It’s not a mug’s game anymore so get out of Canberra

In case you don’t know, Australia doesn’t have a parliament at the moment. We had an election and no one won it. Everybody is talking about what it all means – where the major parties went wrong, how it will resolve. Some people are saying that Australia’s hung parliament demonstrates that our political system is ill, the major parties are out of touch, that we need something new.

Here’s what I reckon: we don’t need a new way of governing – we already have it, but our major political parties and much of the rest of the political machine are reluctant to realize it. Our society isn’t broken, it’s just that our political system has stopped being able to adequately reflect it.

Those who have not yet realized the switch insist on applying the political analysis of the 1980s and 1990s. Examples include Michelle Grattan calling Rob Oakeshott naïve for his “cheeky” suggestion of a grand coalition; when long-time ALP supporters talked about the shame it was that the ALP ran a poor campaign – like a better campaign could have brought that miserable party out of the doldrums; when ALP supporters cast blame on those who voted for the Greens. Those voters did not slip and fall onto their ballot papers – they made a real choice. And don’t think you can call it a ‘protest vote’ as though that doesn’t really count. For shame that traditional ALP supporters have to protest with their vote. They are angry and so disgusted that would even risk an uncertain election outcome just to tell the ALP just how angry they are.

As commentators reflect on the unusual outcome of our election, people talk about ‘the race to middle’ as a way to lament the demise of strong ideals in government. The race to middle that sees the major parties run where the votes are instead of demonstrating strong leadership. But here’s the thing, I don’t think the race to the middle in an inherently bad thing.

First of all, government should indeed reflect the values of the community. Yes, they should also lead the community places where it sometimes doesn’t want to go, just as Abraham Lincoln took Americans towards the end of slavery without waiting for popular support. But a good government cannot do that all the time. It must struggle to strike balance and know when it’s time to push for change and when it’s time to step in line – which is actually an essential part of good leadership. A government cannot always take the Australian people where they don’t want to go. That can be frustrating when we see our nation behaving poorly, such as we have behaved towards asylum seekers. But those values debates aren’t just for government to fix with some ‘leadership’, they are the ongoing struggles we need to have as Australians and as people. Those struggles will never be easy, they will never end and a government can and will only ever do so much. A true test of this is that a government who screams ahead of its people will have the opportunity to govern taken from them at the soonest available opportunity. Mary Robinson, former President of Ireland and truly inspiring UN High Commissioner for Human Rights said on being pushed from her UN post by the Bush Administration, “I came into this job not to keep a job, but to do a job.” As much as I desperately await the moment that an Australian politician shows half the courage and morality of Mary Robinson, such methods sadly do not provide stability. And as anyone who knows about the long and slow work of building a strong nation will tell you, frequently changing governments does none of us any good.

Secondly, the middle that the major parties are racing to, maybe it isn’t such an evil place. We are witnessing the rise of the centre as fewer and fewer people associate clearly with a left or a right. But the centre is not just the place for ideologically bereft or apathetic people who haven’t found their end of the spectrum, it is a real and active choice that says what I want is a good government. It is about effective over ineffective, thoughtful over reactionary, doing what is required to make Australia a better country. It is not about historical links to a political ideology.

As the major parties organically move away from there historical roots and closer to the centre, voting somewhere in the middle for the team who seems best for the job seems like a pretty smart move. It occurs to me that what I’m describing is just a regular ‘swinging voter’.  But just as the old left-right paradigm has changed, I feel that this is something different. And at the end of the day, applying our methods for understanding the nuances of Australian politics from 20 or even 10 years ago seems pretty foolish at this point.

A new friend of mine recently illustrated the beauty and the power of the centre so well that it makes me feel that I could as comfortably call myself ‘centre’ as I could call myself ‘left’. I knew before I met her that she comes from a politically conservative family and had voted for the Coalition her whole voting life. I liked her a lot as soon as I met her – one week before the election – but decided not to spend too much time talking party politics. A week later we got together again and, after a few drinks, we all began to dissect our voting histories. She confessed to us all that she had indeed voted for the ALP at this election because she made a call about who was going to provide a more effective government. I am sure there were many deep thinking Australians who voted for the Coalition or the Greens or an Independent on similar grounds. This is the heart and power of the centre – it matters less who you vote for than it matters that you gave it some thought.

Thoughts, information, ideas, engagement: that is where the recent election campaign failed us. In order to think deeply, you need access to information, you need to be engaged. But instead, as the major parties raced to middle, we all raced to find something else on TV. (Thank goodness for some astuteprogramming on the ABC that allowed me to poke fun at our miserable political system while still getting to know the people in the business.) People will say that it is an individual’s responsibility to education themselves about politics, but political parties have got to come to the party. Just as any functional organization knows, you can’t write an Occupational Health and Safety policy then put in on the shelf. When the rate of injuries begins to climb, only the worst managers would argue that the policy was there all along for staff to peruse.

Giving Australians a political environment that they can engage in and think about and care about. That’s real leadership and right now we aren’t getting it from the political establishment.

I was desperate to turn 18 and it wasn’t because I would be able to drive or drink alcohol. I was just so desperate to vote. I had already begun a tradition of setting myself up on the couch with pillows and blankets and popcorn to watch the election and I wanted to participate in all the action. Ten years later, I still can’t drive and I could barely be bothered with the election at all.

In that strange way that we do, I assumed that the election wasn’t really about people like me. People like me are getting by in life just fine, so people like me don’t see elections as being about our own prosperity. People like me are more concerned about the big ideas and aspirations for a better world. People like me find more resonance with that quote about the best indicator of a nation’s humanity being how it treats its most vulnerable. But people like me are in the minority right? Most people are concerned about how interest rates will affect their mortgages…right?

But when I look at those statistics about Generation Y, I fit every average. Straight down the middle. So if I’m average in education, average in work experience, average in marital status, maybe there are more people like me than I realize – and for the record, I’m damn sure we’re not unique to Generation Y.

So maybe the reason why this election saw more informal votes than any other was because we’ve all begun assuming that the election isn’t about us anymore. It’s for someone else and they seem to be ‘working families’ with extensive misinformation about refugees on boats – or so the major parties would have us believe. So instead of voting in an election where your values aren’t represented anywhere; instead of voting to get a good party into power, or even just to keep the worst party out; maybe it was too hard to stomach voting for any of them?

On the Sunday after the election, as the city buzzed with intrigue about our parliamentary ambiguity and the excitement of a Green winning a seat in the lower house, I played a game with my friends over a few glasses of wine: “Would you run for parliament, and if so which party?” We were sitting on Spring St, watching the sun lowering over Parliament House to give it that warm peachy glow. If ever we would answer yes to this question, it would be today – when politics felt exciting and something other than a foregone conclusion felt possible. All three of us, whispering conspiratorially, agreed that maybe we would run. Which party? “Oh….well…independent I suppose. What other real choice is there?”

For many years, politics has been a mug’s game and as long as the political establishment insist on maintaining a status quo that the Australian public is screaming to shake off, politics will continue to attract mugs and Australia will suffer for it.

Misplacing the moral authority

The failure of ethical leadership at the United Nations and its implications for organisational effectiveness

From 2007 to 2010 I was a volunteer and then a paid consultant for a United Nations entity. I worked in Aceh, Indonesia, and then in the Regional Office in Bangkok, Thailand. Our office in Bangkok, along with numerous other United Nations agencies, was located within the compound of the United Nations Economic and Social Commission for Asia and the Pacific (UNESCAP), the regional development arm of the United Nations for the Asia-Pacific region.

A message over the loud speaker had called all staff in the compound to a ‘town hall’ meeting with the visiting Deputy Secretary-General, Asha-Rose Migiro. After a couple of hundred people gathered in the Assembly Hall we rose for the entry of the Deputy Secretary-General. She spoke briefly, mostly about the challenges the UN would face in coming months and years in light of the global financial crisis. As governments reallocated budgets to bail out banks we didn’t yet know how much would be redirected away from international aid. It was an anxious time.

The folksy title of the town hall meeting had indicated an open-floor meeting with no fixed agenda, no need to follow the usual protocol. I was doubtful there could be open dialogue, but ever the hopeful, I went to the meeting prepared to engage.

The floor was quickly opened for questions, and the room fell silent. A senior staffer broke the silence with a question I’ve since forgotten. It was followed by two or three questions from other senior staff about relocation policies and promotions. The back rows were full of young people, and of the faces I recognised – 50 or so – no one was a permanent staff member. We were doing the daily work of our agencies on consultant contracts, volunteer schemes and as interns. Staff promotions were not part of my reality and did not feature in my expectations of the future.

After the first sputtering questions, like a car engine that tried but failed to turn over, the room fell silent again. My doubts about the potential for open dialogue were confirmed. Anywhere else I might have asked a question, just to break the ice, but in my second year with the UN, I had learned my lesson – I was to be seen and not heard. After a moment, a young guy stood up. He introduced himself as an intern from Singapore. As he spoke, what I already subconsciously knew was brought into sharp focus. Juniors, especially interns, do not ask questions. The palpable tension and hostile glances confirmed that. He asked confidently, “As a young professional, why should I choose to work for the UN?”

Ask not what the UN can do for you, but how hard you can work before burn out. This had, since the moment I entered the UN, been the most consistent message: Don’t expect special treatment, because there are many thousands more behind you waiting to take your place. Work hard. Don’t complain. Don’t expect anything in return.

The Deputy Secretary-General was caught off guard. Nothing about this scenario conformed to expectations. I don’t recall her response verbatim, but I remember one phrase with piercing clarity. She reminded the intern that he could not expect great financial reward, but the UN did offer one clear advantage over all others: the opportunity to “work for organisation that has the moral authority”.

Her answer shocked me as much as the intern had shocked her. Months of my own personal frustration seemed to come down to this moment when the leadership of the UN seemed so fundamentally out of step with the values we espoused. I didn’t say anything that day, but I wish I had said this:

The young, idealistic, enthusiastic people who filled the back rows of this assembly hall aren’t here for the money. And yet we suspect that many of our managers are. We are here because we want to be a part of the organisation with the moral authority and yet, eventually, we will walk away.

We walk away from hierarchy that dictates that we can’t speak in meetings, even though we are doing research, designing projects, writing reports and providing analysis for our agencies.

We walk away because we pour hours into work and watch it get sent away with our manager’s name on it.

We walk away because we see senior staff who seem to care as deeply about their position titles and salary grades as they do the issues of their agency. Respect is accorded on a vertical scale. Effectiveness and decency are not factors to be considered.

We walk away because we see protocol smother opportunities for meaningful engagement, tired of organising seminars where substantive content is considered for a moment and – as if our lives depend on it -we make sure the running sheet reflects seniority flawlessly.

We walk away because we see poorly implemented projects continue to be poorly implemented. We are worn down from producing the lies and spin that fill progress reports and public relations materials.

We leave because our simple ideas of how to make a project better are not heard and not welcome. Initiative is frowned upon and even punished.

Bullying is rampant. As a confident Australian raised on relaxed hierarchy, I could stand up to my bully, a scared manager passing on the abuse that had come down a long chain from above. My colleagues weren’t as confident and had a lot more to lose. So I stood up for them and communicated my concerns to more senior staff. But the bullying in my office continued, our projects achieved little and we squandered money. Most importantly, staff suffered emotionally and professionally.

We walk away when we watch other talented people walk away. We don’t want to be left behind with those staff who lust for prestige and money and ignore the inefficiencies for fear of disturbing their own good fortune.

We walk away because of a fundamental failure of leadership to shape this organisation to practice the values we preach, to demand efficiency, to stamp out harmful behaviour, and to expect more. Organizational culture is, in many offices, toxic.

My experience working for the UN was in many ways professionally rewarding and emotionally tumultuous: an experience that has led to me to believe that it is morally imperative that workplaces are positive places for staff and at least not harmful to their wellbeing.

In researching this essay I was surprised to find a report from 2000 by the UN Joint Inspections Unit that identified the need to address “work-life” issues in order to increase retention of young qualified staff. I could have been a case study for the situation they described. Recognising that the UN must find a way to decrease the “steady outflow of young professionals through resignations,” the report stated:

Most young professionals enter the United Nations system with great expectations as to the nature of the tasks which they will be asked to accomplish. However,…insufficient structures for integration, orientation and development of staff restrict their ability to make a significant contribution to the work of their organizations, leading to rapid disenchantment…A general failure of management to provide enough support to young professionals and attention their concerns and initiatives, can also lead to frustration and separations (Weiss 2009:111).

I was pleased that it had been recognised, disappointed that a decade later it was still relevant.

I agree with the Deputy Secretary-General’s assumption that the opportunity to work for the organisation with the moral authority is enough to retain staff. Perhaps this is true more so for my generation than any other. We know material comfort, so we set its pursuit aside and get on with the business of finding meaning in our lives through our work. We come to the UN to work for the organisation with the moral authority but we find something else. We are deeply disappointed to find systematic disregard for the values the UN espouses such as integrity, tolerance and respect.

The UN has the unique power to set globally accepted standards and norms of behaviour (Sills 2004:47). Its normative power resides not only in the organisation and the machinery that falls under its auspices, but also, I would argue, with every person working under the banner of the UN. With such power comes responsibility. It is therefore justified to hold the international civil service to the highest standards. “The standard bearer must abide by the standards that it has set for the rest of the globe” (Weiss 2009:119). Just as we expect ethical conduct from our clergy and our judiciary, so we should from the UN.

The position of the UN as the world’s moral authority does present unique challenges to management. Calls for reform of the UN system are frequent and extensive (see Weiss 2009, Gold 2004, Simons 1995, Touval 1994, Jett 2000) and range from addressing the structure of the Security Council to the size of the bureaucracy. However, from my perspective as a worker, the most damaging and apparently overlooked problem within the United Nations is negative organisational culture.

While working for the UN I accepted the daily limitations of the organisation. I knew it would not, even at its best, live up to the expectations it generates. I regularly defended the UN amongst my disenchanted friends. But as I defended it, I also knew that the UN was lagging far behind best practice in organisational management. I had watched talented, energetic, determined and creative young people walk away, frustrated to learn that this organisation did not value what they offered.

In my offices there was no sense of the power of individual leaders to shape the organisation. There was scant awareness of the need for leadership. Having since joined a Victorian Government department where leadership is discussed daily, its absence at the UN is even more apparent.

Some managers were excellent leaders when it came to determining the intellectual direction of a project. The problems existed in the way the offices operated. No one set the tone, there were no clear standards for professional conduct and some of the worst abuses were perpetrated by those who should have been setting those standards. This generated a confused culture in which people ignored their personal needs and the needs of others. Respect between individuals wasn’t valued, and the appearance of achieving goals (a separate consideration to actually achieving goals) overshadowed every other consideration in the office. Aggression, unkindness and disrespect for colleagues were excusable in the pursuit of achievement. What we were doing was ‘more important’ than sparing the feelings of individuals.

A sound organisational culture is the key to effective organisations (Wood 2004:436). “Management scholars and consultants increasingly believe that [culture] can have a major impact on the performance of organisations and the quality of work life experienced by their members” (Wood 2004:436). Organisational culture is shaped by the behaviour of leaders and a set of structures, routines, rules, and norms that guide and constrain behaviour (Schein 2004:1). “These dynamic processes of culture creation and management are the essence of leadership and make one realize that leadership and culture are two sides of the same coin” (Schein 2004:1). Leaders define organisational cultures (Hogan 2007:2) and according to Herzberg, the most important demotivator in an organisation is incompetent and abusive managers (Herzberg 1966 in Hogan 2007:105).[1] Reflecting on my experience with the UN, it was moments of incompetence and abuse within management that constituted the greatest challenges to morale.

A model utilising leadership to redefine organisational culture could revitalise the UN bureaucracy, and it is not an impractical claim. The quality and effectiveness of the staff is “a variable that can be altered far more easily, swiftly, and cheaply” than other aspects of the complex UN system (Weiss 2009:112). Furthermore, employees are the main strength of the UN and they are also the main expenditure (Weiss 2009:192), therefore, by focusing on its people, we could see revitalisation across the UN system.

As a part of revitalising the organisational culture, I believe the UN should return to the concepts of idealism and dedication of the international civil service originating with the League of Nations in 1919 and growing in sophistication by the time of the inception of the UN  (Weiss 2009:191). In my view, this revitalised international civil service would place integrity at the centre of its actions, with a clear sense of the values of the UN, and leaders who regularly reinforce those values. Joining the international civil service would involve an explicit acceptance that you would be held to higher account. Therefore, modelling ethical behaviour would become a central feature of organisational culture.

Setting such high standards, which will not always be met, is a sobering task. But I suspect that it’s the trying that matters most. The UN starts from a strong position. Even with ongoing criticism the UN still has an aura. Intelligent, enthusiastic people all over the world dream about working for the UN. These are not conditions many organisations can boast.

A positive organisational culture amongst a workforce as large and diverse as the UN will never be an easy thing to guarantee. Furthermore, discussing organisational culture in cross- and multi-cultural environments is a complex task that will have critics. But the UN must try harder and its efforts must consider the role of leadership. If the organisational culture of the UN does not improve, the current and future generations of humanitarian actors – people who are genuinely motivated to play a role in shaping the world to reflect equality and justice – will be compelled to do so elsewhere.

---

[1] “A review of climate survey literature reveals a very interesting generalisation. It does not matter when the study is done…it does not matter where the study is done…it does not matter what occupational group is studied…the results are always the same. About 75% of the workforce surveyed will say that the worst single aspect of their job, the most stressful aspect of their job, is their immediate supervisor” (Hogan 2007:106).

Mary Robinson: modern-day charismatic leader

As the first woman President of Ireland and a catalytic United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, Mary Robinson demonstrated the power of charismatic leadership to engender change beyond the formal authority of a position. She uses symbols and verbal communication to articulate her vision for the realisation of human rights for all people.

Born in Ireland in 1944, Mary Robinson became a professor of law at Trinity College and elected to the Irish Senate at 25. She stood twice, unsuccessfully, for the Dáil before resigning from the Labour Party in 1985 in protest of the Anglo-Irish Agreement. In 1990 she accepted the Labour Party’s nomination for the presidential election and won. Although a largely ceremonial role, Robinson believed she could use it to provide a vision for the people of Ireland (Kavanagh 2009).

Prior to being elected as President, Robinson was known as a lawyer and politician at the forefront of some of the most controversial debates in contemporary Irish society (Smyth 1992:62-63), such as the legalisation of contraception for Irish women (Foster 2007:44). Because of her record of successful advocacy for the disadvantaged, Robinson gained the support of the people who “saw in her a person who could deliver a straight, hard-hitting analysis of the…Constitution and legal system” (MacCurtain 1990:674).

In her time as President, Robinson revitalised the office. Her election saw a dramatic shift in her stature as a public figure. Her notoriety reached far beyond the power and aura attached to the office of the President. She was not just the President of Ireland, she was Mary Robinson.

During her term, her popularity rating rose to upwards of 90 percent and stayed there (Edemariam 2010). She did not compromise in order to maintain her popularity – indeed, she remained defiantly radical, becoming the first Irish president to meet Queen Elizabeth II and shaking hands with Gerry Adams in Belfast (Kavanagh 2009).

Charismatic leadership is characterized by its emphasis on transforming the attitudes of followers in conjunction with a vision for the future (Conger et al 2000:752, Bass 1985; Conger and Kanungo 1987; Weber 1978). Mary Robinson’s leadership relied on her ability to energise and reflect the mood of the Irish people. She articulated this when she made her victory speech on election to the presidency:

I must be a President for all the people, but more than that, I want to be a President for all the people. Because I was elected by men and women of all parties and none, by many with great moral courage, who stepped out from the faded flags of the Civil War and voted for a new Ireland, and above all by the women of Ireland, mná na hÉireann, who instead of rocking the cradle, rocked the system and who came out massively to make their mark on the ballot paper and on a new Ireland (Smyth 1992:61).

Mary Robinson’s acceptance speech expressed how well she had come to understand the Irish mind (MacCurtain 1990:673). Her identification with women and with other marginalised groups was a major transformative element in Irish political and social life (Armstrong 1991:74-77).

The 1990s saw dramatic changes to Irish society. They were a time of rapid economic improvement and movement toward a more socially inclusive society (Foster 2007:7; Boyle 2006:xi). Mary Robinson was both the symbol of change in Ireland and a key influencer. She arrived at the right time to lead the people of Ireland through the change they were ready for. “The fact that she won proves that she is an idea whose time has come” (Rule 1990). Her election has been described variously as altering the political landscape of the country, and as a watershed in cultural attitudes (MacCurtain 1990:673).

Robinson is acutely aware of the power of symbols. She believes that if they can bring people together they cease to be symbols and become a mood, something with a momentum of its own (Rule 1990).

Commentator, Ailbhe Smyth noted in 1992 (73), “This new Presidency is very much about creating a mood, a sense of energy, enhancing morale”. Margaret MacCurtain said, “Mary Robinson is a metaphor for change…in what she is…and…what she represents” (Smyth 1992:70-71). Irish women, Smyth said, “have gained a precious sense of energy and inspiration” (Smyth 1992:74).

An essential component of charismatic leadership is the ability to communicate a vision to followers (Conger et al 1997:292). Mary Robinson communicates her vision through extensive writing and scripted and unscripted speech, including her historical victory speech on election to the Presidency: “To all those who have no voice…take heart. There is hope. Look at what you did in this election. You made history. As President, I hope we will make history together” (MacCurtain 1990:673).

Robinson is praised for her oratory style, not only speaking well and inspiring her listeners, but firmly placing the weak and downtrodden at the centre of her rhetoric. “The language was energetic, the verbs are active, the mood transformative…The Object becomes the Subject” (Smyth 1992:62). “There is a quality of mercy in her advocacy, a tone that is reasonable and that carries the listener with her attentively. She is…a splendid orator…concrete, ardent, reach(ing) beyond the clichés of blandness” (MacCurtain 1990:676).

Robinson also communicates with her followers in person. She stresses her willingness to listen and enter into dialogue (Smyth 1992:71), such as when she travelled around Ireland during her election campaign, “in which she listened as much as talked” (Wilson 1991:23). As President, Robinson travelled to Somalia, Bosnia and Rwanda, communicating messages through her presence and describing “with outraged precision” the details of what she witnessed to the international media (Spillane 2001:19).

It was during a trip to Africa that she coined the phrase, “the cycle of impunity” (Williams 2002). Her deep engagement with issues on an intellectual level is a crucial element to who Robinson is as a leader. If cognitive ability and knowledge of the business are what her followers are looking for (Kirkpatrick and Locke 1991), they find plenty in Robinson. She also deliver her messages through masterfully written words (e.g. Robinson 2009; 2006; 1998; 1990).

Mary Robinson’s election was a defining moment for the women’s movement in Ireland, which had been moving towards the great shift that occurred when Robinson was elected. When looking at ‘spellbinders’ of the twentieth century, Ann Ruth Willner found that sources of charisma varied by culture and time, thus explaining why so few women charismatic leaders appear in political history (Nye 2008:57). While Mary Robinson’s election victory was a personal achievement, it was also contingent upon social change that allowed her ascendancy (Smyth 1992:73).

Similarly, Robinson’s achievements as United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights came at a particular moment in the history of the organisation. “The possibility of real change requires the coincidence of a person and particular historical circumstances….She took up the position at a time when a new reforming Secretary General of the United Nations, Kofi Annan, was set to bring human rights into the centre of what the United Nations should stand for” (Boyle 2006:xi).

When Kofi Annan appointed her in 1997, he noted that the position of UN High Commissioner for Human Rights was “not for the faint of heart” (Annan 2006:vii). Charismatic leaders have strong convictions (Nye 2008:55), and Robinson is well known for hers: “One thing I have the ability to do is stand up to bullies” (Edemariam 2010).

Robinson proved resilient to criticism. “Denouncing human rights violations is rarely popular with impugned governments…But (she) spoke out where it was necessary” (Boyle 2006: xvii). It was Robinson’s willingness to speak frankly about human rights violations in the United States and Israel that provoked the Bush administration to strongly oppose the extension of her term as High Commissioner. Bush’s comments have been repeatedly attributed with the end of her tenure (Williams 2002; Edelstein 2003:8).

Reflecting on the experience, Robinson remarked, “I’m prepared to pay the price of taking stands that may not be popular or politically in my best interests. But I came into this job not to keep a job, but to do a job.” (Fahim 2002; Edelstein 2003:8).

An asset of Mary Robinson’s leadership is the public perception of her integrity and determination (Kirkpatrick and Locke 1991) and her track record of winning important battles (Brill 1995:156). Congratulating Robinson on her achievements, Kofi Annan remarked on her ability to engender change as “an official whose power is entirely of the “soft” variety” (Annan 2006:vii).

Charismatic leaders rely on personal and inspirational power resources more than the power than comes from holding an official position of authority (Nye 2008:58). Mary Robinson recognised the potential of soft power and skilfully utilised it to transform both the presidency and the post of High Commissioner for Human Rights from largely ineffective posts to serious, agenda-setting opportunities.

A modern-day example of a charismatic leader, Mary Robinson demonstrates the ability to engender change through the use of soft power and empowers her followers through communication of her vision. Energetic and passionate about human rights, Mary Robinson has become one a handful of global ethical leaders in the Twenty-first century.