IF you’ve never read Machiavelli, you might think the Italian statesman’s advice to his Prince was “behave like a pantomime villain all the time”.
Machiavellianism has entered the pop-psychology lexicon – alongside narcissism and psychopathy – as one corner of what is sometimes described as the dark triad of personality traits, denoting ruthlessness, cunning, and a flair for duplicity.
In fairness, the 16th-century writer and diplomat gave his subsequent readers plenty of reasons to conclude he had a cynical, manipulative view of politics and human nature. He maintained that politics and morality aren’t the same thing, famously arguing that “it is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both”, suggesting that practical rulers should utterly
destroy their enemies rather than leave survivors to wreak revenge in due course, and recommended princes maintain a healthy capacity for ruthlessness in their decision-making if they hope to thrive and survive.
But his idea of what makes for an effective stateman is a world away from the Dick Dastardly caricatures of modern politicians and party functionaries who persuade the media to describe them as modern Machiavels.
In fairness, the culture has given impressionable middle-aged men bad role models. Life mirrors art, as they say.
And just as Gordon Ramsay convinced a generation of would-be celebrity cooks that chewing out their sous chefs is the best way to perfect a consommé and demonstrate your professional chops in the kitchen, political dramas have also been glamourisers and recruiting sergeants for particular ideas of how politics ought to work and the kind of person you need to be to thrive in this environment.
For the children of the early 2000s, The West Wing spawned a generation of Sam Seaborns and Toby Zieglers, convinced that the best way to resolve intractable political issues is getting your politician to deliver a good speech. Barack Obama’s stint in the White House was probably the apogee of this........