He was in many ways like the gifted founders of the American republic itself. A man of prodigious intellect and Jeffersonian wide talents, he saw in the state always something of a looming threat.
It may be a sign of growing wisdom or just advancing age, but I get a little sad to see the passing of icons -even the ones with whom I have often disagreed. Bill Buckley died today at his home in Connecticut. He was 82.
He was in many ways like the gifted founders of the American republic itself. A man of prodigious intellect and Jeffersonian wide talents, he saw in the state always something of a looming threat. He had little patience for the Great Society vision of more contemporary government. One thinks he would have been happiest if Alexander Hamilton had become president and the size of government remained pretty much constant from that point forward. There are days, when I can see some merit in that myself.
We were of different thoughts on many things, but at least on the issue of individual privacy and the need to keep a solid check on the intrusive powers of government, which are too often prone to be exercised at the whim of petty bureaucrats and small-minded officials, we shared similar views. He was a great believer in the free market, but not so much that he did not find current levels of CEO pay to be rather revolting and injurious to the continued health of modern capitalism. That made Bill Buckley a pretty wise fellow in my book, as did his determination to resist fleeing to that false island of intellectual illustriousness: the practice of law. His debating skills were remarkable, not just for the positions he took and his ability to advance them with unassailable logic, but for the flash of his eyes and a personality that gave them infectious energy. You have to be a pretty good act to cause teenagers and their parents to stop and watch your television show on Sunday afternoons. Millions did. It was always mandatory at our home.
And who can forget that now grainy and distant scene when Bill Buckley and Gore Vidal almost came to blows on ABC during coverage of the 1968 Democratic National Convention? I think my father found the spectacle of what he called two geniuses acting like morons to be one of the funniest things he had ever seen on television.
As one gets older, one finds uniqueness in the human spirit among the more memorable discoveries in life. Bill Buckley was a gifted author, sailor and musician. His sartorial abilities were somewhat less advanced, however. He often looked like he was auditioning for some kind of new reality show called “How Many Plaids and Checks Can You Wear?” He also had an ability to write novels, which he did on some 12 occasions. He relaxed by playing the harpsichord. How many people who have lived into the 21st century do you think you will ever hear that about?
William F. Buckley, Jr. was an original. There are too few of them at the best of times, which leaves the world more diminished when they are gone. Blackford Oakes will be going under cover for a while. I wonder if we will see his likes, or those of his alter ego, ever again.
He was not a politician, nor was he a CEO. The conqueror of Mount Everest was something even more rare by the subprime standards of present day: he was a leader.
He gazed upon heights where no man had dared raise his eyes before and scaled their tallest peak. He did it without a golden parachute. There was no fifty-page contract that promised to reward the prospect of failure and ensure a prince’s living for his retirement years. Unlike the corporate titans of today, success for him, and his trusted guide Tenzing Norgay, was a singular effort; there were no legions in far flung offices and plants around the world who did the hard work. And when he ascended the summit of Mount Everest in 1953, public relations departments weren’t required to put a spin on the triumph. There was no chimera to inflate the accomplishment as there so often is in the arenas of business and politics today; nobody cashed in big-time leaving others to discover later that the feat was illusionary, like Enron, or folly, like the current credit fantasy that has propelled so many into the stratosphere and then into the ground. In this quest, you will find no social luminary vying for 15 minutes of fame or boardroom baron whose misguided values would lead to downfall and jail time. Genuine success, like the character that produces it, speaks with a voice that needs neither translation nor amplification.
It is perhaps only the greatest of men and women who can confront danger, straddle risk and rise to the top, yet know that humility and an honest concern for others are among the most accomplishing of attributes by which to live and the defining hallmarks of the authentic individual.
He was not a politician, nor was he a CEO. Sir Edmund Hillary, who died today at the age of 88, was something even more rare by the subprime standards of present day: he was a leader.
It is a legacy that stands in sharp contrast to the so-called hedge fund and LBO heroes of today, who instantly appear then quickly vanish from the scene, and where the celebrity status of self-proclaimed movers and shakers has about the same shelf life as a prize in a cereal box. It is also a lesson that gentlemen, too, can rise to great heights but still keep their feet on the ground.
A remarkable man passed from the scene this week. His name was Rowland Frazee and for many years he was chairman and CEO of Royal Bank of Canada, the country’s largest bank. He was remarkable not just because he was a highly successful business leader, but because he managed to rise to the pinnacle of success while being a gentleman with a strong social conscience.
I first met Mr. Frazee some three decades ago, when he was on a jury which gave me some award. He was interested in social responsibility issues long before they became a fad. One way you can tell a genuine leader is by his capacity to show an interest in others and make them feel important. And I felt very important after my meeting with him. He was like those baseball greats of yesterday who managed to hit more than a few out of the park but always had their feet planted firmly on the ground. He started working in a small bank branch, answered freedom’s call in the second world war, where he was wounded three times in the Italian Campaign and in battles in Europe, and then returned to raise a family and resume his career. He presided over a period of impressive growth and change at Royal Bank that kept it solidly in the lead of its competitors. And, believe it or not in this day of numbingly common ethical debacle and almost daily corporate embarrassment, he managed to do it all without a hint of scandal or making a giant size payout because somebody at the bank dropped the ball.
He was, like many who have come this way and are now sadly gone, part of the greatest generation. They knew what was important. And they knew what many in my generation and a few others forgot or perhaps never learned: a virtue called humility and the concept of “enough.”
Rowland Frazee’s life and career seem such an astonishing contrast to the so-called hedge fund and LBO heroes of today, who instantly appear then quickly vanish from the scene, and where the celebrity status of self-proclaimed movers and shakers has about the same shelf life as a prize in a cereal box. They strut around the stage for a while. Some even manage to acquire billions and ever more youthful wives. But in the end, they don’t seem to leave very much behind that can be measured or appreciated in human terms. Egos die. Legacies endure.
Mr. Frazee retired some years ago to the small New Brunswick town where he was raised, and contributed his time and ideas to the community. He touched many people in far-reaching ways, not the least of which was to remind us all that there is room for a gentleman in the world of big business who can still accomplish a lot without being nasty, garish or boasting about the size of his mansions.
I am not generally one to suggest more awards in a world already overcrowded with prize-winning real estate agents and endlessly honored show business types. But there would be no better way to celebrate Rowland Frazee’s legacy than for Royal Bank’s board of directors to establish an award that recognizes and encourages in others the kind of civilized conduct he exemplified in business and public life. It is a model which both business and society need to see much more of these days —and very soon.
When I was a boy —I suppose no five words date a man as much as those— James Doohan was an occasional guest at my parents’ summer parties. At that time he was an actor mainly on the CBC, which put him immediately into the category of one of the first celebrities I ever met —a fact that was almost as impressive as the very small two-seater car he drove that rode on just three wheels. I think it was French. It was very cool. There was always a script or two on the other seat. I remember Jimmy, as everyone called him then, was unfailingly patient with the endless questions kids have for someone who is on television, and never showed a hint of being taken with himself, unlike some vice presidents of this or that company who seemed to strut around trying to impress everyone. Funny how young people remember things like that and who has an authentic voice and who does not among the adult crowd.
Some years later, Jimmy went off to join the cast of a new TV series called Star Trek and became known throughout this galaxy, if not beyond, as Scotty, the craggy chief engineer of the USS Enterprise who was always “giving it all I can, Captain.” I imagine some Trekkies would give their Spock ears to have actually been in Jimmy’s first home —dare I say it, in the 1950s. It was definitely before the invention of warp speed but it did have a nice kitchen.
Today, Jimmy’s ashes were shot off into space on a rocket. He is the first person I have personally known whose mortal remains are no longer part of this earth. I wonder if it will become a trend. It’s a fitting new frontier for a pace setter who inspired millions about the mysteries of the cosmos and still found time at a much earlier age to indulge the curiosities of a young fan.
Well done, Jimmy. The journey continues.
Author. Thinker. Journalist. In the highest traditions of those professions. A civilized man for who whom baseball was a metaphor for life that taught about the place of rules, ethics and integrity in the governance and leadership of the public’s business.
For those who seek the truth, and occasionally wonder how it is discovered, his would be one of the brighter stars to lead the way.
A life well lived, indeed.
Honoring Gerald R. Ford
The state funeral today for former President Gerald R. Ford was moving on so many levels. It was a superb celebration of a husband, father, naval officer, citizen and president. But nestled in with all the pomp and oratory was America’s remembrance that it is the person who rises from humble beginnings, who works hard for an education, answers duty’s call to defend freedom and serves his family and country with dignity that endures as one of the country’s most noble symbols.
This was a ceremony in which common men and woman saluted a common man amongst them. In that, it was an affirmation that America is fundamentally a society about the lives, abilities and accomplishments of ordinary people, not aristocracies or an anointed class. This is why governance, and the duty to hold accountable those entrusted with power, is so pivotal in America. It is why there has been a sense of revulsion over the excesses and scandals that have come to epitomize the boardrooms and political halls of the nation.
The ceremony honoring President Ford came, like the arrival of the man himself upon the nation’s highest office, at just the right time, when America and its friends needed to have their attention shone upon a quieter kind of leadership. Gerald Ford was among that unique generation of individuals who managed to change the world one day and change the diapers of their children the next. It was a commemoration of the attributes of the greatest generation that did so much to preserve freedom and rebuild a modern economy and for the most part still remained unassuming in the way they lived their lives. They were the heroes next door.
The passing of Gerry Ford and the great gathering of respect and admiration that came to mark his life today serves as a signal that something has been missing in the style and values of the movers and shakers of the post war generation of which I am a part, and a reminder that we could do a lot worse than strive to recapture the virtues our parents taught us.
It is, for me at least, a fitting note upon which to begin the work of a new year.
