An Indispensable Word From Lincoln's Indispensable Man
“It has been a habit of my life to leave my conduct and character to the vindication of time and truth. ”
Leaders face criticism. Henry Seward can help you navigate it.
“Do you want a little constructive criticism?”
I walked out of the class with a deep sense of satisfaction. I did it! I had stepped in for Dr. Crichton, the President of my college. I taught his class as he requested. I got through it. I was feeling pretty good!
A few weeks earlier, Dr. Crichton told me he would be out of town and asked if I would teach his Adult Sunday School class. You have to know my president to appreciate this request. Dr. Crichton was a G-I-A-N-T in character, intellect, and stature. His Friday morning “Men of Memphis” Bible class drew quite a crowd. As to his Sunday School class, let’s just say with respect to teaching, they were accustomed to “fine dining.”
And Dr. Crichton had asked me — maybe 20-years olds — to stand in for him. Why? I still don’t know!
I prepared as if for finals. I walked in and gave it my best. Now the class was over and I was feeling good, until I came face-to-face with the little old lady from Dr. Crichton’s class. She said,
“Well, would you like a little constructive criticism?”
Actually, I wasn’t interested in hearing a word of what she had to say. But, I politely replied “Yes,” and she unloaded. Forty years later, I don’t remember a word she said, but I have never forgotten that incident nor the lesson it provided.
Leaders should expect criticism
Fast forward to 2021. For a leader, facing the coronavirus is tough enough. This is a once-in-a-century predicament. You are a guide through a fog of instability, doubt, and fear. Sure, you’ve got AAA, but on this ride that means Ambiguity, Anxiety, and Anger. To make matters more challenging, you are leading in an atmosphere of political and racial tension in a cancel culture. So yeah, expect criticism. As Truman was fond of saying, “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.”
But this is no “suck-it-up-soldier!” post. Instead, I want to tell you a story about Lincoln’s indispensable man. He is going to help us handle the criticism that will invariably come our way.
Lincoln’s Indispensable Man
William Henry Seward was Lincoln's chief political rival for the presidency in 1860. But as you know, Lincoln leveraged the expertise of his rivals so Seward became his Secretary of State, a post he held for eight years. As biographer Walter Stahr notes, Seward was "Lincoln's indispensable man," serving as wise counsel and trusted friend.
Seward was not without his indulgences. Edward Dicey, a young British reporter, visited Washington in early 1862. Here is his observation about Henry Seward:
Seward was good company: “A good cigar, a good glass of wine, and a good story, even if it is a little risque, are pleasures which he obviously enjoys keenly. Still, a glance at that spare, hard-knit frame, and that clear, bright eye, shows you that no pleasure, however keenly appreciated has been indulged in to excess throughout his long, laborious career.”
Dicey was not the first to document Seward’s pleasure in cigars and wine. So perhaps it is not surprising that critics rumored that he was “drinking on the job.” Stahr writes:
Much of his day was taken by meetings: with Lincoln, other cabinet members, military officers, foreign diplomats, reporters, and other visitors. “There was no time for lunch,“ Frederick recalled, “except four or five minutes snatched from other occupations.“ Anna would send over “some crackers and cheese,“ with cold tea and a flask, which led to rumors that Seward was drinking by day. In fact, one officer claimed the Secretary of State was “drunk from morning till night.”
A critic’s feast!
Were Seward alive today, Twitter would be abuzz. Facebook would light up. FOX and CNN would ramp up coverage, and memes, à la Bernie Sanders, would be appearing everywhere.
I don’t think the criticism would phase Mr. Seward in the least. And here is why. When Seward was charged with excessive drinking (a charge that appears false), the Secretary of State simply said,
“It has been a habit of my life to leave my conduct and character to the vindication of time and truth.”
Indeed, time and truth walk hand in hand. The sooner we learn that maxim, the better. However the Apostle Paul, who also knew a thing or two about criticism, takes Seward’s insight one step further. When criticized by his detractors, Paul said:
“As for me, it matters very little how I might be evaluated by you or by any human authority. I don’t even trust my own judgment on this point. My conscience is clear, but that doesn’t prove I’m right. It is the Lord himself who will examine me and decide.
”
Seward knew who he was and he knew time and truth walk hand in hand. Paul also knew who he was, but even more, Paul knew that even he wasn’t fit to render judgement about own actions. He would do his best to steward his days to honor Christ and let Jesus examine him and decide. In fact, when Paul said about his critics, it matters very little what you think, the “very little” comes from the Greek, elachistos. It is a superlative meaning, “the very least, smallest.”
Paul was not losing any sleep over what his critics had to say. God would settle it in the end. It is God’s word, not that of the critic that counts.
So criticism comes. The wise leader listens. The wise leader knows, time and truth walk hand in hand. It is not “your judgment” or even “my judgement,” but the Lord himself who will examine me and decide. And since the One who will examine me has already ransomed me, I know I will be just fine in the end!
“But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you or by any human court.”
Notes:
“A good cigar . . .” from Seward: Lincoln’s Indispensable Man, by Walter Stahr. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2012. Page 328. See also pages 363, 365.
“It has been a habit of my life . . . “ from Seward: Lincoln’s Indispensable Man, by Walter Stahr. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2012. Page 298.
“If you can’t stand the heat . . .” From David McCullough, Truman, New York: Simon & Schuster. 1992. Page 633. McCullough notes that this was an old Missouri line that Truman had first heard in the 1930s from another Jackson County politician by the name of E.T. (“Buck”) Purcell.