The reputation of a thousand years
Scale Up Podcast, Hatamoto, and Bushido
In feudal Japan, all power was rooted firmly in the Emperor, a semi-divine figure who could do no wrong. He was a sacerdotal king, combining the offices of High King and High Priest. His actions on earth were held to have Heavenly significance and access to him and his court was tightly controlled. While appealing in theory, it was a terrible way to rule the realm, and often political decisions were made by favorites and court creatures with no tie to the ultimate outcome of decisions, a recipe for revolution and strife.
Eventually a new system of governance began to evolve when the Tokugawa Shoguns wrested political power from the Imperial Court, while leaving ceremonial, religious and moral authority vested in the Sovereign. They paid lip-service to the fact that the Emperor was the only valid power in the country while wielding the power on his behalf and at his express invitation. It was a legal fiction allowing for the Imperial office to persist, while actual policy decisions were made elsewhere by those more capable of executing them.
In order to make the new system workable, the Shogunate developed a feudal system remarkably similar to that of medieval Europe. In theory, the Emperor owned all land and every tradable good in the Empire, the Shogun managed it as his Administrator, and the Shogun divvied up resources and positions amongst his followers as reward for faithful service.
Feudalism gets top-heavy and unwieldy, though. It eventually develops layers of authority, who then create further layers below them until power is so divided that authority is diminished. The further away you are from the source of power, the less power you yield. Access becomes authority.
To solve for this problem, the Shogun created a special position outside the feudal hierarchy, that of hatamoto, or “bannerman.” A bannerman was an army officer bearing his Lord’s crest on a banner who carried confidential communications — battlefield intelligence, special announcements, political summons, etc. — who had instant and unquestioned access to his Lord at any time, and under any circumstance. The feudal Lord had several bannermen who would bring him news for action at all hours of the day or night. They had access because he needed information.
As the position developed, it became the position of highest honor in a Lord’s court and very importantly, it was bestowed only because of merit, not heredity. While there were families who kept hatamoto status for generations, they only did so by continually and strenuously proving their value to the paramount Lord.
“The reputation of a thousand years may be determined by the conduct of a single hour.”
— Samurai Proverb
While it might be nice to think of myself as a fierce Samurai warrior who people fear and tremble to serve, that isn’t really the reality in today’s world, is it? More’s the pity, really, because I’d be a great samurai following the ethical life code of bushido. Bushido was known as “the Warrior’s Way,” and provided eight core principles of behavior that all samurai were bound to follow:
Moral rectitude: Doing the right thing because it’s the right thing without regard to timing or impact.
Courage: The active impulse to do the right thing in the face of adversity or resistance.
Benevolence: The power not to do what one has the power to do.
Politesse: Courtesy held as an indicator of the intrinsic value of another person is expressed through manners and politeness.
Honesty: A commitment to truth, sincerity and candor.
Honor: A vivid understanding of the value of dignity and self-worth.
Loyalty: Recognition of the contribution of others and the debt that creates in those who benefit from it.
Self-Control: The ability to stifle near-term impulses for the benefit of long-term results.
Moral codes are hallmarks of shame and honor cultures. We are told today that we have transcended them for the climate of moral relativism that we find inculcating every aspect of life today. Call me old-fashioned, but I sometimes often long for the days when it was easier for a man to keep score on his actions against a shared roster of communally held values. Maybe I wouldn’t want suicide and beheading to be as prevalent as it seems to have been in medieval Japan, but the cult of honor at least had a court of last judgment.
“Be not afraid to go slowly / be afraid to stand still.”
— Samurai Proverb
In my own life, I sift through the hundreds of people that I meet each year to hopefully find someone who adheres to a moral code, and works on behalf of others to foster growth and increase. I’m lucky to have found several of these men and women who I call hatamoto in light jest. I shared the concept with Brad Hart, once, and he beamed with pride and still lets me know he considers it a high honor. He introduced me to Nick Bradley, another man whose wisdom and advice I always want to have access to me. There are others on the list, too, like the guy who befriended me in college, became a doctor and held my Mom’s hand as she lay dying with tears in his eyes like she was his own mother. What won’t I do for him, and vice versa?
All of these people are special to me and my assistant knows that they are to be prioritized above all others when they make a request. They’ve earned it and when so many may clamor for your time and attention, being intentional on who gets it is the mark of maturity.
“Those who chase two hares will never catch even one.”
—Samurai Proverb
Speaking of Nick Bradley, he and I recorded a podcast episode on his Scale Up podcast that released this week. In it, you can hear the journey behind writing my book, A CEO Only Does Three Things, and see the love and care that Nick takes for those around him. Give a listen and subscribe to hear his other, really phenomenal, guests.