Historic Line of Demarcation

There is a historic line of demarcation between academic freedom and national security (albeit fragile). Starting with the veil of secrecy over nuclear research in the 1940s, to the concern over classified research in the 1950s, to the expansion of export controls to include information in the 1970s, to the exclusion of fundamental research from export control in the 1980s, to restrictions introduced Post 9-11 in the 2000s, to current debates over emerging technologies and global innovation, the academic community and the government have each sought opportunities to demarcate the sphere of their respective authority and autonomy and assert themselves in that sphere.[1]

There are three key documents that serve as pillars of this demarcation. The first is the Social Contract for Science (“Contract”). In 1945, Vannevar Bush[2] produced a report (commissioned by President Franklin D. Roosevelt)[3] that condensed wartime research lessons into a proposal to justify on-going federal support of science.[4]

The Contract spoke to two ends of a spectrum. On the side of science and research (including academia), the Contract argued for a return to freedom of inquiry and freedom of expression for basic research. The Contract believed such a return could release information (hitherto classified) that would be of value to existing societal problems.[5] It also believed that such a return could best advance the frontiers of scientific knowledge for the benefit of society.[6] On the side of the state, the Contract argued that science was an invaluable asset of the state. As such, the state (in the form of the government) should and invest in science for purposes of national defense, economic security, and public health.

The second key document is the 1985 presidential directive (i.e., National Security Decision Directive 189 or “Directive”) excluding fundamental research from export controls. It defined fundamental research,[7] granted scientists jurisdiction over fundamental research and reaffirmed government control over proprietary (commercial) research (i.e., it defined non-fundamental research), and excluded fundamental research from any export control[8] to ensure that the U.S. had a research environment that was “conducive to creativity” and one in which “the free exchange of ideas” was possible.[9]

The third key document is Ashton Carter’s Department of Defense (“DOD”) Memo on Fundamental Research in 2010.[10] The Post 9-11 years saw a rapid rise in restrictions for the sake of national security (e.g. the 2001 Patriot Act). Academia spoke out quickly and forcibly.[11] This battle waged until the Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter drafted a DOD memo on fundamental research in 2010. It reinforced support for NSDD 189 and its definition of fundamental research at colleges, universities, and laboratories.


[1] Samuel A. W. Evans and Walter D. Valdivia, “Export Controls and Tensions Between Academic Freedom and National Security,” Minerva 50 (2012), 169.

[2] Bush was the Director of the Office of Scientific Research and Development during World War II which oversaw virtually all wartime military research and development.

[3] Vannevar Bush, “Science The Endless Frontier: A Report to the President by Vannevar Bush, Director of the Office of Scientific Research and Development” (July 1945). https://www.nsf.gov/od/lpa/nsf50/vbush1945.htm#ch6.4 . Accessed September 1, 2018.

[4] Don K. Price called this Contract “the ‘master contract’ that formed the ‘basic charter’ of the postwar relationship between the U.S. government and the scientific community.” Don K. Price, Government and Science: Their Dynamic Relation in American Democracy (New York: New York University Press, 1954), 70.

[5] “While most of the war research has involved the application of existing scientific knowledge to the problems of war, rather than basic research, there has been accumulated a vast amount of information relating to the application of science to particular problems. Much of this can be used by industry. It is also needed for teaching in the colleges and universities here and in the Armed Forces Institutes overseas. Some of this information must remain secret, but most of it should be made public as soon as there is ground for belief that the enemy will not be able to turn it against us in this war.” Bush, 3.

[6] “The publicly and privately supported colleges, universities, and research institutes are the centers of basic research. They are the wellsprings of knowledge and understanding. As long as they are vigorous and healthy and their scientists are free to pursue the truth wherever it may lead, there will be a flow of new scientific knowledge to those who can apply it to practical problems in Government, in industry, or elsewhere. Many of the lessons learned in the war-time application of science under Government can be profitably applied in peace. The Government is peculiarly fitted to perform certain functions, such as the coordination and support of broad programs on problems of great national importance. But we must proceed with caution in carrying over the methods which work in wartime to the very different conditions of peace. We must remove the rigid controls which we have had to impose, and recover freedom of inquiry and that healthy competitive scientific spirit so necessary for expansion of the frontiers of scientific knowledge. Scientific progress on a broad front results from the free play of free intellects, working on subjects of their own choice, in the manner dictated by their curiosity for exploration of the unknown. Freedom of inquiry must be preserved under any plan for Government support of science.” Ibid., 7.

[7] “‘Fundamental research’ means basic and applied research in science and engineering, the results of which ordinarily are published and shared broadly within the scientific community, as distinguished from proprietary research and from industrial development, design, production, and product utilization, the results of which ordinarily are restricted for proprietary or national security reasons.” Ibid., 1.

[8] “It is the policy of this Administration that, to the maximum extent possible, the products of fundamental research remain unrestricted. It is also the policy of this Administration that, where the national security requires control, the mechanism for control of information generated during federally-funded fundamental research in science, technology and engineering at colleges, universities and laboratories is classification. Each federal government agency is responsible for: a) determining whether classification is appropriate prior to the award of a research grant, contract, or cooperative agreement and, if so, controlling the research results through standard classification procedures; b) periodically reviewing all research grants, contracts, or cooperative agreements for potential classification. No restrictions may be placed upon the conduct or reporting of federally-funded fundamental research that has not received national security classification, except as provided in applicable U.S. Statutes.” Bush, 1.

[9] Ibid.

[10] Ashton B. Carter, “Memorandum for Secretaries of the Military Departments” (2010). https://research.uci.edu/policy-library/export-control-policies/govt-fundamental-research-policy. Accessed September 1, 2018.

[11] American Association of University Professors, “Academic Freedom and National Security in a Time of Crisis” (October 2003), https://www.aaup.org/report/academic-freedom-and-national-security-time-crisis. Accessed September 1, 2018.


Thinking On Your Feet

A guide at Blarney Castle in Ireland was explaining to some visitors that his job was not always as pleasant as it seemed. He told them about a group of disgruntled tourists he had taken to the castle earlier in the week.

“These people were complaining about everything,” he said. “They didn’t like the weather, the food, their hotel accommodations, the prices, everything. Then to top it off, when we arrived at the castle, we found that the area around the Blarney Stone was roped off. Workmen were making some kind of repairs.” “This is the last straw!” exclaimed one lady who seemed to be the chief faultfinder in the group. “I’ve come all this way, and now I can’t even kiss the Blarney Stone.”

“Well, you know,” the guide said, “according to legend, if you kiss someone who has kissed the stone, it’s the same as kissing the stone itself.” “And I suppose you’ve kissed the stone,” said the exasperated lady. “Better than that.” replied the guide. “I’ve sat on it.”

E.F. Hutton

Years ago, there was a financial services company named E.F. Hutton. Their motto was: “When E.F. Hutton speaks, people listen.”

Some of you remember their old television commercials. The setting was typically a busy restaurant or other public place. Two people would be talking about financial matters, and the first person would repeat something his broker had said concerning a certain investment. The second person would say, “Well, my broker is E.F. Hutton, and E.F. Hutton says…” At that point every single person in the bustling restaurant would stop dead in his tracks, turn, and listen to what the man was about to say.

That’s what I call leadership. Because when the real leader speaks, people listen. Is your leadership characterized by this type of response from those around you?

The Civil Dozen — Part 5(b)

After all the drama and excitement of the battlefield, Chamberlain found the professor’s occupation at Bowdoin tame and uninspiring. Despite receiving an honorary doctor of law degree from Pennsylvania College in 1866, and later from Bowdoin in 1869, a restlessness prevailed within him. Chamberlain decided to pursue a political career, and in September 1866 was elected governor of Maine by the largest majority in the state’s history. He served four one-year terms in all, concluding his last term at the end of 1870.

As governor, Chamberlain continued to do what he thought was right, despite objection. He chose to carry out the law and enforce controversial measures as capital punishment even though there were great objections raised by other officials and citizens.

In 1871, Chamberlain was elected president of Bowdoin by the trustees of the college. His presidency, which would conclude in 1883, found him being Chamberlain-like. His reign saw him introduce progressive and occasionally unpopular ideas to the conservative institution. He endorsed studies in science and engineering, de-emphasized religion, and became involved in student demonstrations over the question of ROTC (due to him having students participate in military drills in preparation for the possibility of war). To the end, Chamberlain stood for his ideals despite the opposition. The later years of Chamberlain’s career found him pursuing business ventures, serving as U.S. Surveyor of Customs at the Port of Portland, Maine, and writing about his wartime experiences. Chamberlain passed away on February 24, 1914 at the age of 86, having died of the war wound he received so long ago in Petersburg.

“In great deeds something abides.”




The Civil Dozen — Part Five(a)

After the Union’s victory at Gettysburg, Chamberlain was given command of the 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, Fifth Corps, and participated in the Culpepper and Centreville campaign in October. By now, after having undergone his baptism of fire and many trials with the 20th, Chamberlain had earned the respect and loyalty of his men. The soldiers admired his skill and bravery.

They appreciated his humility and willingness to endure the same conditions as them, sleeping on the ground in the harshest of climates. They appreciated his acts of kindness and courtesy towards them. The attention he paid to the sick or wounded in his command was seen over and over again. The time and care he took in sending home the personal effects of those who died was remembered as well.

By mid-June, 1864 Chamberlain became the commander of the 1st Division’s new 1st Pennsylvania Brigade which fought valiantly at Rives’ Salient on June 18, 1864. At one point in this battle, he bore the flag after the color bearer was killed at his side, until he too was shot by a minié ball. Though the wound was severe, Chamberlain maintained his composure until every one of his men had passed from view. Even in his grave condition he refused preferential treatment, insisting that others with far more serious wounds be tended to first. The belief that Chamberlain’s wound was mortal led to his swift promotion to Brigadier General by General Ulysses Grant. This was the only instance of a promotion on the battlefield given by Grant in the entire war. Chamberlain was admitted into the Naval Academy hospital at Annapolis with little hope for his survival. Chamberlain proved them wrong. His will to live was strong. By November he again reported for duty, despite the fact that he could not yet ride a horse or walk a great distance. On March 29, 1865, Chamberlain and his 1st Brigade were engaged in a hot fight in which they had to employ their bayonets. Chamberlain was again wounded, having another one of his many horses shot under him. Chamberlain was nearly taken prisoner but eluded his captors by posing as a Confederate officer.

Finally, on April 9th, General Robert E. Lee called a truce to halt the four-year bloodshed between the two armies.

Chamberlain was summoned to Union headquarters on April 10th, where he was informed that he had been selected to preside over the parade of the Confederate infantry as part of their formal surrender at Appomattox Court House on April 12th.

Thus was set up one of the most poignant scenes of the war: Of his thinking, Chamberlain wrote: “The momentous meaning of this occasion impressed me deeply. I resolved to mark it by some token of recognition, which could be no other than a salute of arms. Well aware of the responsibility assumed and of the criticisms that would follow, as the sequel proved, nothing of that kind could move me in the least. The act could be defended, if needful, by the suggestion that such a salute was not to the cause for which the flag of the Confederacy stood, but to its going down before the flag of the Union. My main reason, however, was one for which I sought no authority nor asked forgiveness. Before us in proud humiliation stood the embodiment of manhood: men whom neither toils and sufferings, nor the fact of death, nor disaster, nor hopelessness could bend from their resolve; standing before us now, thin, worn, and famished, but erect, and with eyes looking level into ours, waking memories that bound us together as no other bond; was not such manhood to be welcomed back into a Union so tested and assured?”

As the first group of Confederate soldiers prepared to march by Union forces and surrender their arms, the sound of the bugle peeled. Instantly, from right to left, regiment by regiment in succession, the Union forces changed from “order arms” to the old “carry arms” marching salute.

General Gordon was the Rebel commander at the head of the column. Riding with a heavy spirit and downcast face, he was stunned to hear the sound of shifting arms. He looked up and saw the salute. He immediately understood the meaning. The victors were showing honor to the defeated.

The Rebel commander, in a profound salutation, dropped the point of his sword to the toe of his boot. Then facing his own command, gave word for each successive brigade to pass by the Union troops in the same “carry arms” marching salute. They were to answer honor with honor.

With no sound of trumpet – no roll of the drum, no cheer, no word, no whisper, no motion of on the part of the Union forces – brigade after brigade of Confederate soldiers marched through the Union forces on both sides of the road in an awed stillness. It was as if everyone was holding their breath. It was as if it were the passing of the dead!

In his speeches and memoirs, Gordon would always remember Chamberlain’s decision that day. He called Chamberlain “one of the knightliest soldiers of the Federal Army.”

The Civil Dozen — Part Four

Part Four

On June 3, 1863, Confederate General Robert E. Lee began the Army of Northern Virginia’s second invasion of the North. Lee’s main objective was to move across the Potomac River and try to separate the Union forces from Washington.

When the Army of the Potomac’s commander, Maj. Gen. Joseph Hooker, belatedly became aware of the Confederates’ movement, he began to force-march his army north, trying to keep Lee to the west and screen Washington from the Rebel troops.

On June 28, as the bulk of the Federal troops enjoyed a brief respite near Frederick, Md., Meade replaced Hooker as commander of the Army of the Potomac.

Lacking adequate intelligence from his scouting forces, Lee directed his army to gather at Gettysburg. The general did not want to fight at Gettysburg, but alert Union horsemen had reached the area — a fact that would put a wrinkle in Lee’s plans.

On July 1, Major General Henry Heth headed toward Gettysburg with four brigades of infantry to drive off the reported Union troopers and secure the town.

To Heth’s surprise, waiting for him was Union Brigadier General John Buford, who had dismounted and deployed his cavalry on McPherson’s Ridge, west of Gettysburg. Buford’s forces fired first, temporarily halting Heth’s force and starting the Battle of Gettysburg.

The Confederates managed to exploit weaknesses in the Federals’ deployment, and their attacks caused heavy losses to the Union troops, who were forced to retreat. Confederate General Ewell’s failure to carry out his orders and attack Cemetery Hill on the afternoon of July 1 wasted a golden opportunity for a quick, decisive victory. The Union had lost 4,000 men by that time — and the town of Gettysburg itself — but Meade quickly moved reinforcing divisions onto the high ground south of Gettysburg. The two armies spent a restless night.

The Union defensive line on Cemetery Ridge resembled an inverted fishhook, extending from Culp’s Hill on the north, down Cemetery Ridge and southward toward Big and Little Round Tops. Although the 650-foot-high Little Round Top was overshadowed by its larger neighbor, its position was more important because much of the hill was cleared of trees and it could better accommodate troops. Strategically, Little Round Top held the key to the developing battle. If the Southern troops could take and hold the hill, they could theoretically roll up the entire Union line.

Robert E. Lee, with his eerie sense of a battlefield, was hastily assembling a force to attack the Union left on the morning of July 2nd. Unfortunately for the South, it took him the greater part of the day to get his men ready to strike.

Meade, realizing the danger of not holding the high ground on his left flank, sent his chief of engineers, Brig. Gen. Warren, to assess the situation. To his utter chagrin, Warren found Little Round Top completely undefended. He hastily sent messengers to Meade and Sickles, requesting immediate assistance. Colonel Strong Vincent, who commanded the 3rd Brigade of the 1st Division of the V Corps, received word from a harried courier about the threat to Little Round Top and led his men to the hill at the double-quick. Vincent’s brigade included the 358-man 20th Maine under Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain.


The afternoon of July 2nd, the second day of the Battle of Gettysburg, found the Twentieth Maine on the extreme left of the Union line. Colonel Vincent said to Chamberlain: “You cannot withdraw under any conditions. If you go, the line is flanked. If you go, they’ll go right up the hilltop and take us in the rear. You must defend this place to the last.”

Chamberlain thought of that statement as he toured his Regiment’s preparations. Hold to the last. To the last what? Last man? Last shell? Last foot of ground?

Then he saw the Rebels. Gray-green-yellow uniforms, rolling up in a mass.

They seemed to be rising out of the ground. Suddenly he heard the terrible scream – the infamous Rebel yell. The wave of Rebels hit the stone wall and stalled.

This gave Chamberlain the opportunity to move towards the right side of his line. He saw that the casualties were significant. He knew he could not remain for long Because the emptiness to his left was a vacuum drawing him back that way.

The second attack broke before he could get back to the left side of his line. The attack came all down the line, a full, wild, leaping charge. This time three Rebels came over the low stone wall. It took some hand-to-hand fighting to take care of the intruders but the second attack was beaten back.

As Chamberlain moved to a set of boulders to get a better view of the battlefield, he felt an explosion under his right foot. The foot hurt and he felt the blood but did not see a hole in the boot. Thank God!

Chamberlain clambered up on a high boulder. He knew that he gave the Rebels a big target but he needed to see what was coming. From rock to rock, from tree to tree, the third attack was coming. It was not as wild as the first two but the masses of men and flags were coming. To his alarm, he saw that many were moving out to encircle his left. He yelled: “They are going to turn us!”

Bam! He was knocked clean off the rock. The blow in his side felt like a lightning bolt. Hands pulled him up. He looked down. Blood? No. But the hip, oh the hip hurt. He steadied his mind. He remembered: “They are flanking us!”

He yelled to his aide: “Get all of the company commanders.” What was the phrase in the manual? Oh yes, refuse the line.

The commanders were arriving. Chamberlain for the first time, raised his voice: “We’re about to be flanked. Now here’s what we do. Keep up a good hot masking fire. That will force the Rebels to keep their heads down. Keeping up the fire, I want to hold very tightly to the 83rd on our right. Men will sidestep to the left, thinning out to twice the present distance. See that boulder on the far left? When we reach that point we’ll refuse the line and form a new line at right angles. That boulder will be the salient. Any questions?”

The third attack struck the angle at the boulder and lapped around it only to run into the new line. The charge collapsed again. Chamberlain looked around. Everywhere were bodies, smoke, and the sound of guns firing.

The fourth assault came against both flanks and at the center all at once.

Chamberlain dizzy in the smoke, began to lose track of events. The assault so pressed the Twentieth Maine that there was only a few yards between the line on the right and on the left.

As the assault again failed, Chamberlain asked what the state of ammunition was. “We can’t get any ammunition, sir.” Chamberlain ordered: “Send out the word to take ammunition from the wounded. Make every round count.”

He heard the fifth assault coming. Up the rocks, clawing through the bushes, through the shattered trees – it struck the left flank. Men fell all around him. Chamberlain himself had to shoot two Rebels at point blank range.

Chamberlain thought: “They can’t keep coming. We can’t keep stopping them.” He limped along the line. There were signs of exhaustion everywhere. He thought: “We cannot hold.”

He checked with two of his aides. One said: “We’ve lost a third of the men, Colonel. The left is too thin.” Chamberlain asked: “How’s the ammunition?”

The other aide answered: “Some of the boys have nothing at all. Should we pull out?” Chamberlain said: “We can’t. If we don’t hold, they go right on by and over the hill and whole flank of the army caves in.”

“Colonel, they’re coming again.” Chamberlain marveled. We can’t go back. We can’t stay where we are. The Rebels coming up the hill for the sixth time stopped to volley. The Union weakly returned the fire.

An idea formed in Chamberlain’s mind. “The Rebels have got to be tired. They’ve got to be close to the end. We’ll have the advantage of moving downhill.”

Chamberlain said: “Fix bayonets! I want a right wheel forward of the whole Regiment.”

One of the lieutenants said: “Sir, excuse me, but what’s a right wheel forward?” One of the other lieutenants answered: “He means charge.”

Chamberlain added: “Not quite. We charge, swinging down to the right. We straighten out our line. The right end holds to the 83rd and we swing like a door sweeping them down the hill. Let’s go.”

The Rebels were just coming into plain view, moving and firing. Chamberlain raised his saber, let loose the shout that was the greatest sound he could make: “Fix bayonets! Charge!”

He leaped down from the boulder, still screaming, and all around him his men were roaring animal screams. The whole Regiment arose and poured over the wall and charged down the hill.

Chamberlain saw gray men stop, freeze, crouch, and then quickly turn. He could not believe it. The Rebels were turning and running. He had never seen them run. The Regiment was driving the line and men in gray were moving down the hill. The Regiment swung in front of the 83rd on the right but kept chasing the Rebels down the long valley between the hills. Rebels had stopped everywhere and were surrendering. Up the hill, the soldiers of the 83rd were waving and cheering.

Chamberlain said to his aide: “Go on and stop the boys. They’ve gone far enough.” The aide said: “Yes, sir. But they are on their way to Richmond.”

“Not today,” Chamberlain said. “They’ve done enough today.”


Part Four Lessons


There is one additional lesson that we can take from the Battle of Little Round Top and apply them to ourselves:

8. Be willing to be audacious and do the unexpected.

Dare to be different! That’s what made Churchill, Reagan, and Lincoln tower above the crowd. Leaders don’t play it safe. Leaders don’t always follow the script. They do the unexpected. They pull surprises. They catch their audience unawares.

What did Reagan do when he met Premier Gorbachev at Berlin for the 1986 conference? Did he observe the usual niceties of negotiation? Did he follow the traditional dictates of diplomacy? Was his speech type bureaucratese? No, he was blunt: “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down that wall!” Reagan knew that what the situation called for was not some bland cant of banalities but words that would move and shape history.

An unconditional display of courage can send an unusually strong message. When the Japanese surrendered in 1945, General McArthur flew to Japan, landing at Narita Airport, which is close to thirty miles from the center of the metropolis. An armored car had been selected as his conveyance into the city. MacArthur chose instead an open limousine. Staff members who were traveling with him inspected their rifles and pistols, but MacArthur said: “No firearms.”

Then the slow drive into Tokyo commenced. MacArthur stood in the back of the open car, arms raised high as he passed by hundreds of thousands of Japanese troops lining the road, all standing at attention. The Japanese were awed by this display of courage. MacArthur dared to be different.

Chamberlain’s charge – a nearly defeated, inferior foe against a nearly victorious, superior foe – was bold. It was audacious. It was different. Learn from Chamberlain. Be bold. Act audaciously. Dare to be different. Do the unexpected.

The Civil Dozen — Part Three

Chamberlain said: “When did you eat last?”

There was no immediate answer from the mutineers. Finally one man said: “They been tryin’ to break us by not feedin’ us. We ain’t broke yet.”

Chamberlain nodded and said: “They just told us you were coming a little while ago. I’ve told the cook to butcher a steer. Hope you like it raw. There is not much time to cook. We’ve got a ways to go today and you’ll be coming with us, so you better eat hearty. The food has been set up for you back in the trees.”

No one moved. Not a single person moved. Chamberlain turned away. He thought: “What would he do if they would choose not to move?”

Finally, a scarred man stood and called out to Chamberlain. “Colonel, we got grievances. The men elected me to talk for ‘em.” “Right.” Chamberlain nodded. “You come on with me and talk. The rest of you fellas go eat.”

Chamberlain turned away and was pleased to hear the men were up and moving toward the food in the trees. He smiled at the spokesperson, extended a hand, and asked: “What’s your name?” The man stopped, looked at him for a long cold second. The hand seemed to come up against gravity, against his will. This was automatic courtesy and Chamberlain was relying on it. “Bucklin. Joseph Bucklin.” Chamberlain invited Bucklin to have coffee and then listened silently to the man’s story.

They were interrupted by the arrival of a courier. “Colonel Chamberlain, the Twentieth Maine is to move out and is instructed to take the first position in line.” Chamberlain instructed his aide to strike the tents and he turned to Bucklin. “We’re moving out. You better hurry up and go eat. Tell your men I’ll be over in a minute. I’ll think on what you said.”

His regiment was up and moving. Chamberlain shook his head. “God, I can’t shoot them. If I do that, I’ll never be able to go back to Maine when the war’s over.”

He walked slowly toward the prisoners thinking, at least, it’ll be a short speech. He stood in the shade, waited while they closed around him silently.

“I’ve been talking with Bucklin. He’s told me your problem.” Some of the men grumbled. “I don’t know what I can do about it. I’ll do what I can. I’ll look into it as soon as possible. But there’s nothing I can do today. We’re moving out in a few minutes and we’ll be marching all day. We may even be in a big fight before nightfall. But as soon as I can, I’ll do what I can.”

They were silent, watching him. He did not know what it was, but when he spoke most men stopped to listen.

“I’ve been ordered to take you men with me. I’ve been told that if you don’t come I can shoot you. Well, you know I won’t do that. Not Maine men. Here’s the situation. I’ve been ordered to take you along, and that’s what I’m going to do. Under guard if necessary. But you can have your rifles if you want them. The whole Reb army is up the road waiting for us and this is no time for an argument. I tell you this: we sure can use you. We’re down below half strength and we need you, no doubt of that. But whether you fight or not is up to you. Either way, you are coming along.”

Chamberlain bowed his head, not looking at eyes, and continued. “This Regiment was formed last fall, back in Maine. There were a thousand of us then. There is not three hundred of us now. Some of us volunteered to fight for the Union. Some came because we were ashamed not to. Many of us came because it was the right thing to do. All of us have seen men die. Most of us never saw a black man back home. This is a different kind of army. If you look at history you’ll see men fight for pay, or women, or some other kind of loot. They fight for land, or because a king makes them, or just because they like killing. But we’re different. We’re an army going out to set other men free. This is free ground. All the way from here to the Pacific Ocean. No man has to bow. No man is born to royalty. Here we judge you by what you do, not by what your father was. Here you can be something. Here’s a place to build a home.”

He had nothing else to say. No one moved. “I didn’t mean to preach. But I thought you should know who we are. Go ahead and talk for a while. If you want your rifles for this fight you’ll have them back and nothing else will be said. If you won’t join us you’ll come along under guard. When this over I’ll do what I can to see that you get fair treatment. Now we have to move out.”

Chamberlain moved to the head of the column. The troops were moving slowly, patiently, preparing themselves for a long march.

His aide came riding up with a big smile. “How many are going to join us?”

Chamberlain asked. The aide said: “Would you believe it? All but six!”


Part Three Lessons

There is one additional lesson that we can take from the resolution to the mutiny of the old Second Maine and apply them to ourselves:

7. Master the skill of persuasive speech.

Leadership is selling. And selling is talking. Ask yourself this: Do I have the communication skills to rise to the top? Do I have the star power to keep my company growing? Do I have the ability to persuade others?

If today is a world of change, it is also the age of the personality cult. Hollywood knows this. The political world knows this. The corporate world is learning this! Success today is more easily determined by those who possess the ability to deliver “a gravity-defying performance of style over substance” (NY Times; February 2001; re: Tony Blair).

So how do you master the skill of persuasive speech? You study the charismatic techniques of the greatest communicators and change makers in history (e.g., “Speak Like Churchill; Stand Like Lincoln” by James C. Humes). You adopt techniques such as – a power pause, a power opener, a power quote, a power parable, a power gesture, a power question, a power word, a power closer, etc. – to supply yourself with the presence, poise, and power to persuade others.



The Civil Dozen — Part Two (b)

Part Two [2]

He was born Lawrence Joshua Chamberlain – on September 8, 1828 – in a cottage near the family homestead in Brewer, Maine. Brewer was a farming and shipbuilding community. Chamberlain’s parents named him after the heroic Commodore James Lawrence who had immortalized the words: “Don’t give up the ship!” The eldest of five children, young Lawrence was raised as a Puritan and Huguenot (French Protestant) in a household which prized good manners, cheerfulness, morality, education, and industry. During his adolescence, scholastic studies and farm work kept the shy, serious, and dutiful youth busy. This combination of scholastic studies and farm work taught him many lessons. One of the most important was earned while plowing the rough fields. His strict and taciturn father taught him that sheer willpower followed by positive action could accomplish seemingly impossible tasks. His father, a former lieutenant colonel in the military, wished for his son to enter the army. But his mother, a religious woman, wanted him to study for the ministry. After much consideration on the matter, Lawrence agreed to enter the ministry if he could become a missionary in a foreign land, a popular career choice of the time.

In 1848, Lawrence entered Bowdoin College at Brunswick, where he began using Joshua as his first name. During these initial years away from home, the introverted 19-year-old felt lonely and spoke little because he was embarrassed by his propensity for stammering. Joshua – remembering the lesson from his father about sheer willpower followed by positive action overcoming seemingly impossible tasks – learned to overcome his stammering by “singing out” phrases on a “wave of breath.” By his third year at Bowdoin, he had won awards in both composition and oratory.

As a student, Joshua earned a reputation for standing behind his principles. He refused to cut corners. He refused to cheat. He refused to even marry the girl he loved until he had a means for providing for her. This sense of honor never deserted him, even when under fire. When not pursuing his studies, Joshua enjoyed singing and playing musical instruments. Without any training, he learned to play both the bass viol and the organ by himself. In fact, he played the organ so well, he became the college chapel organist. In 1852, after he graduated Phi Beta Kappa with his bachelor’s degree from Bowdoin, he completed a three-year master’s degree at Bangor Theological Seminary. Finally, in 1855, he married Francis (Fanny) Caroline Adams – the girl he had loved for over six years. Joshua was elected professor of rhetoric and oratory at Bowdoin in the Spring of 1856. By 1861, he was elected to the chair of modern languages. Joshua was well-qualified for this position, having mastered nine languages – Greek, Latin, French, German, Hebrew, Spanish, Italian, Arabic, and Syriac – in preparation for a career in overseas ministry.

All of that changed with the outbreak of the Civil War in 1861. Joshua felt a strong desire to serve his country. Despite the displeasure of the Bowdoin staff – Joshua’s strong sense of honor resulted in him becoming a Lieutenant Colonel of the 20th Regiment of Maine Volunteers in August, 1862. The scholar-turned-soldier knew that there was much to learn. Joshua immediately took advantage of his position as second-in-command and studied every military work he could place his hands on. He stayed up late at night studying and memorizing these works. Joshua pressed his commander, West Point graduate Colonel Adelbert Ames, to teach him everything Ames knew about military strategy.  In a matter of months, the scholar-turned-soldier was as capable as all but the best of the military officers in the Union army. 

Part Two Lessons

 There are several leadership lessons that we can take from the early story of Joshua Chamberlain. These soft skills are both needed and relevant in the 21st century.


4. Being a self-starter is a core leadership trait.

A self-starter is a person who is sufficiently motivated or ambitious to start a new career or business or to pursue education and skill acquisition without the help of others.

Chamberlain was a prototypical self-starter. For example, Chamberlain learned to play both the bass viol and organ. He did this by himself and with no formal instruction or training.


5. Mastering multiple skills – in preparation for the future – is what often distinguishes oneself from the crowd.

To effectively influence people, you have to stand for something. You have to be something. You want to be the brown egg in a carton of white eggs! Gone are the days of being content to simply be a box of Cheerios on the cereal aisle and expect a sizeable number of people to randomly pick us out of a crowd. [Sinclair, Branded: Sharing Jesus with a Consumer Culture, p. 64] Gone are the days where your value as an employee was linked to your loyalty and seniority. Companies use branding to develop strong, enduring relationship with customers. Likewise, you must do the same as you prepare for the future.

If you don’t build a differentiated reputation, if you don’t master multiple skills, you risk being commoditized. You become just one of many un-differentiated accountants, HR managers, programmers, salespersons, technical leads, or account managers. Consider what we think about something being a commodity. If something is a commodity, we are willing to buy it from the lowest cost provider. Commodities are neither valued nor treasured. Commodities are viewed as both expendable and replaceable. Don’t be a commodity. Choose to stand out from the crowd.

Chamberlain – throughout his life – acquired new skills. He obtained two different degrees, learned how to excel at playing musical instruments, and mastered nine languages. He taught. He became a soldier. He became a leader of men. He distinguished himself from the crowd.


6. Being a perpetual, humble student is the mark of a great leader.


Humility is not taught in management courses or in many leadership courses, for that matter. Organizations want their leaders to be visionary, authoritative, confident, capable, and motivational. Yet, humility is the primary requirement for leadership. Or stated in a different manner, humility is the foundation of leadership. Why is humility essential to leadership, it is because humility:


  • Acknowledges our sinfulness

The Psalmist writes: “Who can discern his errors? Acquit me of hidden faults.” (Psalm 19:12-13). This acknowledgement of man’s sinfulness has been a foundational principle of all successful governments. For example, this acknowledgement led our founding fathers to build into the very fabric of our governmental structure, a separation of powers. Each branch of government – executive, legislative, and judicial – is bridled by a series of checks and balances. Why? As Lord Achton stated in 1887: “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”


  • Comprehends our creatureliness.

The second reason that we need humility in leadership is because it comprehends our creatureliness. The word “humility” itself comes from the Latin word humus, which means “dirt” or “earth.” True humility should never let us lose sight of our human mortality with all of its limitations (Armour, 2007).


  • Authenticates our humanness.

The third reason that we need humility in leadership is because it authenticates our humanness. Or as John Baldoni states in his article entitled “Humility”: “Humility is a strand between leader and follower that underscores one common element – our humanity.”


Chamberlain was a perpetual, humble student. He quickly and willingly submitted himself to others. This submission allowed him to grow intellectually and spiritually. His trait of humility paved the way for leadership greatness later.