by Mitt Romney
One answer has to do with human nature. We tend to repress the possibility of catastrophic events. One day some years ago, I was in the office of my boss, Bill Bain. We were watching progress at a construction site across the street. Cranes were unloading and staging forty-foot steel-reinforced concrete piles that were about to be driven into the ground to form the foundation for a skyscraper. These piles were passing only a few feet above the heads of construction workers on the ground. It was astonishing to me that none of them looked up, ducked, or cowered—they simply went about their work. Bill’s observation has remained with me. If they allowed themselves to feel the fear that one of those piles might come crushing down on them, they’d go nuts, he said. Their brains just simply have to shut that out.
When an authority on the subject tells us that gasoline is going to cost four dollars a gallon, or that the value of the stock market will be cut in half, or that excessive spending and borrowing will severely jeopardize our children’s future, we’re likely to minimize or even dismiss the warning, in part because it’s so frightful. Or we seize on the opinion of someone who tells us what we would prefer to hear instead.
There is another human tendency that often comes into play. We find it difficult to accept the possibility of dramatic change, whether good or bad. If we have been healthy all our lives, it’s difficult to conceive that we may become unhealthy. If energy has been cheap as long as we can remember, we can’t imagine it becoming expensive. If the economy is booming, it’s difficult to internalize the fact that it will someday be in recession. And when we are in a recession, we feel like it will go on forever. It’s a phenomenon that has led some investors to do quite well for themselves—investors who steel themselves against their emotions to buy in bad times and sell in good. At a time in the late 1980s when the state of Texas was an economic basket case, the partners in my private equity firm decided to buy Texas businesses—from retailers to oil-production equipment companies. We knew that Texas had to come back someday, but I admit that investing in Texas businesses at the time was frightening. The eventual reward, however, more than made up for the fright.
When it comes to our nation and its future, these human inclinations can blind us to the consequences of ignoring challenges and threats. We simply don’t want to see it if, in fact, we are headed downhill. Warning voices among the Ottomans, Spanish, and British were raised, but leaders and citizens did their best not to hear, tuning their ears instead to the comforting voices that claimed continuity and comfort.
Reassuring voices are easy to find; there are always people who benefit from maintaining the status quo. If warnings are heeded and change occurs, they may lose their position, their power, and their wealth. These people and institutions work very hard to silence dire warnings or to diminish them. And because those at the top have the most to lose, they are typically the most vocal in dismissing—or silencing—the warning voices. The religious hierarchy in Spain and Portugal surely recognized the inevitable implications of shutting out science and learning that came from the rest of the world, but their own power and privilege was at stake. So, too, for the mullahs of the Ottoman Empire. In Britain, the owners of uncompetitive businesses had enormous self-interest in obtaining subsidies and protection from foreign imports, as did the employees and unions that relied on those businesses.
The self-interest in preserving the status quo on the part of those in power accounts for several otherwise inexplicable realities in the modern world. Kim Jong-il and the Castro brothers, for example, surely recognize the economic and human bankruptcy of their socialist regimes. Sudan’s Omar al-Bashir, Zimbabwe’s Robert Mugabe, and Burma’s General Than Shwe likewise must be aware of the dire implications for their citizenry of their policies. But when the people in power wish above all else to preserve their power—and when they have all the guns—the prospects for change are very limited.
There may be a dangerous strain of self-interest among the citizenry in democracies as well, one that draws a nation away from the risks and sacrifices that are involved in changing course. Ronald Reagan once referenced a statement that he and others attributed to a late-eighteenth-century Scottish-born English lawyer and writer named Alexander Fraser Tytler. A democracy cannot exist as a permanent form of government, Tytler is said to have written. It can only exist until the voters discover that they can vote themselves largesse from the public treasury. From that moment on, the majority only votes for candidates promising the most benefits from the public treasury, with the result that a democracy always collapses over loose fiscal policy, always followed by dictatorship.
Although I haven’t found an original source for the above quote, I have come across a verifiable Tytler observation that expresses a similar thought: It is not, perhaps, unreasonable to conclude that a pure and perfect democracy is a thing not attainable by man, constituted as he is of contending elements of vice and virtue, and ever mainly influenced by the predominant principle of self-interest.
Whether from Tytler or from Reagan, the observation remains: If citizens in a democracy foster short-term self-interest rather than promoting the long-term interests of the nation—placing themselves above their descendants—there is little likelihood that they will vote for visionary, transformative leaders who advocate difficult change and sacrifice. When popular opinion places self above nation and the present above the future, nations slide from power to weakness. The self-interest of the common citizen can be just as hazardous to national strength as that of the rich and powerful.
National declines also may be attributable in part to the failures of independent opinion leaders—educators, writers, scientists, and the media—to say what needed to be heard. In some cases, such independent voices were virtually nonexistent; the church and government strictly controlled what people heard in the Chinese, Spanish, Portuguese, and Ottoman empires. Independent inquiry, investigation, or warnings often resulted in people being sent to the dungeon or worse; beheadings and burning at the stake tend to silence the outspoken. The absence of free expression and a free press made the recognition of challenges and action in response to them far less likely.
But where independent voices have been plentiful, they, too, have sometimes failed to arouse public awareness and commitment to a course of change. I admit to having been more than a little surprised that many of the serious challenges facing America today were not forcefully examined by the media during the 2008 primary and general election campaigns. It’s well understood by those who have studied the federal budget, for example, that our entitlement programs will eventually swamp us. But neither party’s candidates were pushed to explain what they would do about it. In one of our Republican primary debates, for example, we were asked, Specifically, what would you do to fix Social Security? Most responded by restating the problem—Social Security is bankrupt—rather than by addressing a solution; politicians have learned from experience that it is unwise to touch the third rail of American politics. But why is that? Why is it that the media doesn’t hold accountable those who duck this critical issue? Why isn’t it instead that failure to address entitlement and Social Security reform is the third rail?
Neville Chamberlain’s now infamous celebration of his agreement with Hitler was widely heralded at the time by the British and world media—few independent voices warned of its risk and peril. Winston Churchill had spoken repeatedly about the dangers posed by Hitler and Germany, but the British parliament and the British people were in no mood to listen. The many agreements the United States has reached with North Korea over the years—virtually all of which were subsequently and quite predictably violated by that country—have largely been welcomed by the press with only scant skepticism. The alarms sounded by the late senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan, actor Bill Cosby, NPR correspondent Juan Williams, and others about the disintegration of the family and the dire consequences of homes without fathers have been dutifully reported, but they have been given very little real attention. And other, similarly v
ital warnings are often simply ignored by the media. Why?
In some cases, of course, bias about the topic colors the coverage. But equally responsible, I believe, is group think. It’s hard to think independently once you have heard the opinion of the institutional elite. Some members of the media decided early on that Ronald Reagan was not particularly intelligent. That bias colored a good deal of the reporting during his presidency. When the accounts of those who had worked most closely with him were written, and particularly when his diaries were published, the public finally got a very different picture of the man: He was brilliant.
The media elite similarly took the early view that Iraq was a hopeless quagmire. There was often thereafter a perceptible snickering in the coverage, especially when the surge initiative was unveiled. Then, when the surge actually worked, the media coverage of Iraq noticeably fell off.
Perhaps there are also cases of intellectual laziness. If academics, writers, and opinion leaders have never visited China or worked in the private sector, for example, how can they knowledgably assess the implications of China’s developing industrial strategy? Examination and analysis that go beyond Google, Wikipedia, or a few selective interviews can be difficult and time-consuming, and not everyone is willing to go to the expense and to make the effort that in-depth reporting requires, particularly as media budgets are being slashed. Media outlets have been closing foreign bureaus: Many major newspapers and outlets no longer have Kabul or Baghdad bureaus.
The failure to see growing threats, the interests of the powerful in preserving the status quo, the short-term self-interest of common citizens, and the absence or forced silence of independent voices have combined to prevent world powers from correcting course. Interestingly, that has not always been the case.
Throughout history, there have been fortuitous reversals of national decline. Rome approached collapse in Nero’s time, but later thrived under the Five Good Emperors. The Ottomans overcame an eleven-year civil war, capturing Constantinople from the Christian Byzantines and then expanding their empire to the east. Great Britain, lulled into passivity by Chamberlain’s appeasement, rallied under Churchill’s stirring leadership. You ask, ‘What is our aim?’ he said in his first speech as prime minister. I can answer with one word. Victory—victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory however long and hard the road may be. The British people responded with such fortitude and strength that their resolve continues to inspire us today.
In the 1990s, America was blind to the threat of violent jihad. Few of us had even heard of al Qaeda or Osama bin Laden, and our leaders failed to take aggressive action against them. Former president Bill Clinton rejected an opportunity to assassinate bin Laden, cut human intelligence resources by 25 percent, and countenanced a CIA with only a handful of agents who could speak Arabic. Opinion leaders and the media largely ignored the threat as well. But the attacks of September 11, 2001 changed all that. We removed the Taliban from power in Afghanistan and set out to find and expunge bin Laden and his cohorts. America changed course.
Why do some nations turn around while others do not? One or more of four conditions or catalysts have been present when corrective action was successfully undertaken. The first is the occurrence of a catastrophic event that is alarming enough to spur action but not so large that it dooms the nation. The launch of Sputnik set America on a course to match and exceed Soviet superiority in space. Pearl Harbor struck a severe blow, but in the words attributed in film to the commanding Japanese admiral, We have awakened a sleeping giant and filled him with a terrible resolve. America’s pacifists and isolationists were overwhelmed by stark reality.
The second catalyst is the presence of a great leader—a person of uncommon vision, political courage, statesmanship, and persuasiveness. In nations with millions of citizens, it is remarkable that one person can have such a dramatic impact. During my lifetime alone, numerous singular figures have changed the course of their nation’s history. Consider Mahatma Gandhi, Winston Churchill, Golda Meir, Nelson Mandela, Lech Walesa, Mikhail Gorbachev, Boris Yeltsin, Konrad Adenauer, Václav Havel, Harry Truman, Dwight Eisenhower, and Ronald Reagan.
A third condition is national consensus. In most instances, the consensus is spurred by either crisis or national leaders, but there are occasions when citizen leaders, media voices, educators, or opinion leaders have moved a nation, sometimes in spite of its political leaders. Lech Walesa galvanized a movement that brought down the Iron Curtain, first in Poland, then across Eastern Europe. Scientists, concerned citizens and the world media have succeeded in convincing the public that global warming is a real and present danger.
The final conducive condition for turnaround is when a nation enjoys deep, broad-based national strength—a productive and inventive economy, an educated and entrepreneurial population, and an extensive bench of able leaders. America was able to successfully rebound from the attack on Pearl Harbor in part because of our ample national assets. Nations whose leadership is derived instead from a single asset or competence are less able to recover. When Spain and Portugal lost access to plundered riches, they were unable to fall back on other compensating capabilities. The stress that strengthens the strong is calamitous for the weak.
The lessons from past powers can inform our prospects for preserving America’s place in the world. They give cause for concern as well as grounds for optimism. No great power in history has endured indefinitely; they have failed to see and failed to act, lulled into complacency by selfish stewards and by citizens too willing to turn a blind eye. Like them, we failed to see the threat from violent jihadists, we failed to envision the perils of our mortgage practices, and even today, we fail to see the danger from our excesses. The powerful, often wedded to the status quo, have front-row seats in Washington; virtually all are represented by well-placed lobbyists. Our citizens often prefer the politicians who promise them the most and who paper over the needs of future generations. The failing of some in the media to present unbiased and rigorous analysis is the subject of books and blogs. In fact, each of the conditions that existed in the failed great states of the past is present in America today. This alone is cause for concern. The apprehension is compounded by the number and severity of the threats we face.
The good news is that America also possesses the qualities that have allowed great nations in the past to reverse course and to overcome challenges. We have recently experienced near-catastrophic events that have stirred us to act—the attack of September 11, the meltdown of our financial sector, the near collapse of our economy. We are blessed with a number of strong leaders and statesmen among our elected and private-sector leaders. Our media voices have become as diverse as they are unfettered. And the foundations of America’s strength are the most robust of any nation in history. Our economy is based on a wide spectrum of industries. Our agricultural and natural resources are abundant. The American people are educated, inventive, creative, risk-taking, entrepreneurial, patriotic, family-oriented, willing to sacrifice, and committed to freedom. Our history demonstrates that when we have faced challenges, Americans have always risen to the occasion. Blessed with these extraordinary strengths, America can overcome today’s extraordinary challenges. But doing so will require uncommon truthfulness, candor, decisiveness, and sacrifice from citizens and leaders alike.
No Apology: The Case For American Greatness
3
The Pursuit of Power
The best ally world peace has ever known is a strong America.
Historian Donald Kagan argues in his book On the Origins of War: And the Preservation of Peace that the most favorable political circumstance is the possession by those states who wish to preserve the peace of the preponderant power and of the will to accept the burdens and responsibilities required to achieve that purpose. In simpler terms, it is a very good thing when those nations which desire good are strong.
Hypothetically, a situation in which no nation is more powerful than the others might seem pre
ferable. After all, power corrupts, and a good nation that holds disproportionate power may become less good, acting out of self-interest or a desire to appropriate the wealth of others. But in the real world, there will always be those with more power and those with less, and it’s far better if those nations that hold power are good.
The United States is good. And so today are a great many other nations. Even as vociferous U.S. critics like Putin, Chávez, and Ahmadinejad readily rehearse our faults in front of any audience that will listen, there can be no rational denial of the reality that America is a decidedly good nation. Therefore, it is good for America to be strong.
We should not underestimate the salutary benefits of robust national power. A powerful nation can stop or restrain a tyrant from executing his villainy. We can prevent them from threatening our homeland, as we did when we blocked Soviet missiles from Cuba and destroyed terrorist launching sites in Afghanistan, and when we convinced Muammar Qaddafi to abandon his calamitous pursuit of weapons of mass destruction. Power can promote freedom and human rights, and it can deter ethnic cleansing, genocide, and the abuse of women. Power provides the means to alleviate the devastation of natural disasters like the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami. During my lifetime, I have seen again and again that American power has been good not only for America, but also for the world.
The Middle Kingdom Flexes Its Muscle
Each of the four competitors pursuing distinct strategies for twenty-first-century world leadership—represented by China, Russia, the jihadists, and the United States—recognizes that power is critical to its success. Today, the extent of their respective military power varies significantly. In this regard, perhaps no nation is gaining ground more rapidly than China. Throughout much of its history, the Chinese military was shaped by threats from the nomadic societies of Mongolia, Manchuria, and central Asia, as well as by invasions from Japan. At the dawn of the twentieth century, China had just endured a humiliating defeat at the hands of the Japanese, the result of which was the loss of Taiwan as well as of China’s suzerain role in Korea. Only a few years later, the British successfully invaded Tibet, securing advantageous trade and political positions for themselves and weakening China’s sovereign claim over the Tibetans.
