Perhaps you—like my Uncle “Moon”—know someone who needs a little boost, a little kick in the courage, in order to fly. Be the encourager, the older brother or older sister, the mentor, the friend, the one who will give that person the courage to soar.
The Bible tells us, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”2 You have the power, the love, and the sound mind you need to make a difference in the world. Ask God to take away the fear. Then see where your courage takes you.
When you take on the challenge, think big. Dad easily could have enjoyed more years in television, making investments and saving his money, then retiring to raise horses at the ranch. But he felt called to make a difference—and he began to think big.
He had fought Communism in Hollywood in the 1940s and 1950s. In his mind, it was only logical that he should take the fight all the way to Moscow. So the next natural step, of course, was to run for president.
Now you and I don’t need to be president of the United States in order to make a difference. You can make a big difference wherever you are. But whatever you do, think big. Start a business, start a charity, start a movement, run for office, build a hospital, shoot for the moon. Once you have a dream, step back and imagine how you could make that dream even bigger. Keep imagining, keep growing that dream, until it’s so big it scares you.
Then go make that dream come true.
Set goals that are big, yet easy to understand. Dad was a professional communicator, and he understood the need to communicate big ideas in simple terms. So when he sat down with Richard V. Allen and laid out his vision for dealing with the Soviet Union, he told Allen, “We win and they lose.” The idea was so simple and so powerful that Dick Allen couldn’t wait to join my father’s campaign team—and his administration.
Big goals, simply stated, are attractive, and they draw supporters to your cause. When you communicate your dreams to others, make them big and keep them simple.
Practice being a visionary. My father once said, “To grasp and hold a vision—that is the very essence of successful leadership, not only on the movie set where I learned it, but everywhere.” He was a true visionary. When everyone around him saw a world held hostage by a doctrine of mutually assured destruction, he saw a world in which a missile defense shield made nuclear weapons obsolete. When everyone around him saw only détente with the Soviet Union, he saw a future in which we win, they lose.
We can all train ourselves to become visionaries. Vision, as Dad said, is truly the essence of successful leadership. Many people mistakenly think that vision is the ability to foretell the future. But my father showed us by his example that vision is the ability to foresee a possible future—and the commitment to turn that vision into a reality. Visionaries don’t just see the future—they create it. When you have a vision for the future and you commit yourself to making it come true, that vision energizes you in several important ways:
First, your vision draws you forward toward your goals. When you have a vision of the future always in front of you, you can see exactly where you’re going. Your vision gives you a sense of focus and direction, and it keeps you from getting distracted and drawn off course.
Second, your vision energizes you. It helps you maintain your excitement and enthusiasm for the goal. It motivates you to push through obstacles and opposition.
Third, your vision fires up your imagination. The world needs leaders who can envision a world beyond terrorism, beyond political division and strife, beyond AIDS and Alzheimer’s, beyond pollution and energy shortages. What bold, imaginative, “impossible” dream can you envision? How will you make it come true?
Fourth, your vision enables you to persevere and finish strong. My father had his first inkling of the Strategic Defense Initiative missile shield in 1967. He persevered into the 1980s against opponents and scoffers to get the SDI program up and running. Visionaries always face opposition. You can’t be a visionary if you are easily discouraged. The power of your vision enables you to keep going through tough times.
Let me suggest some ways you can sharpen your vision skills and practice thinking like a visionary:
First, discard all limits on your imagination. Overturn all your assumptions. Question every restriction others try to impose on you. When people told Dad that the Soviet Empire would last for centuries and could not be toppled, he said, “Well, we’ll just see about that.” He rejected the limitations on the future that others simply accepted.
Second, don’t listen to your inner critic. There’s a voice inside you that says, “It can’t be done. It will never work. Let’s not go overboard.” That inner critic makes us worry about what other people will think, about whether we will make a mistake and look foolish. Dad never seemed to be troubled by that voice. He didn’t worry about whether his ideas would be popular. If he was convinced he was right, he didn’t care what anyone else thought.
The inner critic makes us afraid to take risks or make ourselves conspicuous. The inner critic tells us to play it safe, to follow the rules, to not make waves. My father was never afraid to take risks, and he was constantly making waves. The boldness of his vision attracted people to his side, and turned Dad’s ideas into a revolution—the Reagan Revolution.
Third, consider all possibilities. Dad was never content with just one solution to a problem. He liked having dozens of options and solutions to choose from. He would gather his economic team or his national security team, and they would brainstorm creative solutions to difficult problems.
Case in point, in keeping with my father’s doctrine of “We win, they lose,” one of his first orders of business was to stop the flow of American technology into the Soviet Union, which propped up the Soviet economy. This was the first order of business at a National Security Council (NSC) meeting Dad chaired about five months after taking office. The subject of discussion: the trans-Siberian oil and gas pipeline, which was then under construction. Once completed, the pipeline would produce huge profits for the Soviet economy—and the Soviets were stealing American technology to build it. At the NSC meeting, Dad called for creative solutions.
A few days later, he attended an economic summit in Ottawa, Canada. There, French president François Mitterrand told Dad about a KGB officer, Colonel Vetrov, who was working for the French. Vetrov, whose codename was “Farewell,” provided information on the Soviet theft of Western technology, from machinery to computer software. Dad returned to Washington and assigned NSC staffer Gus Weiss to study the “Farewell” documents—and Weiss came up with an idea: Instead of shutting down the technology thefts, why not let the Soviets steal what we want them to steal?
That was the kind of thinking Ronald Reagan loved. He ordered the CIA to have a specially prepared pipeline control system sent to Canada, where it would be stolen by the KGB. The plan worked and the Soviets stole the device and installed it to regulate pipeline pressure. Instead (as the CIA planned), it caused a pressure buildup and a massive explosion—the equivalent of a three kiloton bomb. The blast dealt a crippling blow to the pipeline project—and the Soviet economy. It was a key factor in the ultimate collapse of the Soviet Union.
Finally, consider this: What if there had been no Ronald Reagan? What would the world be like today if this man had never been born?
In June 2004, we laid my father to rest on the grounds of his presidential library in Simi Valley, California. That night, our family stayed at the Bel Air Hotel, where many of the dignitaries who had attended my father’s funeral were staying. When we went downstairs for breakfast, I saw one of my father’s dearest friends and closest allies, Lady Margaret Thatcher. I went to her and said hello, and she smiled and greeted me warmly.
We talked about the close relationship she and my father had enjoyed. “Michael,” she said, “I’ve often thought of how close your father came to winning the nomination in 1976, and how much we could have accomplished if he had become president four years earlier. The Cold War might have
ended four years sooner, and the world would have been spared so much suffering.”
“I think Ronald Reagan arrived in the White House at exactly the right time,” I replied. “Had he been elected in 1976, I don’t think he would have accomplished all that he did. In fact, if he’d been elected in 1976, the Cold War might still be going on today.”
She looked surprised. “Why do you say that?”
“Ronald Reagan needed allies in order to bring down the Iron Curtain, and none of his allies were in place in 1976. You, Lady Thatcher, were my father’s strongest ally, and you didn’t become prime minister until 1979. Pope John Paul II came on the scene in 1978—and his visit to Poland in 1979 gave rise to Lech Walesa and the Solidarity movement. Vaclav Havel rose to prominence in Czechoslovakia in 1977. Helmut Kohl wasn’t chancellor of Germany until 1982. And Mikhail Gorbachev didn’t come to power until 1985—a year after Ronald Reagan would have left office if he’d been elected in 1976.
“None of Dad’s allies were in place in 1976—but almost all of you were in place when he was inaugurated in 1981. It took all of you, working together, to end the Cold War. I think God’s providence put you and Dad and every other player in position at just the right moment in history.”
“Thank you, Michael,” she said. “I had never thought of that.”
The same God who put Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher and all the other players in position in the 1980s is still at work in your life and mine. So I ask you: What if you had never lived? How would the world be different if you had never been born? What kind of difference have you made in the lives of the people around you—in your neighborhood, your school, your community, your world?
And what kind of difference could you make? What kind of difference will you make?
The sky’s the limit. Never underestimate the power of one.
11
Be a Leader
IN OCTOBER 1979, Nancy called a family meeting at the house in Pacific Palisades. My sister Maureen rode with Colleen and me. Even though Nancy hadn’t told us what was on the agenda, we were pretty sure we knew: Dad had decided to run for president.
When we arrived, Dad walked out of the bedroom and seemed surprised to see everybody. Apparently, Nancy had called the meeting without telling Dad. We gathered in the living room—Patti, Ron, Maureen, Colleen, and I, facing Dad and Nancy.
“Your father has something to tell you,” Nancy said.
Dad said, “I just returned from a speaking engagement in Atlanta. The same thing happened there that’s been happening in Pennsylvania and Florida and everywhere I go. When I check into a hotel, the bellmen who carry my bags ask me why I don’t run for president. They say, ‘Governor Reagan, we need you.’ When I go to my room, I find a note on my pillow from the chambermaid: ‘Mr. Reagan, please run for president. We need you.’ Based on what I’m hearing around the country, I think I have a good chance to be elected president of the United States. So I’ve decided to run.”
There was a moment of awkward silence—no one said anything.
Then Patti began to sob quietly. She was studying acting at the University of Southern California, was politically liberal, and had tried to distance herself from her famously conservative father while he was governor of California. Now Dad was going to run for president—and Patti would still be in his shadow.
Ron, the youngest, stared at the floor unhappily. Also liberal and at a rebellious stage, he had felt oppressed by his parents’ expectations of him while Dad was governor. If Dad became president, Ron knew that the glare of the spotlight would become a thousand times hotter.
Maureen, Colleen, and I stood up, went to Dad’s side, and told him we would support him all the way.
I’m sure Nancy was distressed by the unenthusiastic reaction of her two biological children. But this meeting was the first step in her campaign to get all four of Dad’s children solidly lined up behind his candidacy.
After the meeting, Maureen, Colleen, and I went out for a glass of wine. We raised our glasses and Maureen made a toast: “Here’s to our father. If he doesn’t win the White House, we’ll run him for president of the Chambermaids and Bellhops Union!”
Dad’s rationale for running was vintage Reagan. He didn’t say that some GOP bigwigs or a group of conservative millionaires had urged him to run. He said, “The chambermaids and bellhops tell me I’ve got to run.” These were Ronald Reagan’s people. He was a grassroots American, and he never forgot that it was grassroots Americans who built this country.
Well, Dad ran and captured the nomination, then he went on to win a resounding victory in the general election. Taking office in January 1981, he proceeded to engineer the most astonishing turnaround in American history. He cut taxes and revived the dying economy. He restored American influence on the world stage. He confronted and dismantled Soviet Communism.
Unfortunately, many leaders today claim that Ronald Reagan’s ideas are no longer relevant to America in the twenty-first century. Even many Republicans no longer study my father as a leadership model. But principles don’t change, and Ronald Reagan’s leadership principles are more urgently needed today than ever before.
As the leader of the free world, my father proved that leadership is not about being “the boss.” Leadership is about inspiring people and unleashing their enthusiasm and creativity. We have far too many self-important, self-promoting leaders today who have confidence only in themselves. My father had confidence in the American people, and that was the secret of his greatness.
Dad relied on firm principles to guide his decisions. When he strode into the Oval Office in 1981, he put a new policy in place: “We win, they lose.” One of his aides, Herb Meyer, recalled, “Ronald Reagan was the first Western leader whose objective was to win. Now I suggest to you that there is a gigantic difference between playing not to lose and playing to win. It’s different emotionally, it’s different psychologically, and, of course, it’s different practically.”1
In 1980, my father ran on three simple promises: revive the economy, rebuild the military, and defeat Communism. He remained focused on those three promises throughout his presidency. He cut taxes and brought the dying economy roaring back to life. He restored the military and negotiated with the Soviets from a position of strength. He ended the Cold War without firing a shot—and soon after he left office, the USSR collapsed. Mission accomplished.
In my lifetime, there has never been a leader like my father. He is a role model of leadership like no other. What can we learn from his example? The lessons are endless. Let me share with you some of the insights I’ve discovered by studying the leadership career of my father.
Not a Vote—A Decision
In August 1981, seven months into my father’s first term, 13,000 members of the Professional Air Traffic Controllers Organization (PATCO) defied federal law and walked off the job. The union had already signed an agreement giving the workers a $40 million increase in salary and benefits—then the union came back and demanded more concessions totaling $681 million. PATCO had endorsed Dad in the 1980 election, so the union probably expected him to support the PATCO strike. Instead, Dad ordered them back to work within forty-eight hours or they would be fired and replaced. The union called his bluff.
The PATCO leaders should have asked me. I would have told them from personal experience: the Gipper doesn’t bluff.
When Dad announced his decision, a reporter asked, “Mr. President, why have you taken such strong action . . . ? Why not some lesser action at this point?”
Dad replied, “What lesser action can there be? The law is very explicit. They are violating the law. . . . You can’t sit and negotiate with a union that’s in violation of the law.”2
When the strikers continued to stay out on strike, Dad carried out his promise, firing them all and banning them from federal service for life.
Dad’s handling of the PATCO strike had far-reaching implications. From then on, everyone who sat across the negotiating table from my
father—including Democratic lawmakers and the Soviets—knew he wasn’t bluffing. He was a man of his word.
In 1986, Dad gave an interview to Fortune magazine about his leadership style. He explained that a large part of his leadership philosophy was “dictated to me by a little plaque on my desk that says there’s no limit to what you can do if you don’t mind who gets the credit.” He added:
Beyond that, I believe that you surround yourself with the best people you can find, delegate authority, and don’t interfere as long as the overall policy that you’ve decided upon is being carried out.
In the Cabinet meetings—and some members of the Cabinet who have been members of other Cabinets told me there have never been such meetings—I use a system in which I want to hear what everybody wants to say honestly. I want the decisions made on what is right or wrong, what is good or bad for the people of this country. I encourage all the input I can get. . . . I want to know.
And when I’ve heard all that I need to make a decision, I don’t take a vote. I make the decision. Then I expect every one of them, whether their views have carried the day or not, to go forward together in carrying out the policy.3
My father didn’t ask for a show of hands. He decided. His decisions often went against the advice he received. His advisers told him not to give the Evil Empire speech, but he did. They told him not to go to the Berlin Wall and say, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall,” but he did. They told him not to go into Grenada, but he did. And then there was Reykjavík.
Lessons My Father Taught Me Page 19