Abstract
Research attests to the perils of hubristic leadership in politics, the military and business organizations, however whilst researchers have identified hubris’ correspondences with personality disorders and various organizational and individual level factors, the cognitive and affective antecedents of hubris have been largely overlooked. In this paper we argue that intuition, existing as it does at the nexus of cognition and affect, is a central factor and that when intuition becomes misunderstood, unchecked or unbridled within the ‘cognitive economy’ of a powerful individual hubristic behaviour is more likely to appear. In what follows we will: review the concepts of hubris, Hubris Syndrome and intuition; propose intuition as an overlooked cognitive and affective source of leaders’ hubris; discuss the relationship between unbridled intuition and hubris; suggest how the perils of hubristic leadership stemming from unbridled intuition might be avoided or mitigated.
Background
Hubris has been described as an occupational hazard for political, military and business leaders. Hubris Syndrome – possibly an acquired personality disorder – develops when individuals find themselves in positions of substantial power, without any previous history of psychiatric illness (Owen and Davidson, 2009). Hubris in the business, political and military arenas has been characterized as excessive self-confidence, exaggerated self-belief and contempt for the advice and criticism of others. Overall, hubris is associated with an absence of humility and a sense of being ‘intoxicated by power’ (Russell, 2011). The consequences of Hubris Syndrome for political leaders such as Tony Blair and Margaret Thatcher were seen widely as profound and ultimately self-destructive in that their terms of office were ended prematurely by their own Members of Parliament. Similarly, business leaders’ hubris has been shown to have deleterious consequences for individuals themselves for example losing their jobs, as well as their organizations losing market share (Hayward, 2007; Li and Tang, 2010). Hubris is one of a number of ‘darker-side’ leadership traits (see: Collinson, 2012; Conger, 1990; Higgs, 2009; Hoogenboezem, 2007; Judge et al., 2009; Padilla et al., 2007). Given the impact that hubristic leadership can have on both political and organizational cultures and institutions, there is a pressing need for a better understanding of the phenomenon: how it arises; why some but not all leaders develop hubris; how the risk of its development can be reduced; how to manage it more effectively when it occurs; whether Hubris Syndrome abates when power is lost.
Rationale and aims
Previous research on hubris has tended to tackle the subject from a variety of different directions. Some researchers have focused their attention ‘downstream’ from leaders’ hubris, exploring the ways in which hubris manifests in actions such as reckless risk taking, rash merger and acquisition behaviours, and the concomitant effects on firm performance (e.g. Li and Tang, 2010; Takacs et al., 2010). Others have attempted to explain various ‘upstream’ factors in an individual’s history, context or personality that predispose them towards hubris (Hayward and Hambrick, 1997; Hayward et al., 2006, Hiller and Hambrick, 2005; Kroll et al., 2000). These factors include individuals’ attributions of causes of previous organizational success, media praise, self-importance (Hayward and Hambrick, 1997), narcissism and a sense of exemption from rules (Kroll et al., 2000), socially constructed confidence (Hayward et al., 2006) and inflated core self-evaluation (CSE) rooted in the traits of self-esteem, emotional stability, generalized self-efficacy and locus of control (Hiller and Hambrick, 2005).
Much of this previous ‘upstream’ work at the individual level of analysis has focused largely on leaders’ and chief executive officers’ (CEOs) personality traits and related constructs such (e.g. narcissism, hyper-CSE). However, the cognitive and affective factors associated with leaders’ hubris are less well documented or understood but it is precisely these elements which form our conceptual and theoretical anchors and informed our research aims rather than the more widely researched Freudian personality-related variables such as narcissism (see Pullen and Rhodes, 2008). Moreover, since hubris is implicated heavily in the issues of leaders’ judgment and decision making there is also a pressing need to scrutinize the real-time psychological processes which may underpin the manifestation of hubris in leadership. This is the focus of our discussions and the core contribution of our argument.
We will draw on theoretical resources from the psychological sciences to explore the cognitive and affective processes that may ‘go awry’ and lead to the hubristic traits noted earlier. In particular, we will argue that the functioning of intuition is a central cognitive factor, and that when intuition becomes misunderstood, unchecked or unbridled within the ‘cognitive economy’ of a powerful individual hubristic behaviour is more likely to appear.
Hubris, nemesis and the ‘Hubris Syndrome’
In ancient Greece ‘hubris’ described behaviour in which a leader or other powerful individual who was intoxicated with excessive pride, unfaltering self-belief and overweening self-confidence treated others with disregard, disrespect and contempt. The classical narrative is moralistic in that power and unremitting self-regard eventually ‘go to the head’ of a hubristic leader to the extent that s/he misperceives, misinterprets and misjudges the realities of the situation and make serious and fatal errors of judgment (e.g. the Dædalus-Icarus episode in the Metamorphóses 1 ). A fall from grace and retribution in the form of nemesis (after the Greek god Némesis) follows, construed as punishment and revenge for the individual’s having had the temerity to assume ‘god-like’ powers and thereby attempting to usurp the authority of divine beings.
Symptoms of Hubris Syndrome and correspondences with personality disorders.
Source: Owen and Davidson (2009).
To validate these diagnostic criteria, Owen and Davidson (2009) considered the leadership behaviours of the 18 US Presidents and the 26 UK Prime Ministers who have held offices since 1908 against these criteria. They concluded that it was possible to ascribe Hubris Syndrome to at least one US President (George W. Bush) and four UK Prime Ministers (David Lloyd George, Neville Chamberlain, Margaret Thatcher and Tony Blair).
Owen (2011) speculated on the psychiatric and neurobiological bases of Hubris Syndrome. First, he noted that Hubris Syndrome shares common elements with narcissistic and sociopathic personality disorders (e.g. poor decision making, impulse control and modulation of aggression, and lack of appropriate empathy). Second, he hypothesized that deficiencies of serotonin (which is involved in the regulation of decision making and punishment-related information) could be implicated in Hubris Syndrome. Third, he suggested that the neurobiological effects of conscious expectation observed in laboratory studies mirror the conscious exhilaration and intoxication associated with Hubris Syndrome. Finally, Owen noted that dopaminergic receptors facilitate the type of addictive behaviour which may be associated with the ‘high’ that accompanies the influence of power and also may underpin tendencies towards grandiosity and associated impairments to risk appraisal and the ability to foresee undesirable outcomes. It is interesting that recent evidence examining the role of the endocrine system in financial risk taking has found that the cognitive and behavioural effects of testosterone and cortisol may shift traders’ risk preferences towards taking ever-higher risks and also deleteriously affect their ability to engage in rational choice (Coates, 2012; Coates and Herbert, 2008). In sum: whilst management and organization researchers have studied the psychiatric and personality-related antecedents and correlates of Hubris Syndrome, they have neglected its relationships with cognition and affect (including intuition).
Hubris in business leadership
Research has yet to formally establish the incidence of Hubris Syndrome per se amongst senior business leaders. However, it seems likely that the power and status associated with senior executive positions in organizations could be a fertile breeding ground for this condition to develop and proliferate, with damaging consequences on a scale similar to those seen in politics. Hayward (2007) suggested that such figures as Warren Buffett, Steve Jobs and Jack Welch appear to have developed hubristic traits at various stages of their careers. From the perspective of behavioural decision theory (see Gilovich et al., 2002; Henrion and Fischhoff, 2002) hubristic CEOs possess a degree of certainty about the accuracy of their judgments exceeding the accuracy of their predictions (see Hayward, 2007). CEO hubris amounts to one form – albeit with major real-world implications – of cognitive bias and is worthy of the attentions of decision researchers.
In the business world, the ‘hubris hypothesis’ was first posited by Roll (1986) in a study of corporate mergers and acquisitions. Roll suggested that bidding-firm managers make mistakes in evaluating the worth of target firms, but undertake the acquisitions anyway with the ‘overbearing presumption’ that their valuations are correct but which results in them paying too much for their targets (Roll, 1986: 200). Serial (we might say compulsive) acquisition behaviours have been taken as a potential indicator of hubris by Sonnenfeld (2011). He suggested that CEO intuitions have a habit of overriding rational analyses particularly where a successful but hubristic CEO (such as former Vodafone boss Chris Gent) had a track record of gambles that happen to have paid-off to their credit (Smit and Moraitis, 2010).
Researchers have suggested two main mechanisms that might underlie this kind of overconfidence and propensity to risk taking. First, hubristic CEOs may overestimate their own problem-solving capabilities and their company’s resource capabilities, second, they may tend to underestimate the resources required and the uncertainties faced (Kahneman and Lovallo, 1993; March and Shapira, 1987; Shane and Stuart, 2002) and thereby present themselves with a simplified and optimistic picture of the situation they face. Li and Tang (2010), for example, found a positive relationship between CEO hubris and risk taking in Chinese firms amplified by market complexity, an abundance of intangible resources, when the CEO chairs the board, and when the CEO is not a political appointee.
Hubris at Lehmans.
Leaders, CEOs and entrepreneurs by virtue of their position and power do not have as many ‘social correctives’ as do other employees: they are, in their relative isolation, especially vulnerable to hubris (Dunning et al., 2004). When Fred Goodwin (formerly ‘Sir Fred Goodwin’), ex-CEO of the Royal Bank of Scotland, proposed buying the Dutch Bank ABN-Amro (a deal which went ahead, but eventually back-fired disastrously) there were sceptics within the organization but Goodwin choose hubristically to ignore them (Birkinshaw, 2012). A further example is to be found in Richard Fuld’s leadership at Lehman Brothers (see Table 2). Corporate hubris can also operate at company level where leaders can ‘infect’ the organization in which they work. This notion has been developed by Owen (2009a) in his updated autobiography, drawing on his recent experience of international business and citing Enron, HBOS and BP. We will return to the issue of the social moderation of hubris in a later section.
Hayward and Hambrick (1997) identified four sources of CEO hubris:
A track record of recent organizational success. While this is obviously no bad thing in itself, it runs the risk of fuelling hubris when such successes are credited exclusively to CEOs when in fact they could be more objectively attributed to extraneous factors. Moreover a presumption that ‘successes breed successes’ may lead to an overreliance on simplistic formulae (akin to cognitive heuristics and, as we argue below, intuitions) for managing complex situations. Such beliefs become self-serving and uncritical, exacerbating overreliance on convergent thinking whilst diminishing experimentation (and thereby militating against creativity, see Amabile, 1998), and inflating CEOs’ self-belief both in their abilities and expectations of success. Media praise and ‘celebrity status’ of a CEO creates a romantic, larger-than-life and heroic aura of talent and invincibility that CEOs themselves may eventually come to believe. Part of this mystique often involves the myth of an infallible intuition. CEOs are often depicted as ‘in control’, highly efficacious, ‘macho’ leaders who can ‘manage from the gut’. For example, Straight from the Gut is the sub-title of the best-selling CEO biography of Jack Welch, considered by some to have been infected by hubris at various points in his career. Interestingly though, Welch exhibited self-awareness and discernment when he referred to confidence as being a ‘razor’s edge’, recognizing its ‘dark side’ (see Conger, 1990), which may lead to bosses getting ‘too full of themselves’ and falling victim to hubris (Hayward, 2007: 14). CEO’s systemically inflated views of their own abilities and skills due not to demonstrable accomplishments but to inflated ego and self-importance (to the point of delusions of grandeur). Weak board vigilance often associated with a powerful CEO as board chair, a high proportion of ‘insiders’ on the board and small levels of company stock holdings by outside members of the board. The deleterious effect of this is that any restraints on CEO hubris that an effective board ought to provide are diminished or remain in abeyance until a crisis occurs.
In relation to Hayward and Hambrick’s fourth point, recent British experience where hubristic leaders have not been controlled by their chairpersons means the assumption that corporate governance is better assured through splitting, rather than fusing, the role of CEO and Chairman of the Board (the so-called CEO duality, see Rechner and Dalton, 1991) needs at least to be reassessed. Perhaps much depends on the personalities of the individuals concerned: some personalities are capable of combining the role whilst others work better where there is a split, and that the shape of the board of a public company (i.e. in the UK a company that has issued securities through a public offering on a stock market) is better varied in the light of circumstances.
Finally, we also note Hiller and Hambrick’s (2005) linking of CEO hubris to the construct of core self-evaluation (CSE). Core self-evaluation (CSE) comprises self-esteem, self-efficacy, locus of control and emotional stability. Hiller and Hambrick hypothesized that CEOs with high levels of core self-evaluation (CSE) (referred to as ‘hyper-CSEs’) are likely to engage in non-inclusive, fast and centralized strategic decision making in the context of large-scale, high-stakes initiatives that deviate from industry norms. Such individuals will pursue these initiatives with persistence that leads to extreme performance (including errors). Hayward (2007) offers numerous examples of such behaviours and their consequences.
Intuition and hubris
Having explored hubris and Hubris Syndrome, we now turn to the second of our two guiding concepts, intuition, which we argue is of central relevance to understanding the cognitive and affective processes which, when they go awry, may contribute to hubristic leadership and which have been neglected thus far in leadership research. Intuitions are ‘affectively charged judgments that arise through rapid, non-conscious and holistic associations’ (Dane and Pratt, 2007: 40) which emerge as a combination of cognition and affect (Hodgkinson et al., 2009). Such intuitive promptings may come with a degree of tentativeness (sometimes referred to as ‘hunches’, ‘vibes’ or ‘inklings’, see Epstein et al., 1996) or with a stronger feeling of value or correctness (referred to as ‘inspirations’, ‘brainwaves’ or ‘insights’, see Dörfler and Ackermann, 2012). Intuition involves a mental leap. It is not part of a logical continuum or the steady application of reasoning ending with a commonsensical judgement. The leap is often ascribed to being one of experience, instinct or faith. As well as varying in intensity, they may also vary in their valence (positive signalling ‘attraction’; negative signalling ‘avoidance’, see Sadler-Smith, 2010). It is the feeling of certainty or validity without explicit justification that becomes inflated in hubris. Even though intuitions have been disdained (Bonabeau, 2003; Miller and Ireland, 2005) senior professionals are often quite happy to admit in private that they treat their intuitions as a valued resource (Burke and Miller, 1999; Hensman and Sadler-Smith, 2011).
The use of intuition, and the openness about its use, is positively associated with seniority and concomitantly power in business organizations (Allinson and Hayes, 1996; Hodgkinson and Sadler-Smith, 2003). Unlike hubris which has clearly negative connotations, intuition has recently come to be viewed as a positive management and leadership attribute to the extent that ‘gut instinct’ or ‘gut feel’ is considered to be as important an asset as rational analysis (Hayashi, 2001; Hodgkinson et al., 2009; Sadler-Smith and Shefy, 2004). Gardner (2006) summarized leadership intuitions as the ‘feeling for the right move in a particular situation’ (p. 110 emphasis added).
In the arena of political leadership, the word ‘intuition’ is increasingly, but questionably, cited as a hallmark of good leadership (see Board, 2012 for a review). The UK Labour politician and one of the architects of the ‘New Labour’ project Peter Mandelson (2010) reported the view that Prime Minister Tony Blair held of his Chancellor of the Exchequer (and ultimately his successor) Gordon Brown: Whilst Gordon had the intelligence, and the ideas, the drive and the determination to make a success of government, ‘none of that is the most important thing for a politician. It is intuition - what to do, when to do it, how to say it, how to bring people along’. (Mandelson, 2010: 10). Intuition, of course, was a political gift that Tony himself had in spades, and it helped guide every step the three of us [New Labour ‘spin doctor’ Alistair Campbell being the other] had taken in the long campaign to make Labour a party of government again. (Mandelson, 2010: 10 emphases and brackets added) George Bush was straightforward and direct. The stupidest misconception was that he was stupid. He also had (has) great intuition. But his intuition was less – as in the case of Bill [Clinton] – about politics and more about what he thought was right or wrong. This wasn’t expressed analytically or intellectually. It was just stated. … I would be at a press conference with him, in the epicentre of those world-changing events, and I would think ‘George, explain it; don't just say it’. (Blair, 2010: 5) caught in an echo chamber of his own making, cut off from everyone other than a circle around him, that’s tiny and getting smaller and in concert on everything, a circle that conceals him from public view and keeps him away from the one thing he needs most: honest, disinterested perspectives about what’s real and what the hell he might do about it. (Suskind, 2004: 293)
Intuitive decision making can be a double-edged sword for, even though based on reasoning or perception (albeit ‘compressed’ or ‘frozen into habit’), it still has a leap of the imagination within it which may compound but also confound reason, thereby rendering it both powerful and perilous (Myers, 2002). To someone with a wealth of experience, the vague feeling that something in a situation ‘doesn’t stack up’ or is ‘out of kilter’, for example, often leads to appropriate and effective action before any more conscious or rigorous analysis is available. Not only have such actions been shown to be prescient and wise (Klein, 1998; Simon, 1987), in the realm of creativity the value of intuition is widely recognized (Bowers et al., 1990; Claxton, 1997, 2005; Policastro, 1995). Many Nobel laureates in science, for example, claim to have relied on intuition as part of their cognitive repertoire (Fensham and Marton, 1992). Thus, even it was possible for leaders to be completely rational it would not necessarily be desirable.
Yet on the other hand intuitions are also notoriously fallible – as gamblers and romantics can regularly attest (Myers, 2002) and, interestingly there is also a relationship of hubris to pathological gambling (Owen and Davidson, 2009). In laboratory settings intuitive judgements have been shown to be systematically wrong (Gilovich et al., 2002) but nonetheless they are ‘rarely in doubt’ therefore an uncritical or hubristic attitude towards one’s own hunches and inspirations can be perilous (Bonabeau, 2003; Miller and Ireland, 2005). Broadly, it seems as if an attitude of ‘sceptical heed’ towards such intuitive promptings offers a middle way for the intuitively intelligent decision maker to adopt. If intuition is simultaneously both invaluable and untrustworthy in real-world decision-making situations (Kahneman and Klein, 2009) political and business leaders should be wary of its powers and its perils.
Sources of intuition in hubris
The cognitive substrates of intuitive expertise are thought to be deep, experience-based knowledge structures referred to by Dane and Pratt (2007) as ‘complex domain-relevant schemas’ as opposed to generic notions of ‘common sense’. This view has led to the coining recently of the terms ‘intuitive expertise’ (Kahneman and Klein, 2009) and ‘expert intuition’ (Salas et al., 2010). We suggest that it may be fruitful to think of these structures as composed of some explicit (verbalized) knowledge and reflection, mixed-in with the rich and extensive mental residues of unarticulated, and sometimes non-conscious, experience. When novel configurations of these residues are activated by a combination of new problems, unprecedented experience and/or creative trains of thought, they may resonate with problem representations, but not be in a form that is amenable to immediate and direct translation into conscious ideas. Nevertheless, the resonance between these rich schemas and the problem specification may be sufficiently strong to create some more indirect, imagistic or visceral kinds of perturbation in conscious awareness – it is these that we call ‘intuitions’, ‘gut feelings’ or ‘hunches’ (Claxton, 2005). For example, Franklin D. Roosevelt’s political leadership had an ‘unscripted side to it’ (Hoogenboezem, 2007: 138), which Jenkins (2003: 2) referred to as ‘improvisatory’, but which perhaps is better described as intuitive and insightful: Then one evening he suddenly came out with it [the Lend-Lease plan] – the whole program. He didn’t seem to have any clear idea how it could be done legally. But there wasn’t any doubt in his mind that he’d find any way to do it. (Harry Hopkins cited in Hoogenboezem, 2007: 138–139).
Intuition checked
Recently, several theorists have suggested that it is precisely because of this valuable but unreliable nature of intuition that we have developed (or co-evolved) other social and cognitive systems to complement and sometimes impose ‘checks’ on intuitive ways of knowing. Most common amongst these complementary cognitive systems is that associated with conscious reason and deliberation. Intuition and reason are no longer seen as ‘locked in mortal combat’, but as being yoked together in a mutually advantageous partnership. ‘Dual-process’ theories were described by Evans (2003: 454) as essentially positing ‘two minds in one brain’ and encapsulate the complementarity between the two systems in a number of overlapping ways: for example, rational vs. experiential, associative vs. rule based, intuitive vs. analytic, reflective vs. reflexive, etc. Essentially, what has come to be called ‘System 1’ relies on processes that are context-dependent, automatic, largely unconscious, associative, intuitive, implicit and fast, while ‘System 2’ processes are context-independent, analytic, rule-based, explicit and relatively slow (Stanovich and West, 2000).
Reason and intuition tended previously to be depicted as alternatives rather than complementary, thus suggesting that one could function in either mode but not both (Allinson and Hayes, 1996). The dual systems’ view allows for the possibility that both can be fully active at the same time and hence the coupling of high levels of intuition simultaneously with high levels of analysis (Hodgkinson and Clarke, 2007; Hodgkinson and Sadler-Smith, 2003). Louis and Sutton (1991) referred this as the capability to ‘switch cognitive gears’ whilst Hodgkinson and Clarke (2007) labelled it ‘cognitive versatility’ (see Figure 1(a)).
The crowding-out and de-coupling of intuition and analysis associated with hubris.
The regulatory or modulatory influence of analysis (a ‘System 2’ process) on intuition (a System 1 process) is, in most of these models, seen as both vital and problematic. The two systems may operate harmoniously, but they may also compete for overall control (Epstein et al., 1996). The strong valence associated with ‘gut feel’, ‘hunch’ or ‘vibe’ serves as a fast and efficient marker as to whether to trust, select or approach a particular situation, or to distrust, reject or avoid it. Such intuitive reactions effectively narrow down the range of options, making decision making easier and faster. This can be advantageous when speed is of the essence, and when the markers themselves are trustworthy. However, in the highly complex and uncertain environments in which many political and business leaders operate, reflex reliance on such compelling markers, without checking their validity, can have negative consequences (Bonabeau, 2003; Miller and Ireland, 2005). The relative ‘power’ of the two systems, in the overall cognitive economy of an individual, may not be immediately obvious. ‘The experiential [intuitive] system (System 1) may continue to influence the rational system (System 2) no matter how much a person attempts to be completely rational’ (Pacini and Epstein, 1999: 477). In other words, rationality becomes not a genuine check on intuition, but merely a rationale for it. For example, recent research in the field of intuitive ethics indicates that post hoc rationalizations are often used to justify moral judgments arrived via intuition as opposed to rational analysis (Haidt, 2012; Reynolds, 2006). It might not therefore be surprising if such after-the-fact justifications occurred in other decision-making realms.
Over time, one mode may come to gain habitual control or dominance, manifesting as a ‘chronic preference’ (Betsch, 2004) or an embedded ‘cognitive style’. This stylistic preference or dominance may become consolidated to an extent over the life span, but it may also oscillate in particular situations or contexts and are be more state- than trait-like (see Zhang and Sternberg, 2005). For example, in the arena of political leadership Tony Blair – adjudged by Owen and Davidson (2009) to have developed Hubris Syndrome as prime minister by 2001 – said that when he was younger he paid more regard to ‘intellect’ (rational analysis) than ‘judgment’ (intuition) but as he became older he gave greater regard to the latter. Wheatcroft, writing in 2004, also observed that Blair’s disposition during his prime ministerial years was ‘intuitive rather than analytical’. This resonates with recent findings reported by See et al. (2011) in which it was found that power can exacerbate tendencies for people to overweigh their own initial judgment to the extent that the most powerful decision makers can also be the least accurate.
We propose that System 2 is not the only system that has evolved to check the potentially seductive appeal of the intuitive System 1. Claxton (1997, 2005) has suggested that we are also able to invoke a ‘contemplative mode’ in which we restrain the fast intuitive impulse and allow a slower and broader evaluation of potential consequences or pitfalls to emerge into conscious awareness. To use a neural metaphor, it is as if we are able to dam the flow of neural activation, temporarily interrupting its progress towards action, and allowing activation to build-up and potentially spill over into other neural pathways that would not have become activated otherwise. Experientially, this process of ‘mulling’, ‘pondering’ or ‘ruminating’ is not accompanied by explicit, rational trains of thought, but allows a wider set of considerations to ‘come to mind’ and thus contribute to the decision-making process. Whereas System 1 tends to take its first suggestion for granted, by invoking the contemplative mode we are able to say ‘Not so fast’, thereby providing an additional set of checks and balances that might prevent hasty, partial or biased decision making.
Finally, we might note that there is also a social or interpretive mode – that of public or private discussion, dialogue and debate to check intuitive certainties. For example, returning to the case of Roosevelt, Owen (2008: 368) attributes Roosevelt’s misjudgement in the packing of the Supreme Court in the summer of 1937 to the death in April of the previous year of his ‘indispensable adviser’ Louis Howe who saw his job as providing the ‘toe-holds’ for Roosevelt. Howe was Roosevelt’s ‘balance wheel’ in the same way that Bonar Lloyd held Lloyd George’s hubris in check as did Willie Whitelaw with Margaret Thatcher’s. Whereas Systems 1 and 2 and the internal dialogue of the contemplative mode are psychological or ‘intra-psychic’, the social or interpretive mode sends candidate decisions out into the ‘air-waves’ and invites scrutiny through external rather than internal dialogue. At an informal level in the business world we might just use a trusted close colleague as a ‘sounding board’ or ‘devil’s advocate’ for our developing ideas whilst more formally we might cite board meetings in a company or the workings of parliamentary democracy as requiring institutionalized checks of intuitively generated propositions.
Intuition unchecked
Our proposal is that when leaders come to overestimate the reliability and validity of their intuitions, and progressively dispense with the vital checking processes afforded by the complementary System 2 and social processes of reason, contemplation and debate, their decision making is more likely to have developed Hubris Syndrome (see Figure 1(b) and (c)). Understanding the interlocking functions of these different mental modes, it behoves those whose decisions affect the lives of others to be on-guard against the perils of unbridled intuition – whilst, at the same time, not neglecting or disparaging the potential value that intuition may bring. A well-orchestrated balancing act is required to be as wise and ‘practically intelligent’ as possible (Sternberg and Wagner, 1986). On the other hand, hubristic individuals may become reckless if they dispense with this delicate system of checks and balances. When leaders’ intuitions are given free rein and go unchallenged by other senior members of the leadership or management team, and when leaders are starved of feedback on the consequences of their actions (see Hogarth, 2010), their intuitions are likely to be deployed more indiscriminately and inaccurately, thereby fuelling hubris. When they are acquired, honed and exercised under constraint in situations where there is good feedback, naysayers have a voice, challenge is welcomed and devil’s advocacy is listened to tendencies to hubris are moderated. There is an extensive literature on ‘employee voice’, dissent and the value of critical upward feedback (for example, Morrison, 2011; Morrison and Milliken, 2000; Tourish and Robson, 2006). Powerful leaders can constrain the opportunities for critical constructive feedback; this can have negative consequences both for the individual and the organization. 3 Since hubristic leaders do not self-check their intuitions it is not enough to say that leaders should be reflective when making decisions, followers potentially are the most potent of sounding boards and followership (see Crossman and Crossman, 2011) and co-leadership (Heenan and Bennis, 1999) can bridle and check the perils of intuition and resultant hubris.
There are many examples of this epistemic breakdown. The late Steve Jobs was undoubtedly one of the most brilliant business leaders of his generation. Tina Redse, who lived with Jobs for five years until 1989, and about whom Jobs said ‘I don’t know that anyone will ever understand me better than she did’, after reading a psychiatric manual about NPD felt Jobs perfectly met the criteria: ‘it fits so well and explains so much of what we had struggled with, that I realized expecting him to be nicer or less self-centred was like expecting a blind man to see…and the capacity for empathy is lacking’ (Isaacson, 2001: 263–266). Hayward writing in 1997 considered that Jobs displayed overweening pride (one of the signs of hubris), and argued that during his failed sojourn at NeXT, Jobs ‘relied too heavily on his own gut, rather than get the right help or seek external feedback’ (p. 72). In Jobs’ own words ‘you always have to keep pushing to innovate’. That ‘push’ may have stemmed in large part from a visit Jobs made to India in 1974 and discovering Zen Buddhism which had a deep influence on him throughout his life: He attributed his ability to focus and his love of simplicity to his Zen training. It honed his appreciation for intuition, showed him how to filter out anything that was distracting or unnecessary, and nurtured in him an aesthetic based on minimalism. (Isaacson, 2011: 564). Hubris in the case of Iraq invasion of 2003.
A more nuanced approach to intuition than is witnessed in the cases above may be detected in recent decisions by President Obama. When questioned by CBS news on the decision to approve the raid to kill Osama Bin-Laden, the President stated: the thing about gut instinct is if it works then you think, ‘Boy, I have good instincts.’ If it doesn’t, then you’re gonna be running back in your mind all the things that told you maybe you shouldn’t have done it. Obviously I had enough of an instinct that we could be right, but it was worth doing.
4
CNN: Do you have some sort of sounding board you use, for when you see something that strikes maybe you as a good idea, but you’re not really sure if this is going to catch on, or is this really gonna be the big idea. Who do you ask? Gates: Well, if I think something’s going to catch on, I trust my own intuition. CNN: And you’re never wrong? Gates: No, I’m often wrong, but my batting record is good enough that I keep swinging every time the ball is thrown.
More dangerously still, ‘gut feel’ and ideology may become conflated so much so that hubristic leaders become indifferent or impervious to relevant information and intelligence which does not support the ideology driving their intuitive judgements (Suskind cited in Owen, 2012: 110). Wheatcroft (2004) described Tony Blair as ‘Antinomian’, 6 so convinced of his moral rightness and his ‘inner virtue [which] justifies whatever means he chooses to employ’. In the political arena the unbridling of intuition resonates with piousness, moral rectitude and a messianic vision to ‘put things right’. For example, the complexities of managing a post-war Iraq were subordinated to the purpose of deposing a ‘devil incarnate’ in the fight against ‘evil’ in what amounted to a ‘moral crusade’: ‘Blair seemed wholly uninterested in Iraq as a complex and puzzling political society, wanting confirmation merely that deposing Saddam Hussein would remove “evil” from the country’ (Tripp, 2007: 30). Taking this argument a step further provides a link to superstitious reasoning, including beliefs in the paranormal (Peltzer, 2003) as well as transcendent, non-scientific forms of knowing (e.g. those associated with religious beliefs, Armstrong, 2009) which are widespread and enduring in human society (King et al., 2007). Faith in intuition has been found to be related to superstitious reasoning (Aarnio and Lindeman, 2005; Epstein et al., 1996; Svedholm and Lindeman, 2012; Wolfdradt et al., 1999). The experiential (intuitive) system is thought to be ‘crucial to the emergence of paranormal and superstitious beliefs and the persistence of these beliefs in the face of contradictory information’ (King et al., 2007: 907). Furthermore, Epstein (1994: 712) argued that religion is ‘better suited’ than analytical thinking for communicating with the experiential (intuitive) system and does so through narratives (e.g. emotionally charged parables and stories) and images (in a variety of modalities including visual, aural and olfactory) which appeal directly to intuitive processing.
As far back as 2004 religious motivations appeared to be guiding Bush’s attitudes to war in the Middle East. Commentators observed that an ‘instinct’ told him that ‘God’ had given him a mission to rid the world of Al-Qaeda and Islamic fundamentalism, hence it was acceptable to dispense with analysis and ignore inconvenient facts (Suskind, 2004). When current US Vice-President Joe Biden expressed his concerns about the situation in post-war Iraq directly to the President shortly after the 2003 invasion: Bush, Biden recalled, just looked at him, unflappably sure that the United States was on the right course and that all was well. ‘Mr. President,’ I finally said, ‘how can you be so sure when you know you don't know the facts?’. Biden said that Bush stood up and put his hand on the senator’s shoulder. ‘My instincts,’ he said. ‘My instincts’. (Suskind, 2004)
Summary, implications and conclusions
In management and organization studies, many scholars accept that intuition is a valid component of decision making if it is grounded in relevant expertise and subjected to appropriate checks and balances. The educating and bridling of managers’ and leaders’ intuition has important practical implications for the governance and management of institutions and organizations. When the intuitive and analytical systems are in balance, the feeling of rightness is subject to analysis and evaluation through conscious deliberation and discussion, quiet reflection and debate and public testing (Figure 1(a)). Judgments are held back while public and private appraisal takes place. In Hubris Syndrome the feeling of rightness is self-strengthened and operates unchecked. The switching between the reflexive intuitive mode and the reflective analytical mode does not take place, self-checking breaks down, intuition ‘crowds-out’ rational analysis (Figure 1(b)) and the leader becomes ‘stuck’ in an intuitive mode in which facts are ignored and naysayers dismissed (sometimes literally). At the same time a feeling of rightness becomes generalized, no longer being attached to specific intuitive judgments, but is construed as a trait of the actor (‘I feel right’ rather than ‘it feels right’).
The reflective analytical mode (which ideally must operate as a check and balance on intuitions) becomes misapplied and misappropriated: argument is not used to critique the feeling of rightness, instead it is used to justify and protect it. Public dialogue may also be abused, so that instead of being tested in public debate, ‘discussion’ and ‘dialogue’ are pre-orchestrated, supported by sycophants and dissenters seen as disloyal, dossiers may be ‘sexed up’ and unbridled intuition justifies Machiavellianism. Not only do reasoning, contemplating and debating break down, but the feeling of rightness may also be concealed under a cloak of humility, sometimes religious humility proffered as deference to and projection on to a higher agent (e.g. ‘In fighting evil I am doing God’s work’) (Figure 1(c)).
The potential solutions to the unbridling of intuition and its associated effects on Hubris Syndrome are both social as well as cognitive. Social solutions include the institutionalization of checks and balances on leaders’ decisions to provide a buffer against hubristic leaders who are excessively controlling the senior management team, who chair boards or ride rough shod over cabinet systems of government (the value of followership and co-leadership was noted earlier). Cognitive solutions include the maintenance of learning environments which support the development of good judgment and militate against the development of bad judgment. Mechanisms such as dialogue and devil’s advocacy (Sadler-Smith and Shefy, 2004), and balancing reflection with ‘reflexion’ (Reynolds, 2006) may afford reliable and valid feedback on the processes and consequences of intuitive decision making.
Our argument has been that intuition is an under-researched cognitive and affective antecedent of hubris which, if it becomes unbridled, contributes to hubristic leadership. The question of whether leaders’ hubris is a state which abates once power is lost (Owen, 2012) or whether it is more like enduring trait (see Antonakis et al., 2011) is a question for further research. Other questions include examining the relationships between Hubris Syndrome and narcissism, narcissistic leadership (Maccoby, 2004), charismatic leadership, Prozac leadership (Collinson, 2012), various ‘darker side’ leadership attributes and traits (Conger, 1990) as well as its relationship to the various leadership and career ‘derailment’ factors postulated by Hogan and Hogan (2001). 7
A hubristic predisposition allied to ideological instinct or to unbridled intuition is a perilous mix to have at the top of any political institution or business organization. Steps should be taken to safeguard against this situation arising. In general, measures need to be put in place to prevent the various modes of processing that underpin complex decision making becoming disconnected or unbalanced. Ideally, such measures would ensure that those chosen to lead do not succumb to hubris in the first place; if it does arise, systems of governance, management and appropriate learning structures ought to be in place to militate against it and its consequences. Holding hubristic leaders to account in the short term could prevent the longer-term and damaging consequences of their self-serving actions.
Footnotes
Notes
Author biographies
) established in 2010 to promote research on a multidisciplinary basis into personality changes associated with the exercise of power in all walks of life. He served on the Board of Abbott Laboratories from 1996–2011. He currently has business interests in America, Russia and the UK.
