleges). When Drucker comments that the students of his era are searching for “personal commitment to a philosophy of life” and are “inner-directed,” he is not being cheeky or critical. He is echoing his own young self who found meaning in the writings of the philosopher Kierkegaard. How can young people be part of a functioning society of institutions? Especially when those institutions seem to alienate those who are “inner-directed,” driven by values and morals rather than by the kudos and rewards offered by the outside world? Drucker’s own crisis revolved around the failure of every institution to stave off National Socialism. How could a young man have faith in society, or find meaning as an individual, when hope was seemingly lost? For, Drucker, Kierkegaard’s existentialism was the answer.


Young people in the 1960s faced a similar existential crisis, driven not by Nazis but by a sense of society’s moral failure. Despite the promises of freedom and equality embodied in America’s founding documents, the country still embraced segregation and racial intolerance. The Viet Nam war was evidence of Eisenhower’s “Military-Industrial complex,” a set of powerful institutions that seemed to pull the levers of society. A growing environmental awareness, spawned by Rachel Carson’s book Silent Spring and its revelations about the dangers of DDT, showed young people that industrialization was poisoning the planet. As students in this era looked at the world around them, they saw not just political issues to discuss, but moral failings – as Drucker says, “sin.”


Today’s young people see, in many ways, a moral failure of society in epic proportions. Students are very engaged on social issues. A recent study by BestColleges shows that over 70 percent of today’s students are motivated by social justice issues and are acting on those impulses. Topics that most concern students include racial justice, climate change, gun control, and gender equality. The murder of George Floyd sparked a widespread movement against police violence against Black Americans. Anti-Asian hate crime rose 73 percent in 2020. On November 30th, 2021, a 15-year-old student opened fire on his fellow classmates and teachers with a gun his parents had bought him for Christmas, wounding seven and killing four. As I write this, it is the ninth anniversary of the Sandy Hook Elementary school shooting, where a 20-year-old shot 26 people, including 20 children. Gymnasts abused by Larry Nassar, team doctor for the U.S. Olympic Gymnastics Team, reached a $380 million settlement with U.S. Olympic organizations. Climate change has been linked to a number of extreme events in recent months (https://www.nytimes.com/2021/11/17/climate/climate-change-wildfire-risk.htmlhttps://www.cnn.com/2021/08/21/weather/hurricane-henri-climate-change/index.html). So, yes, the ills of society weigh heavily on young people, and some generations seem to feel this weight more than others.


Drucker concludes his essay with some food for thought:

But a society of big organizations also raises in new and acute form the question of the person. What is his relationship to these new leviathans which are at one and the same time his servants and his master, his opportunity and his restraint, his tool and his environment? How can the individual maintain his integrity and privacy in such a society? Is individual freedom necessarily limited to whatever small air space will be left between the towering organizational skyscrapers? In such a society of big organizations, the need becomes more urgent for new answers to the old questions: “Who am I?” “What am I?” “What should I be?” …For once today’s young-adult fashions may foretell the concerns, and refigure the intellectual landscape, of tomorrow.


I keep coming back to Drucker’s remarks about students needing function and status, and how, in a society of big organizations, the questions about individual meaning loom large. For here, Drucker is telling us that students may be signaling views that others in society share. As a social ecologist, Drucker is looking at student activism as a possible “change that has already happened.” Is society as a whole moving towards more concern for the role that the “new leviathans” play? In other words, how could everyone, not just students, find status and function as large organizations played an increasingly important role in society? If institutions control every aspect of my life, where is the room for individual freedom? Is the “small air space” outside of institutions? Or can we find status and function within organizations (which is key to Management as a Liberal Art)?


I can see how this desire for “integrity,” “privacy” and “individual freedom” play a role in today’s student activism. The Parkland, Florida shootings in 2018 catapulted high school students to the forefront of gun control advocacy. Despair over the killing of George Floyd and many other black men at the hands of police officers sparked the Black Lives Matter protests that were particularly visible in the summer of 2020. Teenagers and young adults are some of the most prominent activists fighting to avert climate change. As was the case in the 1960s, young people point to previous generations’ failure and abdication of responsibility for solving these problems. And, as was the case in the 1960s, the tactics that young people use to protest are not always welcomed by larger society. Southerners viewed the Freedom Riders of 1961 as troublemakers, not moral activists. Attempts to curtail inflammatory presenters on college campuses and protestors shouting down speakers at events in today’s climate look like limitations on freedom of speech. When viewed through the lens of Management as a Liberal Art and social ecology, however, we can see how student activism is perhaps a symptom of a larger problem: how do we find individual freedom, dignity, status and function in a society dominated by institutions that, to many, don’t seem to function effectively? Management as a Liberal Art can help us answer these big questions.


By Karen Linkletter Ph.D. May 13, 2025
In today’s political environment, particularly in the United States, there is much discussion about the future of democracy. Globally, traditional democratic forms of government are being called into question. Is democracy no longer effective in its ability to represent “the people”? Have democratic governments been hijacked by elite, moneyed interests? Are our institutions no longer effective and in need of some kind of reset or reinvention? The increasing appeal of authoritarian regimes, driven by populist anger, has been the subject of the work of many political scientists and observers (Silver and Fetterolf, 2024, Praet, 2024, Rhodes, 2022). Nearly 200 years ago, Alexis de Tocqueville (1805-1859) sought to understand the essence of democracy. His motivations and observations can perhaps be instructive to us today as we wrestle with the nature of democracy in the modern era. Alexis de Tocqueville was a member of the French aristocracy in the era immediately following the French Revolution. The revolution, which began in 1789, featured the rejection of the monarchy through violent spectacle, including public beheadings via the newly developed guillotine. Alexis’s father was part of the French government and was briefly imprisoned during the Reign of Terror. Nevertheless, he was sympathetic to the revolutionary cause. In fact, many members of the aristocracy in de Tocqueville’s France understood the motivations behind the revolution and sought to ensure that subsequent governments addressed the extreme economic disparities that were exposed by the violent events of the Reign of Terror. Alexis was educated in the aristocratic tradition, studying political philosophy and theory, history, and law. He was well-versed in the Enlightenment philosophy that influenced the framers of the American Constitution, particularly Montesquieu. Montesquieu argued for separation of powers in governance, which derived from his belief in the human capacity not only for greatness, but also for corruption. This tension between virtue and vice, which Montesquieu saw as a universal condition of humankind throughout time, required guardrails to slow down or inhibit abuse of power. Following the establishment of the French Consulate in 1799, Napoleon rose to lead the French Empire in 1804. After his defeat in the Battle of Waterloo, France restored the monarchy to Charles X. However, this was a constitutional monarchy rather than one based on the rights of heredity. In 1830, France overthrew King Charles X of the House of Bourbon, growing critical of his broken promises for economic relief from taxation to pay off the debt of the Napoleonic Wars. Charles was replaced by his cousin, Louis Philippe, of the House of Orleans. Louis Philippe sought to reform the monarchy, recognizing freedoms such as voting rights. Referred to as the “Citizen King”, he would be one of the last kings to represent France. In essence, France was beginning to understand the inevitable: the past world of a hereditary monarch claiming absolute authority was over, and the constitutional monarchy seemingly could not deliver on the promises of egalitarianism made in 1789. But what would the new form of governance look like? This was not clear. Even though the country had a reformist government, constitutional monarchy still retained elite status/class distinctions to maintain social order.  Alexis de Tocqueville was 25 when Louis Philippe was installed as the Citizen King in the July Revolution of 1830. Believing that democracy would inevitably come to France, de Tocqueville wanted to study that form of government. What did it look like? How could it be a stable form of government? Because the United States of America was the earliest experiment in democracy, de Tocqueville petitioned the king to travel to America to study that country. In particular, de Tocqueville convinced the king to let him study the American penitentiary movement. One of the areas of reform pursued in France was prison reform (prisons in France were notoriously horrible). At the time, America was in the middle of its own reform movement, including the penitentiary system of prison reform. The concept of a penitentiary was brand new. The idea behind it was that, instead of rotting in prison forever, you would be reformed and released back into society if you were truly sorry, or penitent for, your crimes. De Tocqueville visited America in 1831-1832. In addition to prison reform, he witnessed many remarkable developments in American democracy. It was President Andrew Jackson’s first term, which involved substantial political upheaval in America. Jackson was the first President elected “of the people.” He was not a Virginian or New England “blue blood,” like all the presidents before him had been. Jackson was from the frontier, and had built his name on a military career, most notably in the War of 1812 at the Battle of New Orleans. Jackson’s election coincided with the expansion of suffrage to most white males regardless of their property ownership. Jackson was understandably a controversial President; his election gave birth to the Whig party as a political alternative. His fight against the Bank of the U.S. placed him at odds with a rapidly developing commercial middle class. During de Tocqueville’s visit, Americans were participating in a growing reform culture. Abolition, or anti-slavery, was building steam in the nation. William Lloyd Garrison published his first issue of The Liberator, an important abolitionist newspaper that de Tocqueville read. There were religious revivals, known as the Second Great Awakening, and urban reform movements targeting prostitution, temperance, and of course, prison reform, the purported reason for de Tocqueville’s visit. The discovery of gold on Cherokee land in Georgia in 1828 snowballed into the event eventually known as the Trail of Tears, the forced removal of thousands of Native Americans from their ancestral lands. Jackson’s 1830 Indian Removal Act made such events legal, and de Tocqueville personally witnessed the removal of the Chocktaw tribe. On a lighter note, this was also a time of incredible technological development. Railroad development and land speculation was beginning, McCormick had just patented his reaper, and de Tocqueville saw the newly opened Erie Canal. While de Tocqueville studied the nature of America’s young democracy nearly 200 years ago, we can leverage his observations with our own experience of facing a changing world where the nature of democracy is being questioned globally. The move towards increasing authoritarianism and populist movements calls into question whether democracy is government by the people or by the elite. Can de Tocqueville’s observations help us assess how we might keep democracies intact or make them more effective? In our next installment, I’ll look at de Tocqueville’s specific observations regarding democracy – particularly those related to the nature of equality. Sources Montesquieu, Charles de Secondat, baron de (1949). The spirit of the laws. New York: Hafner Pub. Co. Praet, J. (2024). Bringing authoritarianism into the limelight: the implications for populist radical right ideology. Journal of Political Ideologies, 1-23. Rhodes, B. (2022). After the Fall: The Rise of Authoritarianism in the World We’ve Made. Random House. Silver, L. and Fetterolf, J. (2024). Who likes authoritarianism, and how do they want to change their government? Pew Research Center, February 28. https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2024/02/28/who-likes-authoritarianism-and-how-do-they-want-to-change-their-government/ Tocqueville, A.D. and Reeve, H. (1835). Democracy in America. London: Saunders and Otley, to 1840.
By Byron Ramirez, Ph.D. and Bo Yang, Ph.D. April 23, 2025
When we describe leaders, we often cite the importance of their ability to influence others. For decades scholars have focused their work on studying and describing how this capacity to influence works and why it tends to elicit a positive response from people, who are inspired to follow the leader’s vision. We have read about that mystifying ability to persuade others and guide them towards a common purpose. However, when analyzing the leader there is another aspect we ought to also consider - where does their power originate from, and is this power considered legitimate? What these questions intend to imply is that when we analyze the interactions of leaders and their followers, we should contemplate how their relationship is built, and moreover, how the power of the leader is used to shape those relationships. Let us first discuss what power is and why it is important. Power in its general sense is the capacity to influence, lead, dominate, or impact the actions of others. The German sociologist, Max Weber referred to power as the capacity to create a desired outcome within a social relationship. As such, power enables the leader to influence and lead the actions of people. Legitimate power is often referred to as power that the person derives from formal position or office held in the organization's hierarchy of authority. And it is this notion of authority that helps legitimatize power in the eyes of the follower. For instance, a manager has legitimate power over their subordinates, allowing them to assign tasks. Teachers possess legitimate power in the classroom, enabling them to assign grades and set learning objectives. We can then surmise that legitimate power is based on the authority granted by a position or title. And individuals will comply with requests or decisions made by the person with authority because they recognize the authority of the person holding the position. However, unlike authority, which implies legitimacy, power can be exercised illegitimately. As history shows us, there are plenty of examples where power did not originate simply from a place of authority and legitimacy, and instead flowed from coercion. Joseph Stalin and his Great Terror campaign certainly comes to mind. And although Stalin did have a position of “authority”, much of his power and influence were coercive and deceptive in nature. In fact, Stalin had used his political positions throughout his life to “remove” opponents while bolstering his image in the pursuit of greater personal power. According to biographer Robert Service (2005), Stalin took pleasure in degrading and humiliating people and kept even close associates in a state of "unrelieved fear”. Of course, there are other instances in which coercive power is used to elicit compliance. A more common example of coercive power is a manager who uses threats of demotion or termination to get employees to comply. And so, when we consider the influence a leader (manager) has, we ought to consider the very nature and source of their power. Do people follow the leader because they are truly inspired by the leader’s vision? Or do they follow because they have no other choice? Managers who threaten the job security of others to ensure compliance, leaders who exploit their positions for personal gain, or individuals who rise through favoritism rather than merit – are manifestations of illegitimate power. Regardless of context, illegitimate power tends to erode morale, limit creativity, and foster toxic environments where people operate out of fear rather than purpose. Illegitimate power wields influence without moral justification, ethical values, or the consent of those affected. And because this form of power often derives from manipulation, coercion, intimidation, or exploitation rather than genuine respect for people, it undermines trust, breeds fear, and corrodes the ethical foundations of organizations and communities. Coercive leaders who use threats, punishment, or psychological pressure to force compliance, may certainly achieve short-term results, but at a significant long-term cost. Coercion strips individuals of their autonomy and creates environments of resentment and disengagement. People may comply outwardly, but internally they may withdraw, resist, or leave. Furthermore, coercive leadership discourages open dialogue and constructive feedback, which are essential for innovation, growth, and continuous improvement. When fear becomes the primary motivator, organizations and societies become stagnant, rigid, and vulnerable to collapse. And this brings us to an important question – what does legitimate power look like? On this issue, Peter Drucker offers unique insights. In his first book, The End of Economic Man (1939), Drucker discussed the issue of legitimate power (although he did not use the term legitimate power, but rather the justification of authority). Drucker believed that the power of rulers must possess legitimacy, a tradition that has continued in Western civilization since Plato and Aristotle. In Drucker’s view, legitimate power involves a functional relationship between power, social beliefs, and social realities: does power commit to social beliefs? At the same time, can it effectively organize social reality based on that commitment to create order? In his books, Concept of the Corporation (1946) and The New Society (1950), Drucker began to use both terms legitimate power and leadership simultaneously. Drucker would go on to argue that a government that commits to the well-being of its people can be said to have legitimate power. Over time, Drucker shifted his analysis of legitimate power from the political realm to social organizations. According to Drucker, if the management of a social organization (such as a company) claims that its principal purpose is to benefit employees, this particular focus would constitute an abuse of power. Instead, Drucker argued that the primary mission of an economic organization is to always achieve economic performance, thereby contributing to society – and this is in fact, the source of the legitimacy of corporate management's power. Of course, a company is also a community. For employees, management undoubtedly holds power and must exercise it. However, the legitimacy of management’s power does not come from the commitment to benefit employees, but rather from two functions: 1. Through institutional design and innovation, shaping effective community communication, thereby enabling middle-level and lower-level employees to gain an overall vision of the organization. This allows employees to have a managerial attitude. 2. By setting clear and reasonable performance standards, prompting employees to take responsibility and achieve success through effective work. If management can perform these functions within the organization, then it is considered to exercise legitimate power. In Drucker's early works, exercising legitimate power was almost synonymous with leadership. Drucker was not enthusiastic about discussing the personal style or charm of leaders, and he was even less inclined to associate leadership with a mystifying ability to persuade others, especially if such persuasion appealed to propaganda, indoctrination, or mental manipulation. For Drucker, discussing leadership primarily meant enabling power to function effectively. Therefore, leadership is not a matter of individual leaders' techniques and styles, but rather a matter of the responsibility and function of power itself. We can surmise from these functions that legitimate power aligns with the goals, beliefs, and aspirations of the people being led. Leaders who wield this kind of power do not need to resort to threats or manipulation. Instead, they inspire, guide, and collaborate. Their authority is accepted because it is seen as fair, earned, and beneficial to the collective. It is vital to foster leaders who operate from legitimate power—power that is granted through trust, expertise, shared values, and recognized authority. Legitimate power is grounded in the formal authority granted to a manager through their role within an organization, but its true strength comes from how that authority is exercised. Unlike coercive power, legitimate power is perceived as rightful and appropriate because it is based on clear expectations, mutual respect, and established structures. When managers consistently act with fairness, integrity, and transparency, their authority is more likely to be accepted and trusted by their teams. This creates a healthy power dynamic where employees feel secure in leadership decisions, understand their roles, and are motivated to contribute toward shared goals. Managers can build legitimate power by aligning their actions with the organization's values and demonstrating competence, consistency, and accountability. For instance, making decisions that reflect the organization’s mission and treating all team members equitably strengthens a manager’s credibility. Communication is also key—leaders who listen actively, provide clear direction, and explain the rationale behind their decisions foster trust and buy-in. Investing in personal growth, staying informed, and modeling a strong work ethic all reinforce the perception that a manager has earned their position and is acting in the best interest of the team and the organization. When managers lead through legitimate power, the benefits to the organization are substantial. Teams are more engaged, morale improves, and collaboration increases because people trust the leadership and feel aligned with the organization’s purpose. This creates a positive feedback loop where employees are more likely to take initiative, innovate, and remain committed, reducing turnover and boosting overall performance. In essence, legitimate power forms the foundation of a sustainable leadership culture—one that empowers individuals, strengthens organizational integrity, and drives long-term success. Developing leaders who influence through legitimate power requires a shift in how we define and nurture leadership. It involves prioritizing emotional intelligence, ethical reasoning, transparency, and empathy. Such leaders model integrity and authenticity, aligning their decisions with shared values and long-term visions. They create environments where people feel valued, heard, and empowered. In turn, this fosters loyalty, engagement, and a strong sense of purpose. To build healthier workplaces and more just societies, we must champion leaders who embody legitimate power: those who influence not by fear, but by vision, credibility, and alignment with shared values. This approach not only promotes ethical leadership but also cultivates trust, innovation, and collective well-being. References Drucker, P. F. (1946). Concept of the corporation. New York: John Day Company Drucker, P. F. (1939). The end of economic man: A study of the new totalitarianism. New York: John Day Company Drucker, P. F. (1950). The new society: The anatomy of the industrial order. New York: Harper Service, R. (2005). Stalin: a biography. Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. Weber, M. (1965). Politics as a vocation. Fortress Press.
By Bo Yang Ph.D. April 23, 2025
In China, you can see countless interviews with successful entrepreneurs on TV, online, or in magazines. The same is true in the U.S.—probably even more so. I imagine this stylish trend must have originated in America. These interviews often show entrepreneurs sincerely talking about childhood dreams and beliefs they’ve held for decades. They’ll share how they stayed committed to those dreams and step by step made them come true. Over the past few years, I’ve had the chance to meet a few Chinese entrepreneurs—some of whom I had previously seen on TV or in magazines. Once we got to know each other better, they started sharing stories that were quite different from their media narratives. They admitted that their childhoods were hardly filled with grand dreams. What truly pushed them into business were hunger, poverty, cunning—or sometimes, just luck. I am not a nihilist, nor am I trying to say that dreams and beliefs are nothing but marketing gimmicks, exposed through off-the-record conversations. What I mean is: this is a realist world. It’s entirely possible for people to achieve business success through the pursuit of profit, intelligence, hard work, and a bit of luck. Many people don’t fully understand how they even became successful—until they already are. Of course, the world isn’t just about realism. Some people, once successful, begin to seek meaning in their lives. They want to keep doing valuable things—not just by luck, but through genuine understanding. At this point, they need to go back and reexamine what business really means. So what does business really mean? If you asked a Chinese scholar from a thousand years ago, he would most likely say that business is linked to something like original sin. Of course, Chinese culture doesn’t contain the Christian idea of original sin, but when talking about commerce or merchants, scholars would often describe businesspeople as inherently tainted by something spiritually corrupt. If you asked a classical economist like Adam Smith, you’d get a much more generous answer. Classical economists openly accept the profit motive as part of human nature, and they’d go further to say that this motive is a major driver of civilization. The accumulation of social wealth, improved quality of life, and progress of civilization all rely on individuals—driven by profit—to create rules, use their talents, and generate value. After classical economics, this line of thinking became the default lens for understanding business and commercial civilization. Even though Marxism and Nazism have violently attacked the profit motive, modern commercial civilization has not only survived—it has thrived. The great achievement of classical economics was to build a causal relationship between the pursuit of profit and the progress of civilization. But the question remains: is that all there is? The entrepreneurs I know, who fought their way through tough business landscapes, would never doubt the role of the profit motive. But some of them also have a vague sense that business isn’t just about making money. After a few successful ventures, some start to long—consciously or unconsciously—for cleaner businesses, meaningful businesses, even beautiful ones. They may not be able to articulate this impulse, so instead, they go on TV or into magazines and talk about childhood dreams and ideals. These aren’t real memories—they’re symbolic stories. What exactly drives commercial civilization? Peter Drucker agreed with the classical economists, but only halfway—because they only got it halfway right. Drucker never denied the profit motive. But he believed that all successful business activity is a discovery and creation of order. And that’s what makes it so important. Not only do entrepreneurs and managers need to rethink the meaning of business, but ordinary citizens in modern society do too. Drucker’s book Managing for Results, published in 1964, is still seen by many as a hands-on business guide—and rightly so. Few of his works are as focused on practical application, packed with diagrams and terminology. But what’s truly interesting about the book is how, while walking readers through practical operations, Drucker is also helping them rethink what business actually is. He starts right where most businesspeople do—with the desire to make money. But he warns: not every boss who makes money actually understands how they made it—or which products brought in the profit. To figure that out, they have to understand their business as a whole. But doing that means stepping out of personal ego and illusions of success. It means knowing which accounting method reveals the truth. It means identifying which products are making money—and then asking why. And the right way to find out why a product makes money isn’t to ask the product manager, engineer, or designer—it’s to understand the customer’s needs. If the boss and the product manager are serious about understanding the customer, they’ll realize the customer isn’t buying a product—they’re buying value, value that meets a particular need. And customer needs change constantly—just like the weather. Even the smartest people can only partly predict these shifts. The wise approach is to treat change as a given and figure out how to deal with it, manage it, and adapt to it. Once they accept this truth, bosses and managers begin to see the market differently. Results are not things created inside a company—they’re things selected by customers in the marketplace. Profit isn’t wealth created by the company and kept by it; it’s a risk buffer that allows the company to stay in the market. Innovation isn’t a CEO suddenly struck by inspiration; it’s people with entrepreneurial spirit using new combinations of resources to meet customer needs and produce performance. A boss who’s serious about business—and honest about reality—can start out wanting to make money and end up with an entirely new perspective, and a deeper understanding of business. At the end of Managing for Results, Drucker wrote something striking. He believed that not only entrepreneurs and managers need to understand business—they have a responsibility to help the public understand it too. They must become educators in civil society. Even today, in modern, industrialized nations with booming economies, many well-educated citizens still don’t understand business. They look down on it. Some even hate it. They don’t lack conscience—if anything, they’re overflowing with it—but they lack imagination and understanding. They don’t see that business is actually a form of rational exchange and creative mutual benefit between people. And because they don’t understand this, they not only despise business—they become impatient with any kind of rational exchange or creative collaboration. Instead, they get used to imposing their moral preferences on others. That kind of moral arrogance keeps producing hatred and division in modern society. Of course, Drucker didn’t believe business could solve all of society’s problems. But he did believe that the motive behind commercial civilization isn’t only about profit. He also believed that civilized business itself is a form of education for modern society. Because civilization—no matter where it appears—always involves understanding, creating, sharing, and exchanging organizational frameworks. As he wrote: “The economic task, if done purposefully, responsibly, with knowledge and forethought, can indeed be exciting and stimulating, as this book has, I hope, conveyed. It offers intellectual challenge, the reward of accomplishment, and the unique enjoyment man derives from bringing order out of chaos.” Drucker often quoted the British philosopher Alfred North Whitehead (1861–1947). As far as I know, Whitehead may be the only modern philosopher—besides Drucker—who truly understood the beauty of business. In his 1925 book Science and the Modern World, Whitehead wrote something strikingly similar: “Art is not limited to sunsets. A factory—by virtue of its machines, its community of workers, its service to the general public, its reliance on organizational and design genius, and its potential as a source of wealth for shareholders—is a living organism rich with value.” But Whitehead also said something even more important, in The Adventure of Ideas (1933): “Plato was right: The creation of the world—the world of civilized institutions—is the victory of persuasion over force.” And business civilization—especially the kind that Drucker and Whitehead envisioned, one that creates order and beauty—is perhaps the most brilliant demonstration of how persuasion can triumph over conquest.  As Drucker said, it’s not just businesspeople who need to understand this. Every citizen of the modern world should too. Because even now, the opposite impulse is still alive—the desire to replace persuasion with conquest and turn business into a game of domination.
Show More