Once upon a television time, there was a show titled Have Gun–Will Travel.  The hero’s business card instructed the reader, as a means of contact, to “Wire Paladin – San Francisco” (this was communication in the Old West, of course).  The idea was that this mysterious gunfighter, dramatically dressed in black, with a bold silver chess knight on his black holster, was a classic, chivalric paladin—an individual well-equipped to defend Right from Wrong, and completely dedicated to the deserving Good People, even to the point of Risking his Life.  A shrewd, wealthy, smoothly sophisticated, powerful preserver of Decency and Fairness—a Hero for the Ages. 

Where now, in humanity’s hour of need, are these paladins?

The Curse of the Normal Curve

Drat!  Here’s the thing.  Any given system generates output within a characteristic range—from low, to average, to high.  Most of the output, naturally, is in the middle—average.  Some trees are short, like bonsais; most that we see are medium-sized, like maples; and some are tall, like giant redwoods.  Some fish are small, like anchovies; many are medium-sized, like groupers or bass; and a scant few are big, like great white sharks.  That’s the normal curve.

Tragically, it's the same with . . . human talent. 

Definitions vary, naturally, from school to school, from art’s Julliard School to business’s Association for Talent Development.  However, talent could be defined as: a felicitous combination of creativity, focus, drive, capability, confidence, flexibility, and persistence resulting in substantial, and sometimes phenomenal, accomplishment.  Yet, across societies, and all down the ages, from Pericles, to Caesar, to Napoleon, probably the overriding aspect of talent is . . . intelligence. 
Intelligence could be defined as: a system of mental processes, such as attention, memory, abstraction, analysis, and imagination, which enables accurate assessment of people and situations, planning and execution, and facilitates adjustments in operating according to changes in conditions.  Another way to put all that is to say that intelligence enables the rational pursuit of meaningful objectives (e.g., see Patrick Winston’s Artificial Intelligence, and its breathtakingly concise, thorough, meticulous, practical delineation of this elusive concept). 

Intelligence, thereby . . . is a key trait in the competition for resources.  Thus, as one might say, intelligence is the hidden Darwinian Ace in the Game of Life.  And therein lies a somber tale of potential for . . . exploitation.

Some souls, however deserving, receive, as it might be put—a reverse-blessing.  Granted a limited amount of talent, they struggle to survive.  They succeed as best they can, with IQs in the 75 to 90 range.  They may try hard, with due diligence and sincerity, but they just don’t get very far.  Over and over, they get the short end of the socioeconomic stick. 

The vast majority of humanity is granted an adequate degree of talent, and, relative to the challenges they face, they cope remarkably well.  The average person has an IQ within a range of 90 to 110 (depending on the reference group, and the method of measurement).   

But then some people are allocated a surfeit, and sometimes a decisive surfeit, of talent.  The gifted category starts at an IQ of 130, and where it ends no one knows—someplace north of 200.

This is not a trivial matter.

The Crucial Link: Talent ->Wealth -> Power

Markedly restricted intellectual talent is sufficient to get a job mowing lawns, or cleaning streets or hotel rooms.  The tasks need to be simple, concrete, and repetitive, even if not terribly glamorous or lucrative.  With industry and a good attitude, those people can get by—paying their rent, paying their taxes, and, every once in a while, going out for some ice cream, buying a balloon, and going for a walk in the local park in the sunshine.  (One does what one can do.) 

Average intellectual talent carries the brunt of society on its back.  These are the cooks and waitresses, the drivers of trucks, vans, and taxis, the painters, the bank tellers and hotel receptionists, the assistant managers, the people who build, rent, sell, and repair cars, the bookkeepers and paralegals—the everyday citizens who, though they rarely show up in the tabloids, the magazines, or the movies, put their shoulders to the wheels of society, and move it forward, day after day.  These are the stalwarts who deliver the necessary goods.

By contrast . . . it’s at the upper end of the talent spectrum that the jeweled doors of King Solomon’s Mines begin to swing open, the point where brain power starts to seize the levers of finance, and its public servant, politics.  An IQ of 110 is sufficient to attend college, a diploma from which, itself, opens many doors.  An IQ of 120 is probably the minimum necessary to enter, and survive, medical or law school.  The Nobel-Prize winning physicist Richard Feynman reportedly had a tested IQ of 125.  Frederich Nietzsche, of Zarathustra and The Will to Power fame, had an estimated IQ of 190.

Hot Knives through Butter

It's just one of the verities of existence that truly bright folks can cut through challenges and problems like the famous hot knives through butter (e.g., see No Ordinary Genius: The Illustrated Richard Feynman, edited by Christopher Sykes).  They observe the drama, but their minds immediately cut to the chase.  They see the rows of numbers, but they zero in on the bottom line.  They hear the slick arguments, then immediately pounce on the fallacies.  They see the guard at the front door, but deftly notice that the back door is unguarded.  And so on.

Now, from an individual point of view, which is to say, probably, the average person’s point of view, this biological reality can seem grossly unfair.  And they’d be right, of course.  However, from a species point of view, it works.  (And aren’t we, after all, competing with the sharks and the leopards for food?)

Biosocial Rationale for Two Echelons of Talent

Individuals aren’t terribly powerful all on their own.  However, as a group they can be immensely powerful.  But only if they function in a unified manner.  Everyone must pull the wagon in the same direction, or it won’t go very far.

And it’s not very hard for any kind of project, like pulling a big wagon out of the mud (or trying to elect a leader, or designing a nation), to dissolve into chaos.  Every collection of individuals has a handful who want to be boss.  Each wannabe boss recruits coteries of like-minded followers which try to follow a blizzard of contrary instructions.  “We’re goin’ left, baby.  Everybody pull to the left!”   “No way”, says a competing rabble-rouser.  “We’re goin’ right, buddy.  Everybody pull to the right!”

Obviously, what’s needed is a single leader able to enlist everyone’s cooperation aimed at a single useful objective.  That leader must be tough and determined, but also a relatable charmer, with a good sense of humor. 

For example, in the movie Patton, the take-no-prisoners style general has just assumed command of a new headquarters.  In his bristling, outraged first inspection, he stumbles across a soldier who is asleep.  The soldier wakes up, terrified, and stands at attention.  Patton, completely unexpectedly, in a burst of amused compassion, says, “Get back down there, son.  You’re the only [SOB] in this headquarters who knows what he’s trying to do”. 

But in addition, the leader must be intellectually capable—clearly able to find the right road out of the swamp and onward to paradise.  In another scene from Patton, a general is poring over a map on the back of a tank, trying to figure out how to cross a river.  Patton comes by, and yells at the general, “This sewer’s no more than three feet deep!  Now, you get that outfit cranked up, or you’re gonna be out of a job!”

In other words, an effective leader must be obviously superior in talent, far enough ahead of competing candidates that there is almost no question as to who should be in charge.  That means that in a talent distribution, the effective leader is positioned well to the right of the median.  That biosocial arrangement—dominance of the fittest, as one might put it—helps avoid the violent chaos which ensues when a multiplicity of quasi-qualified competitors fight madly for control (the Warring States period in China, the Reign of Terror in France, and the Weimar Republic in Germany being depressingly salutary examples).

What all that results in is, in effect, the evolution of two functional echelons of talent—upper and lower echelons.  The top echelon is very small, to minimize confusing competition for dominance and consequent loyalty, and to narrow the breadth of strategies and instructions—one leader, one game plan.  The bottom echelon constitutes the bulk of the population, to maximize the impact a massive number of personnel, under decisive leadership, can exert on a problem (consider the Grande Armée’s resounding victory, under Napoleon, at the Battle of Jena; or the impact of massed troops charging across the beach in France, on D-Day, in World War II.)

So, in a typical factory, the number of executives (C-suite personnel) is small, while the number of workers, including those at the base, who do the nastiest jobs, is quite substantial.  On a ship, normally, there’s one captain, one executive officer, then a big crew.  In an army, the number of top-level officers is small, while the number of soldiers is huge.  An orchestra, no matter how large, has one conductor.  Systems just work better that way—one or two brilliant, persuasive leaders, then legions of loyal followers.  Conflicted leadership rapidly cripples an organization (e.g., see Peter Gay’s Weimar Culture: The Outsider as Insider, detailing the collapse of common sense; and Somerset De Chair’s Napoleon on Napoleon: An Autobiography of the Emperor, dramatizing the necessity of seizing power prior to the onslaught of chaos).

The Slippery Slope of Talent

So far, so good, perhaps.  However, unfortunately, a virtual caste eventually evolves at the upper echelon, not just a talent differential.

For example, aviation fighter pilots are the best of the best.  To qualify and function, they must be extraordinarily confident, alert, quick-thinking, quick-moving, technically knowledgeable and proficient, and possessed of genial bonhomie as well as killer instincts.  Not a few of them have observed that they have more in common with fighter pilots from competing nations than they have with the average citizen of their own country.   Allied World War I pilots couldn’t help but admire von Richthofen, the “Red Baron”, ace of aces, the chivalrous German flyer who refused to shoot Allied pilots once he had disabled their airplanes.  The Commonwealth troops who finally shot him down gave his body full military honors.

The first James Bond movie, Dr. No, begins with Bond gambling in his lush private club.  These private London clubs have a storied history, but are not without controversy.  The advantage is that, in a private club, distinguished people, bright and cosmopolitan, which is to say, talented, educated, and competent, can get to know each other in a relaxed, friendly atmosphere.  This kind of familiarity facilitates trust, focus, and coordination in governance.  Thereby does camaraderie enhance management effectiveness. 

However, such bastions of wealth and power, like country clubs and private schools, have a reputation for tending to breed a certain insularity, a sense of being different, but also better, and therefore more entitled than the average person (e.g., see Lawrence James’s Aristocrats: Power, Grace, and Decadence, lamenting the decay of fiduciary responsibility at the top).   Correspondingly, the common folk sometimes refer to the members of this upper crust of society as their betters.  In such settings actual titles, such as lord, or sir, are frequent. 

In general, as identification with an in-group goes up, identification with out-groups goes down.  Such a phenomenon can be observed in the fascinating memoir The Vanity Fair Diaries, by Tina Brown.  Editor Brown was the brilliant Oxford graduate, the colorful journalistic impresario who rescued two venerable magazines from the doldrums—Tatler in Britain, then Vanity Fair in New York.  Youthful, attractive Brown rapidly became famous and wealthy, a doyen of upper-echelon society.

But a stroll through Diaries reveals barely a passing glance at Joe and Jane Average.  One gets the impression that the entire city of New York consists solely of editors, writers, and captains of industry, and life consists almost exclusively of taking editorial meetings, and lunching with glitterati, and attending chic parties at which the well-heeled, gourmet host and hostess pay for everything. 

Homelessness, crime, poverty, hunger, and garbage on the stairwell are, well . . . largely invisible.  They don’t even appear much in the stories, which concentrate on a completely different level of the social system, one far more glamourous, entrancing, and salable.

Residents at the upper end of the talent dimension typically find it unnatural to commiserate much with denizens far down the talent scale.  People too different in memory capacity, logic, insight, sophistication, drive, enterprise, quickness, and subsequent . . . wealth, just seem, well . . . vaguely foreign . . . not one of us.

As the governing class—that cache of high talent, motivation, and capability—evolves away from what amounts to the lower caste, that governed class suffers more and more—income inequality, tax injustices, crushing debt, legal and PR victimizations, unsafe housing, dangerous neighborhoods, risky jobs, poor healthcare, poor childcare, benighted media, and also-ran educational systems, which handicap that universal . . . Dream of a Better Life.

The current politico-economic scene could be characterized as having an international Supernation at the very top—the wealthiest (and brightest, best-educated, best-organized, most driven, not to mention, as a group, best-looking and best-dressed) people who are in a position to arrange reality on their own behalf.  They know each other, and party together, so to speak.  In addition, they strategically disinform the public through ownership of most media.  An alarming situation, of course.  (Who put such people in power?) 

Yet, this socioeconomic disaster appears to be of only mild and passing curiosity to vast swaths of the public, absorbed as they are in their various computer screens—distracted, hypnotically entertained . . . and systematically misguided . . . by that selfsame upper echelon.    (Are social media the Nuremberg Rallies of today?)

A bizarre phenomenon, to all appearances.  Yet, that’s not so.  Nothing could be more natural.

Fundamental reality, as the philosopher Heraclitus and the quantum physicist Niels Bohr pointed out, is like a river, flowing hither and yon, attracted to this, then attracted to that, maybe going this way, maybe going that way.  Eventually, those streams coalesce as centers of energy (e.g., see Peter Stevens’s Patterns in Nature).  Energy nodes (like the sun) then exert an outsized influence on their environments.  It’s similar in the biological world.  There’s a pecking order, and the individual at the top controls the troop.  The most capable and determined gain the most power, and rise to the top.  It’s similar in the anthropological world.  In a tribe, the chief, and the immediately subordinate team of Wise Man, War Leader, and Priestess, are in control, and the tribe largely accedes to that hierarchy.

Fortunately, however, in a tribe, the members of the tribe are in a position to exert counter-control over the leaders, because every member of the tribe can see if necessary goods are being distributed fairly, and if everyone is being provided with shelter, and enough to eat.  Unfortunately, in a larger, modern, complex society it’s much harder to observe hoarding of knowledge, influence, safety, beauty, and wealth by the residents of the top of the totem pole.

Thereupon, in the modern world . . . savvy, gutsy assistance in righting this wrong, which is to say, smart, dedicated help . . . is needed.  (Isn’t it?)

Enter the Paladin

Paladins are widely admired—characters real and mythical, of extraordinary talent who dedicate themselves not just to the average person, but especially to struggling, marginal folk.  Who are these paladins?

King Arthur and Sir Galahad.  Robin Hood.  William Tell.  The Lone Ranger.  Wonder Woman.  Superman.  Batman.  Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson.  Obi-Wan Kenobi and the Force.  Buddha and enlightenment.  Joan of Arc.  Florence Nightengale and her lamp.  Raoul Wallenberg.  Elliot Ness and his Untouchables.  George Kennan.  The Kennedys.  Martin Luther King.  Unsinkable Molly Brown.  Mother Teresa.  Greta Thunberg.

Not to mention . . . Jesus.  

Paladins are a breed apart.  Tough, smart, compassionate, and dedicated.  Talented enough to level the socioeconomic playing field . . . to challenge exploitations of the upper caste. 

However, here’s the rub.  No school offers a specific degree in paladinism.  Foundations don’t offer paladin grants.  No think tank or university announces: “Now hiring paladins”.  There’s currently no designated social role for paladins.  There is, after all, no paladin profession.  There isn’t even, widely extant, a paladin personality.

But there could be.

As was suggested many, many years ago, “Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness”.  Embracing a paladin mindset could change the world.  Eventually.

Individuals could choose to adopt and develop paladin traits.  Individuals could decide to become paladin personalities.  Individuals who decide to embrace a paladin mindset and lifestyle could band together.  It’s more fun to work together, and everyone, after all, has a lifetime to realize good intentions.

It’s never too late to begin being the change you want to see in the world.

Paladins Rising

Here is a list of qualities any given individual might want to master on the way to becoming one of those who skillfully stands up for Right, for all people, that is—Paladins.  Qualities are accompanied by various suggested means of development. 

As with most such lists, users are free, of course, to pick those traits most appealing in putting together a Personal Paladin Profile.  Whatever seems unimportant can be dropped, and if it looks like something is missing, it can be added.  The only caveat is to adopt the bulk of the list, otherwise the commonality among the Paladin Fellowship dissipates.

Mental Toughness/Warrior Mind.  It’s an eerie reality of biology, and humanity, that the bottom line of existence is survival.  No survival—that is, disappearance—no passing on of the genes.  This is anathema in the twisted, exclusive clique that is DNA, that exotic and mysterious, codified, upper-order realm where genes rule supreme. 

THEREFORE . . . animals will fight tooth and nail to survive.  And humans, especially those of a sociopathic inclination, drawing on deep pockets, will fight suit, bribe, and smear campaign to crush any upstart do-gooder who intends to reduce massive, questionable privileges.  Economics is, with distressing frequency, a zero-sum game—Beta’s gain is Alpha’s loss.  (Many people are quite attached, not to say addicted, to their polo ponies, yachts, multiple large homes, attorneys on retainer, and extensive offshore tax shelters.) 

SO . . . if you want to be a Paladin . . . you gotta be tough.  “Tough” doesn’t mean “mean”, it just means strong—well able to withstand even merciless attacks without either buckling to a ruthless opponent, or becoming like a ruthless opponent.  It means taking the high ground . . . and staying there.  (Just so, Jesus, at the eleventh hour of an outrageous, and violent, miscarriage of justice, recommended that his opponents be forgiven.)

Sports in general, and exercise in particular, are excellent ways of developing mental toughness.  The key technique is gaining ascendency over psychological pain by facing it over and over, by habituation, until it becomes a noticeable, but minor, blip on the emotional radar screen.  Meditation assists in this desensitization process, as outlined by the psychologist Richard Strozzi-Heckler in his review of training elite combat troops—In Search of the Warrior Spirit.  Other fine invitations to courage are Leadership Lessons from West Point, by Doug Crandall; and The Code of the Warrior: Exploring Warrior Values Past and Present, by Shannon French.  Both emphasize the necessity of developing a dual mindset—integrating both victory and virtue.

For fans of the western sheriff as hero, there is always the inspirational film High Noon, a touching depiction of moral dedication overriding personal risks.  For fans of kung fu, a galvanizing pean to little people (in this case a small girl) standing up to bullies is the beautiful movie, Kung Fu Girl.  Powerful experiences forge well-grounded attitudes.

Compassion.  Empathy is the cornerstone of psychotherapy (e.g., see Carl Rogers’s classic On Becoming a Person: A Therapist's View on Psychotherapy, Humanistic Psychology, and the Path to Personal Growth).   Some would claim it’s the cornerstone of humanism (e.g., see The Dhammapada, the timeless, charismatic Indian manifesto about how to live a calm and generous life).

Compassion is what drives the Paladin commitment to level the playing field, to correct the injustices, to reach out to the dispossessed, despite the inconveniences entailed.

Their sorrows are your sorrows.  Their triumphs are your triumphs.

Ironically, two of the bestselling genres of literature are romances and mysteries.  Romances (e.g., Pride and Prejudice, Bridget Jones’s Diary) are essentially about love, a catch-all term encompassing compassion, caring, affection, and nurturance.  Mysteries are usually about murder, but that’s just the entrée to the story.  The real story (e.g., The Hound of the Baskervilles, Murder on the Orient Express) is identifying, and bringing to justice, the miscreant.  That investigative process, as celebrated in the myth of the Quest for the Grail, as well as Eliot’s Wasteland, is essentially about restoring fertility to the land.  In other words, mysteries are reverse-romances—they are both about compassion and survival, constant themes of humanity.  A romance ends with love; a mystery begins with love.

Smarts.  Knowledge is power, as they say.  (Therefore is the power elect disinclined to widely promote true knowledge, even as it touts the pseudo-empowering of the disenfranchised.) 

So, it would be smart to be smart.  But what is “smart”, anyway?  Well, different things.

Smart could mean brightly painted.  It could mean crisp and quick.  It could mean cocky and brash.  It could mean being current with the latest buzz (otherwise known as “the news”).  But none of that quite amounts to powerful knowledge.

Here’s the thing.  Reality holds everything we need.  So, it’s, like, really important.  But reality is very complex, and, though it’s always structured in some way, it’s ever-changing.  If you don’t think so, just try to describe a cloud.  (As the Canadian singer-songwriter Joni Mitchell said, “So many things I would have done/But clouds got in my way/It’s cloud illusions I recall/I really don’t know clouds at all”.)

But not to worry.  Over the ages, starting with the storied philosophers of Anatolia, like Thales, very serious folks have come up with various schemas which describe reality—symbolic handles, really—which make reality much more understandable and manageable.   

A shocking proportion of smarts—rigorous, evidence-based, goal-referenced thinking—is simply getting the fundamentals right (e.g., as in Patrick Winston’s classic Artificial Intelligence).   For example, any single thing is a collection of qualities, like white, black, rough, or smooth.  Simply registering things as they are perceived lays an evidentiary foundation for rational thinking.  But it’s not good to get bogged down by a welter of specific cases, so it’s useful to organize cases into types—all the big ones, all the small ones, all the upper things, all the lower things, and so on.  Thinking in types is much more efficient.  Then, types can be correlated—as this type of thing grows, this type grows as well (direct correlation); or, as this type grows, this type shrinks (inverse correlation).  By comparing correlations, causality can be inferred—A correlates with B, but C doesn’t, so it starts to look like A might cause B, but C probably doesn’t.  Reality revolves around causality, so, noticing causal relations is critical.

For example, isn’t it curious that high-level types of businesspeople are routinely selected to become high-level types of government ministers, and that correlates with the government frequently granting remarkably lavish types of favors to business, to the detriment of the public?   And isn’t it curious, in an inverse correlation, that as the wealth of the powerful grows, the wealth of the disempowered shrinks?

A causal relation?  Perhaps.

Mastering a key stock of cognitive schemas, like qualities, categories, correlation, and causality, allows people to penetrate the façade of reality generated by all those press releases and spin doctors sponsored by the exploitive over-privileged.  Social life is something of a sly theater, in which the audiences get mesmerized by the sets, the actors, and the dialogue—the surface.  But a theater is actually governed from behind the scenes—by the director, the producer, the playwright, the costume designer, the accountants, the financial backers, and so forth.  Mastering the rational schemas of existence allows people to penetrate behind the obvious scenery of life to see what’s really going on, who’s causing what, and who’s benefiting.

Uh-oh. 

That’s right—penetrating insight into socioeconomic reality is not something the exploitive over-privileged, of course, care to see promulgated among the hoi polloi, who then might, shall we say, “cause trouble”.  Ergo, all those lamented reductions in funding for public education, that fashionable shift from rigorous education to intellectual fluff, and that catastrophic realignment of the public from facts and rationality to fantasy and emotion, from constructive thinking to horror and dystopia, maneuvered into place by disturbed gangs among the reigning powers that be.  As the sales motivator in the film Glengarry Glen Ross says, “Always be closing”.  (A word to the wise, inasmuch as information wranglers—like salespeople, financiers, movie studios, publishers, media owners, and software engineers—write the narratives that rule the world.)

Some useful (a.k.a. brutal) guides to developing cognitive rigor are: Being Logical: A Guide to Good Thinking, by Dennis McInerny; The Art of Statistics: How to Learn from Data, by David Spiegelhalter; The Reengineering Revolution: A Handbook, by Michael Hammer and Steven Stanton; and Thinking Like a Lawyer: An Introduction to Legal Reasoning, by Kenneth Vandevelde.   A benefit of these sources is they amount to training in the meticulous examination of statements to determine their truth value, and their relevance to public wellbeing.

That is, a key Paladin cognitive skill is checking hypothesis against test results, theory against data, idea against fact, claim against evidence, plan against purpose.  Such rigor is demanding, and in need of guidance.

In a charming parable about straight thinking, Alice, lost in Wonderland, asks the Cheshire Cat which way to go.  The Cheshire Cat says that it depends on where Alice wants to end up.  She says it doesn’t much matter.  The Cheshire Cat then points out that any way will get her there.  This is, obviously . . . not the Way of the Paladin.

Argumentation.  An intriguing aspect of the Bible is that Jesus is portrayed as a skilled logician—focused, hard-driving, and uncompromising, but intellectually light-footed, never trapped.  For example, He is teaching in a temple, when some theological opponents confront Him.  They ask Him by whose authority He teaches.  He neatly sidesteps the question, and offers to give an answer to their question, if they will give an answer to one of His questions.  He then asks them if the blessings of the prophet John come from God, or from man.  Now the questioners are trapped.  If they answer “God”, that sanctifies Jesus’s teaching, because John has blessed Jesus.  But they don’t want to answer “Man”, because that would denigrate the revered prophet John, angering the public, and endangering themselves.  Therefore, they admit they can’t give an answer to Jesus’s question.  Jesus then politely allows as how He won’t give an answer to their question.

A pillar of classical Greek democracy was public debate regarding issues affecting the polis.    A pillar of society in general is discussion, and debate, in relation to issues of importance to the citizenry.  Communication should more or less validly represent reality, as reality is the ultimate point—such as food, shelter, safety, wealth, and sufficient personal power to achieve self-determination.

Ideally, a discussion is an open-ended review of matters of mutual concern—creative, fluid, and exploratory, giving all stakeholders an opportunity to share views, problems, and goals in an unfettered atmosphere.  The original T-groups, rooted in common-sense, democratic practices in the U.S. Navy, and at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, are an example of extremely useful, frank, freewheeling explorations of important topics (such as winning a war). 

A debate, then, moving beyond a discussion, perhaps could be defined felicitously as a narrower, more structured pursuit of the truth as probabilities and preferences become clarified, as positions relative to costs, benefits, and likelihoods begin to crystallize, and as schools of thought begin to coalesce in favor of one view or another.  Nevertheless, all this communication should be conducted in a spirit of candid, cooperative, objective search for the best answer for all participants (e.g., see Mill’s Utilitarianism for this decision criterion of best-answer/bottom-line, total benefit).

However, an actual argument is a different beast, and not a friendly one (e.g., see David Zarefsky’s Argumentation: The Study of Effective Reasoning; and The Debater’s Guide by Jon Ericson, James Murphy, and Raymond Zeuschner).  The essential argument situation is linguistic combat.  The goal is to win, not naively arrive at the truth!  (The true nightmare of card-carrying arguers is to discover, through a vigorous, but fair and objective, review of the issue, that the truth didn’t end up favoring their side!)

The basic strategy of argumentation is to, insistently, (1) showcase the best aspects of the preferred position, while disguising/dismissing the worst aspects; (2) simultaneously, showcase the worst aspects of the opponent’s position, while disguising/dismissing the best aspects.  The upshot is: “As you can see, we are completely right, and our opponent is completely wrong—we leave it to you to judge which side you choose to support.”

In disputes, the Paladin is alert, skeptical, and shrewd, aware of the strange, persuasive bias of argumentation, while preserving an appropriate convivial, composed, and diplomatic manner (e.g., see Ernest Satow’s A Diplomat in Japan, and Joe Bardin’s review of top-tier diplomatic training, The Tower: Visions of Thunderbird, to get a sense a sense of serenity in the lion’s den).  That is to say, the Paladin politely sees through aggressive deceptions, and locks onto a core, truthful formulation of the situation, and confidently, firmly, skillfully takes a stand on behalf of a total assembly, within a larger frame of honesty, justice, and mutual benefit.

Negotiation Savvy.  Sad to say, humanity is far more practiced in the claim of reasonable generosity than in its actual commission.  Discussion and debate are sincere attempts to understand a situation which may be a little cloudy.  Thereby, once matters are clarified, participants anticipate coming to a satisfying agreement.

Arguers have moved beyond the idea of resolution through clarification.  They have already decided they want it their way, and arguing is their preferred method, a familiar linguistic combat field usually yielding dominance.  However, if an arguer can’t prevail linguistically—that is, their argument doesn’t really make sense, so the opposition isn’t buying it—many arguers have a tendency to simply stop arguing, stop wasting their time criticizing the opposition, drop the pretense of being reasonable . . . and pout. 

(Unless they decide to pull the Ten of Swords card from their Tarot pack—threatening extortion, suing to financially cripple the opposition, hiring private detectives to search for scandal, threatening blackmail, or death, hiring public relations teams to unfairly smear reputations, evoking a storm of public abuse, igniting a mob, perhaps finally resorting to that old time favorite solution to irritating problems—violence.  The sociopathic division of the financial elect has a whole armamentarium of barely legal strategies and weapons on which to draw, which it is, naturally, loath to either abandon or candidly publicize.) 

At the point where dueling linguistic advocacy stalls, it’s probably time to negotiate.

The fundamental nature of negotiation is the reality of a separation between two sets of goals, and a search for some degree of middle ground.  Arriving at a middle ground requires that both sides frankly compromise—both sides offer concessions, as a means of gaining concessions. 

The Paladin side wants an elimination of what it views as exploitation. The exploiting side may see itself as compelled by various forces, internal and external, to press an advantage to the max.  It might seem like Paladins aren’t in much of a bargaining position, but they are, at least to a degree.

Paladins are, by definition, esteemed members of society.  If they seriously question the legitimacy of an organization, in a white paper, book, op-ed, press release, press conference, or documentary, or some combination, that could negatively impact the image of the organization.  That brand impairment could have numerous costly repercussions—loss of customers, imposition of boycotts, difficulty in retaining employees, difficulty in attracting top talent, drop in corporate value, difficulty in borrowing money, risk of bankruptcy, CEO embarrassment and vulnerability to replacement, and so on.

Therefore, the Paladin negotiation process is to professionally assert the request for an increase in compassion and justice on behalf of the public, then offer to back off public criticisms, or to help the organization in some active way, in exchange for a reasonable reduction in exploitation.  Wiser heads may prevail.

The mother lode of negotiation training is probably Harvard University’s Negotiation Project, which offers a cornucopia of readily-accessible materials and programs.  A classic work of sensible, low-key, compatible negotiation is Getting to Yes: Negotiating Agreement Without Giving In, by Roger Fisher, William Ury, and Bruce Patton.

Legal Clout.  That’s right—decent people who speak up firmly on behalf of the dispossessed are prime targets for assault by the opposing parties.  If you don’t think so, just consider Jesus, Spartacus, Joan of Arc, Nelson Mandala, Martin Luther King, and Jo Cox.  (You do remember Jo Cox, do you not?)   Nowadays, wealthy and sophisticated, yet sociopathically-inclined people tend not to recruit thugs to impose their misguided will; they prefer to sue, via mondo legal teams, citing some rules, however obscure, by which they can claim to be victims.  Therefore, the sidearm of Paladins needs to be Magnum legal talent. 

But that’s not totally out of reach.  Despite what you may read in Shakespeare, all lawyers are not bereft of idealism.  For example, Becoming a Lawyer: A Humanistic Perspective on Legal Education and Professionalism, by Elizabeth Dvorkin, Jack Himmelstein, and Howard Lesnick, enters a heartfelt plea to not give up on humanistic concerns in the, admittedly, necessary pursuit of a living.  (Not to fail to mention that, as most everyone knows, Bridget Jones’s husband, Mark Darcy, was an international human rights lawyer...).

Computer Clout.  The sophistication of conflict ever escalates.  There was a time when guns were so clumsy and inaccurate that they were widely dismissed as little more than loud curiosities—never to be the match for sword, spear, shield, and bow.  There was probably a time when bows were considered new-fangled but useless diversions—never to be the match for rock and club.

Today, it’s computers.  It’s hard to believe that a rinky-dink silicon device, lining up ones and zeros ad infinitum in some remote location, under the control of some elusive agent, can create a whole new perception of life, whether true or not, destroy a political candidate, or invade another computer and steal money and secrets, virtually controlling governments, universities, and mob violence.   It’s the Sorcerer’s Apprentice déjà vu!  Mickey Mouse has kidnapped reality!

However, one must adapt.  If Paladins are to influence society in beneficial directions, serious computer power is a must.  The brightest computer wunderkinds are often young people, and young people are often idealistic, so, help may be at hand.

Entrepreneurship and Management.  Robert Kennedy’s heart turned out to be in the right place, despite his reputation for relentless toughness (e.g., see Guthman and Allen’s RFK: His Words for Our Times).  He was sorely distressed by the plight of people in neighborhoods in which living conditions were terrible, schools were inadequate, commerce was marginal, and hope nearly had been abandoned.  He grasped that not only were the residents trapped in poor communities, but people who wanted to help were trapped—there was no point in just throwing money at the problem; it would disappear along with everything else.  But a person of conscience couldn’t simply walk away.  So, he devised a practical program of community development for a radically deprived section of New York City.  His restoration approach comprised numerous interlocking components:

Walk the streets.  Get to know people.  Build trust.  Get a sense of what they need and want.  Enlist the support of government leaders.  Organize the community.  Construct a headquarters.  Identify and develop talented locals, and put those into leadership positions.  Get foundations to provide seed money.  Improve the schools, and attract better teachers.  Bring in new businesses by getting governments to offer tax incentives.  Clean up buildings and beautify public areas.  Infuse the community with organizational savvy, pride, and hope.

Thus was central Brooklyn reborn.  One charismatic paladin, one community transformation.

Paladins should avoid being merely ineffectual idealists, haplessly harping about the crises of injustice, as they commiserate on the outside of the corridors of power.  Effective Paladins need to have at least an awareness of how organizations are run, as well as an awareness of the decisive role money can play in the correction of social problems (money amounting to system leverage). 

Business classes abound at community colleges and universities.  Attending even a few goes a long way towards understanding the complexity and power of management and marketing.  The Portable MBA (primarily edited by Kenneth Eads) provides excellent coverage, from finance and accounting to leadership and strategy.  Semper Fi: Business Leadership the Marine Corps Way (by Dan Carrison and Rod Walsh), offers an inspiring introduction to tough but principled competition.  Cicero’s How to Run a Country: An Ancient Guide for Modern Leaders is embarrassingly relevant to current political snafus; his basic argument is that civic problems stem from dazzling leaders cursed with poor character.  For an entertaining look at the dark side of commercial thinking, scan What They Don’t Teach You at Harvard Business School, by Mark McCormack. 

Consulting.  Humanity ever descends into an us-versus-them frame of mind.  Such categorical, conflictual, paranoid-flavored thinking has a tendency to fire up animosity on both sides of a controversy.  A better approach, more on the order of win-win, is for Paladins to conceive of themselves as assisting in the profound improvement of organizations, and thus, society.  That is, they are contributing to the long-range strengthening of systems as they incline them in a more prosocial direction.  Thus, Paladins function as consultants—communicating in a friendly manner, listening well, respecting differences of opinion, analyzing carefully, then offering justifiable, useful solutions in a confident, professional manner.  As the director Mike Nichols used to say in the midst of an acting controversy, “Let’s try this”.

The McKinsey Mind: Understanding and Implementing the Problem-Solving Tools and Management Techniques of the World’s Top Strategic Consulting Firm, by Ethan Raisel and Paul Friga, reviews the thinking behind first-tier, powerhouse consultants.  The essence of McKinsey mind is rigorous, fact-based, causal reasoning— “What changes in conditions would make this system function better?  What steps would lead to those changes?  Who could take those steps?”

Mergers and Acquisitions from A to Z, by Andrew Sherman, gives a sense of the complexity of organizational components and processes.  Due diligence in analyzing an organization allows a certain degree of penetration behind the public relations curtain.  From a Paladin point of view—if an organization appears to be exploitive, what are the chief drivers of exploitation?  Failing business model?  Flawed CEO?  Greedy shareholders?  Toxic culture?  Legal crises leading to desperate measures?  Sophisticated understanding promotes realistic assessments and proposals, which then increase the probability of acceptance.

Understanding, and respecting, the pressures CEO’s and their organizations face on a daily basis (executives as referees between constantly battling bulls and bears, saints and assassins) helps CEO’s look more favorably on prosocial proposals.  From more favorable attitudes are likely to flow more prosocial adjustments.

Speaking, Writing, and Star Power.  As the psychiatrist Jurgen Reusch, and the anthropologist Gregory Bateson (Communication: The Social Matrix of Psychiatry), and the mathematician Norbert Wiener (Cybernetics: or Control and Communication in the Animal and the Machine) were at pains to emphasize—effective communication is essential to competent social functioning.  Therefore, it behooves Paladins to speak well, to write well, and also to . . . radiate a certain persuasive star power. 

I hear you . . . you don’t have any persuasive star power.  But everyone does.  If you don’t think so, just look at Christen Brown’s Star Quality: The Seven-Point Program to Turn Your Inner Strength into Your Outer Power, or Robert Cohen’s Acting Professionally: Raw Facts about Careers in Acting.  The technique, essentially, has two aspects, which can be combined. 

First, recognize that most people find appealing a certain type of person—friendly, polite, cooperative, responsible, reliable, ambitious, hard-working, successful, and fun.  Therefore, if you want to be appealing, focus on cultivating and displaying those foundation traits. 

Second, aside from the first list, make a list of your best personal traits.  These are your favorites, the ones that pump up your pride, and make you, you.  This is your personal flair, your nascent star power.  (“Here’s looking at you, kid”, as Bogart said in Casablanca.)

Now combine the two lists.  This is your preferred Paladin Personality in a nutshell.  It’s highly capable and appealing, as well as being distinctive, natural, convincing, and comfortable.  Thereby, you can be authentically you, while making friends and influencing people (as Dale Carnegie put it so long ago).  Make that Paladin presentation a habit, such that a cheerful, calm, gracious manner, but with flair, becomes second nature, your default mode.

Writing well is much harder than it looks.  Fortunately, it’s a lot like laying bricks—acquire one fact and skill at a time, until you build an impressive structure of communication competence.  The Chicago Manual of Style is a standard reference for proper form, so you don’t get all flustered with those siren malapropisms and ungrammaticalnesses, which land so lightly on the page but strike so savagely the eye of the reader.   (Hola!  Flamingo dancing, anyone?   Or, how about them wolves in cheap clothing?)  The New Yorker and The Elements of Style are the perennial guides to crisp, impressive prose.  Barbara Minto’s Pyramid System reminds writers to focus on the point of the writing, and to rigorously support meaningful conclusions with substantial facts.  (Don’t just wander—we’re looking at you, James Joyce.)

Speaking well is another one of those things which looks easy, but isn’t.  Check out that casual, sustained intensity of Bogart and Bergman in Casablanca.  Or, consider the riveting drama of Jack Kennedy announcing, at his presidential inauguration, “Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty.  This much we pledge.”   However, as with writing, a brick at a time builds an impressive edifice.

Orson Welles talked really good, as noticed by those who do, or, you know—don’t.  Pull up a video of Welles talking to an interviewer, and chime along, one-half beat behind.  It’s good training in enunciation, emphasis, pitch, and rhythm, allied with persuasive body movement and change of expression.  (You, too, can be Xanadu’s Charles Foster Kane.)  Capture the audience!

Simon Montefiore’s Speeches that Changed the World gives a marvelous overview of fantastic speakers, from Queen Elizabeth I to Churchill, and from Gandhi to Malala Yousafzai, who said, at the United Nations, “One pen and one book can change the world”.   The essential concept of Montefiore’s parade of courageous brilliance is this: scheming barbarians of various persuasions are forever pounding at the gates of decent society, and if good people don’t step forward to defend what is right, darkness will be loosed upon the world.

Humor.  That’s okay—go ahead and laugh at the comedians.  Comedy is an odd duck, quacking around the edges of probability.  What makes us laugh is essentially a shocking deviation from common-sense functionality, a piece of madness unexpectedly crashed onto what was heretofore a predictable, plodding parade of facts and reasoning. 

For example, Groucho Marx mentioned, “I once shot an elephant in my pajamas.”  Okay, sounds like the comedian was on a safari, and was hunting in the early morning, or something.  No.  He then elaborates with this amusing improbability— “How he got in my pajamas I don’t know”.  Winston Churchill supposedly remarked, in humorously vilifying an opponent, “He has all the virtues I dislike, and none of the vices I admire”. 

Humor has an uncanny ability to humanize a speaker, or leader, as if to say, “I know how things are supposed to work.  And I know that sometimes things go wildly wrong.  And we do our best to prevent, and to correct that.  But you know what?  Sometimes, we just have to laugh.” 

President Jack Kennedy was once in West Berlin, when Berlin was, frighteningly, enclosed by the Soviet Union.  In a speech to thousands of Germans, Kennedy wanted to assure his audience of his commitment to Berlin remaining democratic.  He had a German translator, so that his speech, in English, could be translated immediately into German.  Kennedy believed he could best connect with the multitude by mentioning, in German, “I am one of you”.  So, he said, “Ich bin ein Berliner!”  But the pronunciation wasn’t quite right.  The translator, of course, then got it right.  Which was a little embarrassing.   Kennedy saved himself, and endeared himself to all and sundry forever, by quipping, “I appreciate my translator translating my German!”

Learning that tension-breaking, reputation-saving, diplomatic grace of being amusing under pressure is not quite as straightforward as learning to write grammatically, but it can be done.  Books like How to Be Funny, by Jon Macks, Comedy Writing Secrets by Mel Helitzer and Mark Shatz, and The Comedy Bible by Judy Carter provide numerous useful suggestions.  Professional comedy clinics abound.  Studying classic comedians, like Laurel and Hardy, and watching exemplary comedies, such as Some Like It Hot, or favorite sitcoms such as Seinfeld, or Cheers, can demonstrate the pattern of boring-set-up leading to . . . UNEXPECTED PUNCH!  Thereby, as some brag, “I’ve got it all together . . . I JUST CAN’T REMEMBER WHERE I PUT IT!”

The renowned comedy group Monty Python achieved its start at Cambridge University, in the student Footlights, and Oxford University, in the student Review.  Conventional comedy wisdom seems to be that comedy timing, and grasping what makes people laugh, can only be learned by telling jokes in front of a live audience, which provides direct feedback.  As the comic Jerry Seinfeld pointed out—the comedians are the experts, but only the audience knows what’s funny.  All that suggests the need for some sort of comedy studio.  Naturally, that can be done . . . and the Commedia dell’Paladin can be incorporated into the curriculum.

Responsibility.  One of the beauties of Jack and Jackie Kennedy, residents of the modern world’s Camelot, was that they just could have sat back on their money and power and watched wretched humanity drift by.  But they didn’t.  They assumed responsibility for the problems they perceived in the world around them (e.g., see Bruce Herschensohn’s John F. Kennedy: Years of Lightning, Day of Drums, and Sally Smith’s Grace and Power: The Private World of the Kennedy White House).  They were a splendid example of the highly talented and successful reaching out, graciously, and charismatically, to the needy and less talented.

A cognitive conundrum reducing responsible behavior, specifically, knowledgeable voting, is the illusion that, “One person won’t make a difference”.  However, as the Harvard psychologist Lawrence Kohlberg pointed out, if everyone thinks that way, and acts on that thought, the social system disintegrates.  The social system is dependent on people playing their part.  Embracing that duty to cooperate is the key to broad compliance with ethical norms, without which society collapses, then explodes, then becomes hostage to totalitarianism. 

(And we don’t want that.  Do we?) 

Philosophy.  No one is perfect.  And not everything works out.  But that’s no reason not to try to ease the world a little closer to the ideal. 

There’s an old, wry observation that the study of philosophy allows one to bear with equanimity the misfortunes of others.  That’s a joke, of course, from everyone’s favorite rake, Oscar Wilde.  But it does apply to oneself, as well.   As the conceptual context of life becomes broadened, specific incidents, tragic or merely bothersome, diminish in their power to disturb. 

Stoicism is the classical frame of mind which encourages acceptance and serenity in the face of even radical stressors.  The classical sources are Epictetus, and his Enchiridion; and Marcus Aurelius, and his Meditations; and a modern version is A Guide to Rational Living by the psychologists Albert Ellis and Robert Harper. 

The basic idea is that people react to events, so that difficulties are as much inside people as what is going on around them.   That is, upsetness is a combination of objective and subjective.  People may not have control over outside events, or other people, but they do have some control over themselves.  That self-control can be nurtured, over the years, to arrive at a composed and functional state of mind even in the midst of aggression and chaos.

To paraphrase Kipling, “If you can keep your head when all about you/Are losing theirs and blaming it on you/If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue/Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch” . . . you’ll be a Paladin!

The very best efforts to acquire a Paladin Personality, and then to play a Paladin Role in life, may result in little more than a modest improvement in the state of the world.  Which could be discouraging. 

Nonetheless, part of the Paladin Philosophy would be to choose the Paladin Role as a touchstone attitude and lifestyle, thus bearing with equanimity the costs (becoming a target of the sociopathic over-privileged) as well as savoring the benefits of being admirably upright.  (Then may one appear, with a smile on the lips, and a song in the heart, on Judgment Day, at the Court of Last Resort . . . wherever that may turn out to be.)

A Code for Paladins

Unified effort is hard to achieve outside of a consistent, broadly sanctioned and supported frame of reference.  Most high-functioning organizations establish a set of principles and rules which unify the group, provide a sense of purpose, identity, and esprit de corps, and generate guidelines for action.  Consider the French Foreign Legion, the U.S. Marines, the Boy Scouts, or the Girl Guides—all require pledges to honor codes as a condition of full membership, and as a unifying pillar of strength.

This Paladin Code becomes a template for a Good Person and a Good Society.  Pledging allegiance to the Code is a commitment to follow a set of brave and generous principles, a promise to engage in a higher-order style of thinking and living.    

• Vision.  Be fully familiar with the Paladin vision of a Good Society guided by Good Leaders, supported by Good Citizens.  Be aware of the basis for prosocial proposals, and the reasons, and agents, behind counterproposals.  Grasp the causal relationship between character development in home and school, the thriving of society, and the health of the world.  Visualize the world you want to see, visualize the leaders you want to follow, and visualize yourself as a Paladin.
• Respect.  Behave in such a way as to engender mutual respect among people—be friendly, calm, and polite, but confident, with gracious gravitas.  Encourage others to speak, to share their point of view, and listen carefully to what they say.  Always be honest, even as you emphasize one point or another, or take a firm position on an issue.  Honor and respect yourself as you honor and respect others.  The core of respect is being helpful to humanity.
• Knowledge.  Research issues conscientiously.  Always be thoroughly familiar with the issues, and the parties, you address—precise, correct, and complete.  Understand that ignorance and errors are lightning rods for disrespect, contradiction, and loss of support. 
• Reason.  Convincing debates are governed by mastery of facts and logic.  Review all relevant facts carefully, then ensure that they are soundly linked to conclusions, then that the conclusions are linked to social benefit.  Be a competent, convincing advocate for compassion, equality, and justice.   Stay reasonable even as others become mired in confusion and conflict, or aggressively launch salvos of self-serving dogma.
• Courage.  Be strong.  Cultivate fearlessness, day by day.  Take pride in who you are, what you believe in, and what you do.  Pride is a foundation of determination, and determination is a foundation of Paladin success.  Stand firm against the assaults of the misguided.  Forge ahead through the complexities of the problems.
• Presentation.  Look smart.  Dress, and groom, well.  Appearance guides impressions; positive impressions facilitate positive discussions; positive discussions increase beneficial impact.  Maintain good posture, and carry yourself with grace and dignity.  Speak clearly and concisely, but with warmth and humor.  Make these things a habit.  
• Loyalty.  Primary loyalty is to family, friends, and community.  Secondary loyalty is to Paladinism, its ideals and members, and thereby to the nation, and to humanity.  Even as you question principles and policies in a search for improvement, show respect to all groups.  Assist other Paladins as needed, as you honor the Paladin Fellowship of Equality.

Philosopher-Diplomats

If an audience speaks a language other than English, such as Spanish, they’ll consider it a sign of respect if you speak to them in their language.  Jackie Kennedy did that in a speech in Venezuela, when she said, in Spanish, “Opportunities for well-paid work, decent living and education.  These things should be available to everyone and not limited to a lucky few.”  The audience cheered its approval, as it leaped to its feet.

It’s a strange, haunting irony of human existence and communication that the average person canonizes goodness and fairness, yet journalists, novelists, producers, and historians overwhelmingly tend to showcase killers of various stripes, and all those nefarious agents of explosive mayhem.  Pray recall that the signature of everyone’s favorite secret agent is the possession of a “license to kill”. 

Generators of savage material and consumers of savage material form an interactive system.  Thus, both bear a degree of responsibility for violent societies, as well as a degree of opportunity for creating peaceful societies.

What we all need is a fellowship of glamourous philosopher-diplomats who can galvanize the public into throwing as much weight behind justice, peacefulness, serenity, and joie de vivre as behind criminality, political/military catastrophes, and visions of Armageddon.  (Don’t we?)

Celebrate the Paladins

The swells all gather regularly at glittering venues—Davos, Bilderberg, Jackson Hole, and such.  Why shouldn’t the Paladins gather annually at some fancy spa to wine, dine, chat, and plan the leveling of the international playing field, in an atmosphere of relaxed bonhomie?

Aachen might work.  The town of Aachen was the headquarters of Charlemagne and his revered paladins—that handful of exemplary, brave soldiers who resolutely stood up for Right.  Aachen is on the westernmost side of Germany, right on the borders of the Netherlands and Belgium—legendary loci of peace and intelligent prosperity.  (A good thing about having a meeting in Germany is the confidence that the bratwurst, potatoes, and beer will be first-class.  Perhaps the Viennese could throw in some pastries.)

Funding

I know what you’re saying— “Nobody paid the Lone Ranger, and Batman was rich”.   And you’re right. 

But here’s an odd fact—an enormous portion of the world’s wealth is in the hands of women.  That’s correct—widows.  Where men might dash off to become the third man to discover the South Pole, or the first man to raise what’s left of the Titanic, women maintain a more practical bent: “What are the children going to eat?  Where are they going to sleep?  Who is going to give them medical care?” 

Wealthy women might be interested in bankrolling a class of humanity dedicated to keeping clever white-collar rapscallions in check.

In addition, there is the tradition of men becoming wealthy, then, towards the end of their lives, becoming philanthropists of good causes.  John D. Rockefeller, a famous oilman, founded the biomedical research institute, Rockefeller University, as well as the philanthropic Rockefeller Foundation.  Andrew Carnegie, who founded Carnegie Steel, at one time the world’s largest steel corporation, engaged in spectacular philanthropy, funding thousands of libraries, as well as financing the building of the Peace Palace in the Hague.  John Paul Getty, another wealthy oilman, bequeathed marvelous collections of classical art to a major city.

Thus, there is reason to hope that Paladinism could become a going concern—adequately articulated, adequately developed, adequately funded.  (As the World’s Leading Paladin said, “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I”.)

Chivalrous Courage—The Eternal Lamp of Humanity:

“We shall not flag or fail.
We shall fight on the beaches,
We shall fight in the fields,
We shall fight in the hills . . .
We shall never surrender.”
- Winston Churchill

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Steve Davidson is a clinical psychologist in Laguna Beach, California, and a contributing editor to The Montreal Review. He has developed a new theory of personality and psychotherapy called human operations. It conceives of people as goal-oriented systems aimed at surviving and thriving, as described in his book An Introduction to Human Operations Psychotherapy.

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