I have two answers to that question:

1)       There’s never been a time in history we have needed educated, ethical business leadership more than we do now, and the place to find those abilities is among liberal arts grads.  The ability to think critically, write well, read between the lines and understand human behavior aren’t just “nice-to-haves” in business.  They’re critical.

2)         We must put intention into action.  Or—with apologies to Nike—“Just do it!”

Much research has been done about the relevance and importance of the liberal arts, how specialized vocational education will leave us bereft of creativity, strategic thinking, cultural competence, and adaptability in our workforce.  It’s time to move beyond the persuasive argument, and take action.  Let’s get liberal arts students ready for employment opportunities. Let’s get in front of Human Resources recruiters and tell them what “skills” to hire.  Let’s direct liberal arts grads into utilities, finance, hospitality, technology, transportation, retail, insurance, and government—where they are very much needed.

That’s why I do what I do.  Because we need it and it’s time.

            I don’t know anyone who doesn’t wish this economic calamity was behind us.  Some hope we simply recover to a point of stability; others would rather see the kind of tenuous prosperity we enjoyed not long ago become the norm again.  We’re all painfully aware of the personal impact—loss of jobs, the limitations of unemployment benefits, the threat (or reality) of losing one’s health insurance, home, savings, all of it. 

            But which way is out? 

           First, let’s look at which way was “in.”  We got here because we naively over-relied on complex, under-monitored financial systems that, for awhile, seemed to deliver considerable gains—on paper, anyway.  We got here because we adopted the view that success is measured by ever-improving financial outcomes, and whether the bottom line improves because the business operations underneath the financial reports have integrity, serve a purpose or perform some greater good is, at best, a secondary consideration.

            Now what does all this have to do with a liberal arts education?  Certainly I’m not suggesting better communication skills and analytical ability could have saved us.  And indeed, it isn’t a lack of analytical skills that caused this problem.  The analysis underpinning these financial gyrations is complex, some say unfathomably complex.  So what, then, is missing that leadership from the liberal arts would have noticed?

            There’s more to a liberal education than communication skills and analytical ability.  Part of the value of the liberal arts is that it encourages us to address “The Big Questions”:  “Who are we?”  “What are we doing here?”  “What is needed?”  A liberal education asks us to consider how and when to address these kinds of important questions, questions for which there is no one right answer, questions which require continuous re-thinking and course alteration.

            When business leaders aren’t guided by The Big Questions (“What should one hope for in the world?” “What is our contribution?”), they’re guided by the small questions (“How can I maximize profit?”)  And that’s how we got here.

            Our return to stability, even prosperity, isn’t a matter of restoring the recent norms.  It’s a matter of re-thinking our approach, putting in place products and services that fortify people and communities, and at least that attempt to address these Big Questions.  Putting Big Questions ahead of small ones (ahead of, not instead of) is a job for people prepared with a liberal education.

             As I’ve said elsewhere on this blog, and will say again, liberal arts-educated students should be headed for business leadership.  Business will never address The Big Questions if we keep putting in place business leaders who are prepared to answer only the small ones.

            I was reminded of the play by Joseph Badaracco, Jr., whose unusual book Questions of Character: Illuminating the Heart of Leadership Through Literature, explores aspects of leadership as they show up in literary characters.  I read the book this past weekend (between baking, wrapping, unwrapping, cleaning up—it was Christmas, after all).  I’ve read dozens of leadership books, and most of them attempt to articulate the rather obvious “how to’s” of leadership—be authentic, articulate your vision, keep your promises, lead a balanced life, and so on.  Badaracco’s book, instead, is about the nuances of leadership, how they are revealed and why they are effective.

            Sir Thomas More tries to reconcile principles and pragmatism, according to Badaracco, thereby navigating dangerous territory.  It isn’t the case, however, that principles trump pragmatism, as you might expect.  This is the leadership of nuance, not stark contrast, and therefore both (principles and pragmatism) prevail.  Yes, ultimately More dies for his beliefs, but not before he manages to sustain relationships with people who disagree with him.  He does this, Badaracco points out, in one case by inviting others to share his level of conviction—not his opinion, just his level of commitment to it.  The Duke of Norfolk asks why More won’t join them (those who agree with the king) out of “fellowship.” More replies that, at the gates of heaven when Norfolk heads for paradise because he held to his convictions, and More is damned for not following his, will Norfolk then join More out of “fellowship”?—a subtle way to share the difficulty of his situation.

            I didn’t mean this to be a book review, exactly, simply to point out there are many examples of leadership within Questions of Character, examples drawn from works by Joseph Conrad, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Sophocles, among others.  While I really enjoyed Mr. Badaracco’s explorations of great characters in the context of leadership, I’m not convinced that teaching literature to business leaders is as effective as teaching business practices to people who’ve been reading and taking in the lessons of great books for some time.  Retrofitting business people with the lessons of literature is a very tall order, not something most businesses are likely to set aside time for.

            I closed the last page on Questions of Character more convinced than ever that great literature equips great leaders with examples to follow, questions to ponder, ambiguity to live with, and complexity to unravel.  These are the essential elements, and despite the dozens of leadership books on the market, Mr. Badaracco demonstrates yet again there is no add-water-and-stir , “top 10,” “one minute,” weekend-workshop approach to becoming a leader.

In the class, we explore personal and social characteristics that help leaders really lead, and by that I mean rally teams, overcome obstacles, manage change.  In some circles, and certainly in the class, these abilities are known collectively as “Emotional Intelligence” (EI).  Beyond cognitive understanding, beyond technical expertise, what sets apart exceptional performers and outstanding leaders from also-rans is this:  They’re confident, compassionate, optimistic, service-oriented and–therefore–influential.

We use the work of psychologist Daniel Goleman, specifically his book Working with Emotional Intelligence, as a framework for talking about this otherwise murky territory. Goleman gives us a model of 25 “competencies” (his word) to consider, and in the class we deeply investigate 11 of them most relevant to project leadership. We also discuss how to improve in each area. How does one become more self confident? More optimistic? What does it take to be a better listener or a better collaborator?

You don’t have to think about it for more than a minute to realize there’s no add-water-and-stir solution for better EI.  Our EI is shaped by experience, role models, nature, maturity, self awareness and education.  But what kind of education develops emotional intelligence?  I’m sure you won’t be hugely surprised if I suggest that a liberal arts education helps develop EI.  For a moment, I’ll pick specifically on English, on the study of literature and, more specifically, novels.  I’m not talking about a light read with an engaging plot and lots of pages, the kind of book you’re happy to partner up with on a long flight.  I’m talking about an enduring piece of work, something that’s already stood the test of time and literary critics, the kind of book you read and remember, with characters you can’t shake, whose thoughts you remember, whose actions you re-live and wonder about afterwards.  Books that stay with you, in other words.

How do great books make you more “emotionally intelligent”?  By taking you inside what drives other people–their experience, their distortions, their agendas, oddities, misunderstandings, strengths, misgivings.  Where better to learn to “understand others” (an EI competency in the Goleman model) than by getting inside the memorable and enduring characters in great fiction?

We talked about this in my EI for Project Managers class.  I was heartened to discover several of them enjoy good fiction regularly.  One said she recently re-read Anna Karenina.  Wow.  The emotional realities of project management pale by comparison!  I confess I haven’t read much Russian literature.  (I love the plays, though.  The Cherry Orchard–now there’s a lesson for business leaders!)

When we discussed the EI competency known as “Achievement Drive,” one aspect we examined was the importance of believing in the work you do, which is hard when all the chat at work is about “profit” and rarely about “purpose.”  Nonetheless, many of the seasoned Project Managers in this class had a genuine sense of purpose about their respective projects.  One construction project manager said he found it easy to share his achievement drive with others on his team because they were all glad to be building a new city library.  After our conversations in class about how great literature can prepare you for great project management, he said he was even more delighted to be working on that particular project.

As the class drew to a close, we reviewed the various social characteristics of EI (communication, empathy, political awareness), and we shared some of the ways we’d pursue continuous improvement in the future.  It was at that a moment the library project manager handed me a brand new copy of War and Peace. (I’d admitted earlier in the day I hadn’t read it.)

“It’s a gift,” he said.  “Thanks for reminding us all about great books.”

I was very touched. 

Guess I know what I’ll be reading if we find ourselves snowed in which is, after all, ideal weather for Russian fiction.

During our conversation, he shared a secret with me:  He thinks undergraduates who have their hearts set on careers in business should major in the Liberal Arts.  Why?  Because it isn’t useful to teach “business” to an undergraduate population that lacks knowledge of the context business should operate in.  We’re teaching these undergrads the form (profit-making, marketing) and leaving out the content (why a business is in business, the science, invention, contribution).  Without an underpinning of general knowledge (culture, literature, history), how can business leaders align organizations with purpose, inspire a workforce, or contribute to a greater good?

“Besides,” he went on to say, “you can’t teach an 18-year-old Organizational Behavior. When a teenager thinks about ‘behavior,’ it’s probably all the ways they’ve been in trouble in their young lives.  They have no context whatsoever for organizational behavior.” 

I’ve been happily surprised in recent weeks to discover how many people agree that an education in history, culture, science, language—anything other than the specific ways and wiles of commerce—is necessary for business people and, so far, mostly overlooked.  I admit I wasn’t expecting to hear it from within the walls of the School of Business, and maybe I’m telling a tale out of school.  But what a nice thought it is for a moment—an army of literate, well-rounded, maybe even ethical business leaders whose launch point was a bachelor’s degree in anthropology, linguistics, geography, or English, who then went on to graduate school to study finance, marketing, project management and, of course, organizational behavior.

One other heartening discovery this week:  The Carnegie Foundation is operating a three year project to “ensure that undergraduate students who major in business and other professional fields also gain the benefits of a strong liberal arts education” (http://carnegiefoundation.org/programs/index.asp?key=1862, accessed 30 August 2009).  The driver of this project, as it’s described on their site, is the increasing number of business undergrads, many of whom are the first in their families to attend college.  I guess the assumption is, if your parents had a broad education, perhaps you’ve had some, too.  If you parents haven’t, then you’ve probably missed out on that and, tracking directly into a business program, you’ll continue to miss out on it.  Without it, our future business leaders “will not gain the intellectual, moral, and civic learning they need to be responsible individuals and members of their communities.”

So that’s more good news, not just for business but for students of the liberal arts.  If you’re working your way through studies of language and literature, you already know how much richer you are for having done so.  What you may not have been aware of is that some people in key places have noticed the same thing, and can take it a step further than you can.  They see your education as valuable to business, and this can be just the groundwork you need to put your degree to work.

I’ll probably be detained in an airport now for uttering such heresy, given that many college students think they’re preparing themselves for “careers” and colleges encourage them to think this. It’s sad to consider it, really, because so many people, once they’re out of college and launched in these careers, spend a lot of time complaining about their jobs, their bosses, the commute, co-workers, deadlines, the company’s policies, salaries and all the rest. It’s sort of terrible to consider that college skills training is preparing you for a career you can spend the rest of your life complaining about.

Of course there’s more to complain about these days—lack of jobs, the promise of instability, the increasingly unlikely prospect of home ownership. Depending on your outlook, these may seem like the least of our future problems. A college education that’s been aimed at preparing a workforce of “skilled” workers to sustain business-as-we’ve-known-it is launching crops of graduates ready for a professional world that seems to be behind us.

I realize that sounds gloomy and critical, but I assure you I’m neither. Personally, I think there’s a better future ahead, one that’s accountable to things that matter (health, knowledge, ecosystems, community) and not as beholden to things that don’t (pursuit of inestimable profit, multi-national conglomerates, optimizing cheap labor). It’s going to take time, courage and character to transform us, but it is coming.

Readying our entire culture for such an overhaul requires courage, clarity of thought, optimism, commitment, creativity and a willingness to challenge the status quo. It also requires patience, fortitude and sacrifice. These kinds of abilities and qualities aren’t “skills” you pick up in Marketing 301 or Advanced Linear Programming. There’s no “job skills training” for what we need to help us find our way out of this financial morass and onto a better economy.

What’s needed for that are people who are educated, not skills-trained.  We need a workforce prepared to deal with the unknown, rather than people who must correctly predict an outcome. We need vision and imagination, an understanding of the shared human experience. Most of all we need clarity, a willingness to recognize and embrace an idea that may be very different from what we’ve relied on in the past, and the ability to separate substance from drivel (which may be the opposite of training in Marketing, which promotes the idea that drivel is substance).

Students of the Liberal Arts are prepared with an education they’ll be putting it to use in an economy no one yet can envision. Liberal Arts students are less likely to be thrown by the kind of uncertainty that’s ahead because their forays into understanding the driving forces of history, culture and human motivation are preparing them to deal with uncertainty.