Leadership Lessons from Game Of Thrones: Index

iu-4For your convenience, here’s a handy index to the Leadership Lessons from Game of Thrones posts, in chronological order.

Introduction

Charismatic leadership: Daenarys Targaryen

Transformational leadership: Jon Snow

Transactional leadership: Tyrion Lannister

Behavioural leadership theories: Robert Baratheon

Contingency-based leadership theories: the High Sparrow

Power-based leadership theories: Sansa Stark

Traditional pathways to promotion: Robb Stark and the Baratheon brothers

Alternative pathways to promotion: Ramsay Bolton

The Battle of Winterfell, or How Not To Lead

Toxic leadership: Joffrey Baratheon and Daenarys Targaryen (again)

Gender and ethnic diversity in leadership: the Greyjoy siblings

Conclusions

 

Leadership Lessons From Game Of Thrones Special: The Battle of Winterfell, or How Not To Lead

Last time,  I said the next entry would be about alternative career patimagehs and Ramsay Bolton. Well, forget that, because I watched “The Battle of Winterfell” at the weekend, and I think we need to take a moment to talk about it.

People who know more about tactics than I do have written about the problems with that aspect of it, so I’m not going to do a blow-by-blow of what’s wrong with it militarily. However, I have spent a while talking about leadership on Westeros, and so I feel compelled to point out that this whole episode is a pretty good example of how not to do leadership.

1) Failure to designate authority. Who, exactly, was in charge of that battle? You don’t always need a clear, hierarchical chain of command, and in this case they’d evidently decided on doing the battle in small autonomous units rather than according to an overall plan, but you do need some allocation of responsibilities. The only people who seemed to have someone in charge and directing things were the Unsullied, and of course no one else noticed what Grey Worm was doing, because it seems the Westerosi are racist (while I’ll be coming back to this in a future post, this is a very good example of the problems poor diversity management can cause for any organisation). Jon and Daenarys may be up on the dragons and Tyrion and Sansa in the crypts (on which, more later), but Edd, Jaime, Brienne and Torvald are all perfectly capable of directing a battle better than they do here.

2) No system for operating at multiple levels. It’s helpful to leadership if they’re able to understand the big picture, and the smaller one, so as to get everyone on the ground level working towards a larger goal. While the dragonriding team can’t communicate with the ground, this is where Bran’s ability to warg into ravens could have provided a useful asset. Mind you, the lack of people in authority might make it hard to figure out who to pass the information on to.

3) Lack of flexibility. Almost any operation needs fine-tuning as it goes along, whether it’s an audit, an acquisition, or a battle for your lives against the zombie hordes. Nobody at Winterfell appears to be showing any interest in deviating from the previously-worked-out plan, staring dumbly as the wights figure out how to get over the firewall.

4) Failure to utilize available skills. Tyrion, in the crypt, has evidently figured out Problem #2, and mutters about how he and Varys ought to be out there helping to guide the battle. Sansa shoots him down on that one, but he’s actually perfectly right. None of those three are fighters, but Tyrion at least is good at thinking of tactics on the fly, and they’re all intelligent people, and yet they’re all locked up in the crypt where they can’t actually be of any use to anyone. Not that it would matter much, because there’s also the problem of…

5) Poor communications. If you’ve got the person, or people, up in the tower, surveying the field and coming up with changes as needed, you need some system to communicate those to the people on the front lines. This is why there were drum and bugle signals in earlier times. Now, it’s a fair point that you’re assembling a force that’s quite diverse in terms of its tactics and background, but it’s not an insurmountable problem, since presumably everyone, in this case, is on board with the basic mission and wants to complete it without dying.

So, the Battle of Winterfell is not just a failure of tactics, or dragon-wrangling, but of leadership. Next time: I really will get around to Ramsay Bolton, I promise.

Transactional leadership: Tyrion Lannister

'Game of Thrones' director on why Tyrion is worried about ...We conclude our introductory tour around the leadership trifecta of “Game of Thrones” with a look at Tyrion Lannister, the transactional leader (for those just joining us: charismatic and transformational leadership are covered in earlier articles).

Much as Tyrion himself doesn’t tend to get much love from his siblings and father, transactional leadership generally doesn’t tend to get much good press in the popular management textbook world. It’s another of Max Weber’s coinages and, as contrasted to the charismatic leader who leads through charisma and force of will, the transactional leader is one who gets things done through, well, transactions with his or her followers: if I do this, then you will do that. Subordinates are kept in line with a system of rewards and punishments, and transactional leaders can’t necessarily count on their love, or their support during the tough times. Transactional leaders can often, however, count on trust; these are generally leaders who make promises and, if you hold up your end of the bargain, they’ll hold up theirs. Transactional leaders are organised, and performance-focused, which means that they’re often the ones who get the results that the sexier leaders don’t, because they’ve worked their subordinates to burnout or have spent too much time wrangling their team to address ongoing concerns of day-to-day management. Transactional leaders tend to be self-motivated, and prefer subordinates who are likewise inclined to go away, do their part, and come back with the results.

Tyrion’s not unappealing (he’s got the best lines in the series, for a start), but as leaders go he’s not particularly charismatic. Although he’s been on the battlefield, and successfully, several times, people tend to forget about that. What he’s famous for is, in his own words, that “I drink, and I know things.” But that last phrase gives us his strength as a leader: he’s competent. He has no illusions about his charisma, but he knows what will motivate people to do what he wants. When Joffrey, the charismatic leader (yes, he is; we’ll be talking about him later) is paralysed with fear, he’s the one who takes over and competently runs the Battle of Black Water into a Lannister victory. Tyrion does all right when he doesn’t have followers, or support; he’s as much at home pursuing a solo quest to find Daenarys as he is at the head of an organisation.

If Tyrion winds up on the Iron Throne– and that’s a distinct possibility– he won’t have got there through charisma, and looks, and social capital. He’ll have got there through careful deal-making and knowing things. Because if that’s his goal, he’ll look at what he needs to do to achieve it… and do it.

Next up: before we go on to consider paths to leadership in Westeros, I’ll take you through a brief overview of two schools of thought about leadership: behavioural and contingent.