Tuesday, February 12, 2019

A Leader for All Seasons


Riley Pritchett
Professor Marck Beggs
MLS683 Leadership in Art and Film
26 June 2016
A Leader for All Seasons
Opinions abound in the United States. Whether the subject is abortion, gun control, gay rights, economic security, or immigration, Americans find a way to voice every imaginable opinion on the matter. In a society in which freedom exalted, there is significant opposition to the regulation of opinion.
Historically in Europe, this has not been the case. In the 1500s, Magna Charta notwithstanding, English monarchs could manipulate the law to imprison or execute dissidents. Such a dissident was Sir Thomas More, Catholic saint and renaissance humanist. When More failed to acknowledge King Henry VIII’s remarriage to Anne Boleyn, he found himself under increasing pressure to change his opinion. His ultimate refusal resulted in his execution.
These events are portrayed in the 1966 film A Man for All Seasons, directed by Fred Zinnemann and starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More. The film, based closely on Robert Bolt’s play of the same name, won six Academy Awards the following year including Best Picture.
The film provides a honed examination of the last 15 years of More’s life. In the film, More’s sharp legal intelligence and intense moral duty are vividly contrasted with the utilitarianism of England’s government in the sixteenth century. Despite his silent protestations on the matter of the king’s marriage, multiple characters insist his moral uprightness have left him a leader on such matters regardless.
This work will examine Sir Thomas More’s leadership behavior as demonstrated in A Man for All Seasons. His unwavering Catholic faith and duty to his monarch are visible in his interactions with tradition in his country and time. An unmistakable intellectual, More towered above his peers in his legal and moral reasoning. This leadership was part of what hastened his rise to the chancellery, as well as his ultimate demise. And of course, no discussion of More would be complete without an examination of the role of conscience and identity in leadership. (For the purpose of concision, references to More and Henry VIII will be assumed to derive from the film first and from history second, though both are closely linked.)
Any story which occurs in the early sixteenth century will contain traces of firmly established traditions. Sir Thomas More’s life is no exception. He was a committed Catholic, and any effort to usurp the authority of the Pope was, in his mind, an act of blasphemy.
His devotion to the Church did not merely extend to his personal faith, or his conversations with others concerning religion. In the film, all of More’s children are unmentioned other than his favorite daughter, Margaret. She, her husband Will Roper, and More’s second wife Alice are in More’s constant care throughout his ordeal, whether in person or in prayer.
More educated his children liberally. Indeed, his daughter Margaret was the first non-royal woman to publish an English translation of a work (Demers, 4). Though his wife did not know how to read, he was always willing to teach her. Margaret’s involvement with Will Roper hinges upon More’s approval of Roper’s religion. Every other judgment he leaves up to his dear Meg, whose judgment he trusts. Once “son Roper” becomes a part of his family, he treats him with the same protection he shows his wife and daughter.
When Will, Meg, and Alice visit the paternal inmate, his last will to them that they escape England lest they feel the wrath of the government after his death. Despite the individualist nature of More’s objections, his traditional leadership role as head of the household remains a core part of his duty throughout the film. This steadfastness is typical of More’s character, and should likewise characterize a quality leader.
As he cares for his family, so More tends to his employees. When he resigns from the chancellery over his dispute with the king’s government, his shrinking income forces him to dismiss all of his servants. However, rather than terminate their employment immediately, he assures them he will only release them once he or another has secured their employment under a new master.
This kind of leadership shows both his position of authority and his care for the individual well-being of his employees. Regardless of the presumed corruption of his head servant, More personally thanks him for his presence in the household and affirms that he will be sincerely missed. This implicit forgiveness strikes a sour chord with the head servant, who feels the unpleasantness of his own guilt in the face of true kindness.
Kindness is to a leader not a tool of guilt or debt, however, as was observed by Benjamin Franklin in his autobiography: “He that has once done you a kindness will be more ready to do you another, than he whom you yourself have obliged.” (Franklin)
King Henry VIII remains infamous for his successive wives, thanks in no small part to his desire for a male heir. Catherine gave him Mary, but every son she conceived died in birth or shortly after. The events of A Man for All Seasons finds him as he places his hopes in his mistress Anne Boleyn. When Pope Clement VII refuses to sanction his divorce from Catherine, Henry does not shrink from his position as the leader of England. Indeed, he places himself at the head of the church in addition to the government. This power grab is a cause of considerable turmoil, not least of which in the life of the silent but dissident Sir Thomas More.
A leader who amasses power to accommodate personal desire can only do so through great charisma or gain to others, both of which apply to Henry’s case. A lack of inducement leaves the leader open to legitimate criticism of his motives and ability to keep the organization’s health in the forefront of his behavior.
In Henry’s mind, he does just that, since the continuation of his line is, in his mind, necessary for the prosperity of England. He would never know the success of his daughter Elizabeth as one of the greatest monarchs in history. Tradition would scarcely inform him of such a possibility, as in a monarchical system sickly sons are of greater value than healthy daughters.
Tradition, however, is a backdrop to the events of A Man for All Seasons. Another vital aspect of Sir Thomas More’s personality is his intelligence, both emotional and classical.
Emotional intelligence, an “essential and indispensable requirement for effective leadership,” is typified by More in his dealings with both authorities and subordinates (Manning, 301). He preserves his sense of humor at his own trial, despite a year of imprisonment in the Tower of London. When approached in a spirit of humor, he responds in kind. When a conversation becomes too tense, his dry levity lightens the mood.
Likewise, More’s ability to sense the emotional needs of others helps him provide advice and support to those around him. He recognizes the ambitions of the young Richard Rich, and recommends he find work free of temptation, like teaching at a schoolhouse. When More’s wife Alice despairs, he comforts her.
Of course mere sensitivity is not sufficient for functional leadership. Literal intelligence in the form of legal and scriptural knowledge form a cornerstone of More’s character in his stand against Henry. He covers himself in every case of a potential scandal. When an anti-government party seeks his advice, he keeps a copy of his letter recommending submission to the king’s will for England. When he mistakenly receives a bribe, he gives it away as soon as he can.
His faith in the legal system contrasts with his son-in-law, who wishes they could use God’s good judgment to end the corruption of the king’s men. More, horrified, affirms that should the devil himself be loose in England, he would not change his faith in the system. He says, “I give the devil the benefit of the law for my own safety’s sake.” (Zinnemann, 1966)
His deep legal knowledge forces King Henry and Thomas Cromwell to sentence him to death by suspect means. In the end, only More’s silence condemns him, despite his insistence that silence as a legal precedent would affirm rather than deny the king’s divorce.
Despite his strong intelligence, More preserves a sense of humility which was not forced. When he speaks with Henry in the film, his humility and tact back his assertion explicitly and implicitly. To the end of his life, he considers himself the king’s servant. Never does he wish to usurp the king’s authority or cause unnecessary trouble. He agrees to everything the king desires—even wishing him well in his life with Anne Boleyn—he would simply not transgress his beliefs by legitimizing Henry’s divorce and ascension to the head of the Church of England.
The meat of More’s story is not in its discussion of tradition or intelligence, however. The nature of conscience and identity constitute the primary philosophical underpinnings of the film. Without conviction and integrity, More would have submitted to the royal desire to divorce England from the church.
Leaders with conviction make for the greatest...and worst leaders. C. S. Lewis wrote in his essay “God in the Docks,”
Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience. (Lewis)
Perhaps some of this capricious tyranny can be seen in the whims of Henry VIII in A Man for All Seasons, but in the end it is his administrators, who will do any wrong to please the king, that oppress the film’s protagonist. They declare their end is not only proper, but paramount. Sir Thomas More is but an unhappy casualty in their war for the preservation of England.
More readily admits the subjective nature of personal conviction. “What matters is not that it’s true, but that I believe it; or no, not that I believe it, but that I believe it,” Sir Thomas asserts to the Duke of Norfolk (Zinnemann, 1966). The point, in his mind, is that he had believes, not that he might offend another. And should not others give him the benefit of acceptance he himself offers freely to his friends, whose acceptance of the king’s edict holds no culpability in his eyes?
This brings the matter beyond the simple fact of conviction, but the good sense and morality that underlies it. More was not a mere holder of opinions. He carefully chose his views, and refused to blatantly sin against them.
National Review writer Rachel Lu references More’s situation as an analogy for a different decision in 2016: “As in More’s time, a decadent and egomaniacal politician presses us to choose between valued principles and longstanding party allegiances.” In 2016, no egomaniac is as discussed as Donald Trump. Lu insists that “[supporting Trump] has moral implications that affect my psychology and character, whether or not I willingly acknowledge the fact.” (Lu, 2016)
She argues that More’s moral stand was not a fluke of history, but a demonstrative case that leads us into better decision-making in the modern day. In A Man for All Seasons, More declares, “I think that when statesmen forsake their own private conscience for the sake of their public duties, they lead their country by a short route to chaos.” (Zinnemann, 1966) Party allegiance out of duty risks the demolition of private conscience—of one’s integrity—and according to More that is an unworthy sacrifice indeed.
As noted by C. S. Lewis, conviction without proper integrity leads to oppression. Any leader may perceive himself as doing the right thing while being a tyrant. Plato echoes this sentiment in The Republic: “Whereas the truth is that the State in which the rulers are most reluctant to govern is always the best and most quietly governed, and the State in which they are most eager, the worst.” (Plato)
The willing political leader has received extensive treatment in works such as The Prince, in which Machiavelli describes his vision for a utilitarian head of state (Machiavelli). Such people devolve into power-hungry tyrants, however, unless they are governed by integrity. More himself resigns from the chancellery halfway through the film when he realizes he cannot serve in clear conscience.
The underlying conversation of A Man for All Seasons is identity and individualism verses collectivism. Sir Thomas More desires to be treated not as a cog in the machine, but as a private man with a conscience and the right to do right in the eyes of God and man. He does not argue that others must agree with him. Indeed, he urges his family to sign the agreement which he himself cannot.
Another noted individualist, Henry David Thoreau, wrote in his famous essay “Civil Disobedience,” “What I have to do is to see, at any rate, that I do not lend myself to the wrong which I condemn.” (Thoreau) Dissent is a form of leadership to Thoreau. And though More tries to deny as much in the film, it became as much for him too.
The utilitarian moralist may argue that More’s logic is mere idealism, not individualism. Because he has faith in a perfect vision for the church, he gimps any hope he had of guiding England through a transitional period. Moral leadership, utilitarian or not, is a highly complex subject (Lehr, et al., 203). But at their core, More’s arguments are not naive or unintelligent, but individualistic.
More would have thrived in a free society, in which he could cast his vote according to his conscience without repercussion. Likewise, the separation of church and state in the United States affords a man of More’s convictions the ability to follow his faith without interference from the government—or from a specific religious sect controlling the government.
Sir Thomas More may be a distant figure to the few Americans who can readily identify him, but his example is in no way dimmed by the passage of time. A man who knew his duty to heaven and to earth, he lived in the way he believed to be right.
Through study and experience, his sharp legal mind allowed him to support his conscience without denying his loyalty to his country. And though the world did not afford him the degree of freedom he deserved, he refused to bend on matters he considered insuperable.
As presented in A Man for All Seasons, he proves himself to be a valued subject of his country, whose opinion is sought again and again through Henry VIII’s divorce. Agree or disagree with his devotion to Catholicism, anyone can admire the quiet moral leadership of the unfortunate English lawyer. More summarized himself and his philosophy expertly in the last words he spoke before his decapitation: “the king’s good servant, but God’s first.” (Zinnemann, 1966)
References
Demers, Patricia. “Margaret Roper & Erasmus: The Relationship of Translator and Source.” WWR Magazine 1.1 (2005): 3-8. Web. 22 June 2016.
Fehr, Ryan, Yam Kai Cchi (Sam), and Carolyn Dang. “Moralized Leadership: The Construction And Consequences Of Ethical Leader Perceptions.” Academy Of Management Review 40.2 (2015): 182-209. Business Source Complete. Web. 26 June 2016.
Franklin, Benjamin. The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin. Electronic Text Center, U of Virginia Library. Web. 26 June 2016.
Lewis, C.S. “God in the Dock.” U of Texas at Dallas. Web. 25 June 2016.
Lu, Rachel. “Would Thomas More Have Voted for Donald Trump?” National Review, 28 May 2016. Web. 22 June 2016.
Machiavelli, N. The Prince (Marriot, Trans.). Sweden: Wisehouse Classics, 2015. (Original work published 1514). Print.
Manning, G., & Curtis, K. The Art of Leadership. Fifth Edition. New York: McGraw-Hill Education, 2015. Print.
Plato. The Republic. Web. 26 June 2016.
Thoreau, Henry David. “Civil Disobedience.” GoodReads. Web. 26 June 2016.
Zinnemann, Fred, dir. A Man for All Seasons. Columbia Pictures, 1966. Film.


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