Leader Less

Over time, technology didn’t exactly take a nap in a hammock.
Engineers kept pushing limits, eager to make things faster, better, more efficient — and yes, more profitable.
And lately, the great obsession has been leaderlessness.
Human control is out, computer control is in.
Artificial intelligence shall do the steering, navigating, and deciding.

So, where will the former driver or captain of a moving, flying, or floating something sit now?
Ah yes — in the corner of the replaced, sipping coffee and reminiscing.

In the German-speaking world, the word “Führer” has always been problematic.
Well — it was for the past eighty years.
Too closely tied to that wird-mustached Austrian painter with a talent for mass destruction.
Now, shockingly, the term seems to be creeping back into public language —
complete with its toxic accessories: racism, hate speech, scapegoating, finger-pointing, and moral decay.
Really? Again?

The modern job description for a “leader” sounds far more pleasant:

“A leader’s power rests on a combination of authority, responsibility, and the ability to provide others with direction and motivation.”

Beautiful words, yes — but curiously vague.
Missing, for example, are ethics and integrity,
two small items that separate leadership from manipulation.
And where, one wonders, is the clause about the abuse of power
and how to prevent it?
You’ll find it, perhaps, hidden deep in the fine print of a constitution.

The idea that a society must always have one or several leaders to function
has started to lose its shine.
A classic example: William Golding’s Lord of the Flies.

A group of British schoolboys survives a plane crash on a deserted island.
Without adults to guide or control them, they attempt to create their own order.
What follows is chaos, cruelty, and a collapse of moral restraint.
Golding’s tale is not just a fable about stranded boys —
it’s a mirror held up to humanity’s darker instincts,
a reminder that our thin layer of civilization can tear faster than we think.

But the Dutch historian Rutger Bregman wasn’t satisfied with fiction.
He went looking for the real story —
and found one that tells a very different truth.

In 1965, six boys from Tonga borrowed a small fishing boat.
A storm wrecked it and cast them onto an uninhabited island.
They stayed there for over a year.
And unlike Golding’s characters, they did not descend into violence.
They built a shelter, created rules, divided tasks fairly,
resolved arguments calmly — and survived through cooperation.

Bregman’s rediscovery reveals what Golding’s parable obscured:
humans are not inherently wicked.
Under pressure, we are just as capable of kindness, solidarity, and grace.
Leaderless, they led themselves — together.

What a refreshing reminder.
Sometimes leaderless simply means free.
Free to trust, to cooperate, to share responsibility.

Maybe that’s progress:
a society that doesn’t need a Führer —
but knows how to stand tall on its own.

May I join?