Stewardship, Families, and Politics

In certain roles, the concept of stewardship­––prioritizing the long term health and welfare of an institution­––is easy to apply. For example, as Chair of a private school Board, my role and that of my fellow Trustees was first and foremost to ensure that the school’s reputation and solvency remained intact. As well we needed to stand aside and let the talented headmaster run things day to day. In our Board meetings we frequently discussed our responsibility to leave future Boards with an institution that was as robust as possible. In that situation, knowing how to be a good steward was remarkably straightforward. And pretty much free of conflict.

A parent in a family is also a steward, hoping to prepare their children to live a meaningful and fulfilling life. And parental stewardship stakes as well as the biological imperative have a long span, the aim being to pass on both your genes and the better angels of your nature to many successive generations.

But for a parent, the role of stewardship is a daunting task. There is no general definition of proper parental stewardship. And, anyway, how many parents actually have a consistent sense of long term priorities for their children? From my own experience, I suspect most parents figure it out as they go, doing their best to make decisions day to day, hoping that they have acted in their children’s long term best interests, without following a singular “north star.” That’s how I recall my parenting.

And inevitably what I recall are moments of parenting that in retrospect cut against any possible semblance of good long term stewardship. Those specific memories are like having the front page headline writer for the New York Post in my head. Never good news, always some scandal. “Three year old daughter traumatized and in tears after being forced down treacherous flume ride by clueless father.”  

In my memory, all the smooth and happy family times are elusive, indistinguishable from one another. Of course we have photos and videos that can prompt pleasant recall, but the video I recall best is one taken by my younger son. It’s of me giving a droning monologue about Mideast politics at a Passover dinner in Rome, circa early 2000’s, my son’s precocious videography capturing the bored, glazed expressions of my trapped, suffering listeners.

In any event, the “success” of a parent’s effort at stewardship can only be judged from the vantage point of one’s current (and always shifting) relationships with your kids and by your sense of whether they’re happy and fulfilled.

And I’ve found that the cliché of being only as happy as your least happy child is spot on. My favorite parenting movie scene is from the movie Parenthood.  Steve Martin goes wild at a Little League game when his son Kevin, shy, morose, and not good at sports, makes a rare good play, and for the moment Kevin is happy and Steve is delirious with joy. Clip at the end.

So often the right thing to do as a parent is guaranteed to lower, if not demolish, your popularity with your child. “You’re the worst parent in the world” is something every parent should expect to hear multiple times. (At least that’s what I’ve been told by experts who’ve told me not to take it personally!)

Popularity with your non-adult children may in fact be a contra indicator of your effectiveness as a parental steward. A parental approval rating is pretty easy to attain in the short run. Just as politicians run polls to gauge the belief and opinions of their voters, parents could theoretically run polls of their children. “Unlimited candy and make your own bedtime/curfew” will always poll well.

More or less sneakily, I’ve just introduced politics into this post. Faithful stewardship is perhaps at its most challenging in the political realm, especially for a political executive­­––– a mayor, a governor, or a president. An executive politician will naturally want to be re-elected. And re-election depends on approval. At the same time, that executive will have to balance stewardship with popularity.

As with my example of a school board, proper and ethical political stewardship will mean making decisions with an eye toward future generations of leaders. A good political steward will strive to leave their successor with as many problems solved and as few new problems created as possible. But often, solving problems will mean calling out bad news and asking for some short term sacrifice in return for longer term prosperity. And of course, that risks cutting against short term popularity.

It’s a difficult dance. It strikes me that the farther away a politician is from having to run for election again, the easier it is to emphasize the stewardship nature of the role. For this reason, there was a movement many decades ago to change the constitution to give a president a single six year term. Well intentioned, but passing a substantive constitutional amendment is a quixotic quest. 

Perhaps the only thing that can help solve the natural political conflict between stewardship and popularity is effective communication. I think of Churchill’s example in telling the British people just how dire their situation was when he took office in May, 1940. Britain’s main ally France was about to fall to Nazi Germany. The bulk of the British army was in danger of being trapped in France. Britain would soon be alone.

The immortal line in Churchill’s famous inaugural speech was, “I have nothing to offer but blood, toils, tears, and sweat.”

At the same time there was a political canniness to his approach. He made it clear he was inheriting an “ordeal of the most grievous kind.” And that “[the British people] have before [them] many, many long months of struggle and of suffering.”

He had long warned against the coming of such an ordeal and of such suffering, and this first speech was his opportunity to make clear that he bore no responsibility for past policies that had led to the current “grievous” state of affairs.  

Then Churchill went on to say that his aim was “…victory, victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory, however long and hard the road may be…”