It Worked for Me

When Colin Powell addressed world leaders at the United Nations on February 5, 2003, the weight of history rested on his shoulders. As the first African American Secretary of State, his words carried the authority of a nation and the credibility earned through decades of military service. Yet those who knew him best understood that his greatest strength lay not in his titles or achievements, but in the fundamental principles that guided every decision he made throughout his remarkable career.

Powell's journey from a working-class family in the South Bronx to the highest echelons of American power represents more than personal success. It embodies the transformation of both an individual and a nation grappling with questions of race, leadership, and responsibility on the global stage. His story reveals how character is forged through small daily choices, how leadership emerges from genuine care for others, and how wisdom often comes from embracing failure as a teacher rather than an enemy. Through his experiences, we discover timeless lessons about integrity, the power of preparation, and the courage required to stand firm in one's convictions while remaining open to growth and change.

Colin Powell's earliest memories were shaped by the sounds of his parents speaking in their native Jamaican patois and the smell of West Indian cooking wafting through their modest apartment in Harlem. His parents, Luther and Maud Powell, had arrived in New York with little more than determination and an unwavering belief in the promise of America. They worked tirelessly in Manhattan's garment district, instilling in their children the immigrant virtues of hard work, education, and never allowing circumstances to define one's potential.

The young Powell was hardly a model student, earning mediocre grades and showing little direction until he discovered the Reserve Officers' Training Corps at City College of New York. In the structured environment of ROTC, something clicked. The military's emphasis on discipline, teamwork, and clear objectives resonated with him in ways that traditional academics never had. For the first time, he found himself excelling, rising to the rank of cadet colonel and discovering a natural ability to lead others.

His early Army career unfolded during the tumultuous 1960s, as America wrestled with civil rights and the Vietnam War. As one of the few Black officers in the military, Powell navigated the challenges of proving himself in an institution that had only recently begun integrating. He served two tours in Vietnam, experiences that would profoundly shape his understanding of both the terrible costs of war and the sacred responsibility leaders bear for those under their command.

What distinguished Powell from his peers was not just his competence, but his ability to see beyond the immediate tactical situation to understand broader strategic implications. He possessed an unusual combination of intellectual rigor and emotional intelligence, able to analyze complex problems while never losing sight of the human dimension. His rise through the ranks was steady but not meteoric, marked by increasingly challenging assignments that tested both his military acumen and his ability to work across racial and cultural divides.

Throughout his military career, Powell developed what would become known as his "Thirteen Rules" - a collection of practical wisdom gleaned from years of experience leading others through both routine challenges and life-or-death situations. These weren't abstract theories borrowed from business schools, but hard-won insights born from the realities of command. The first rule, "It ain't as bad as you think. It will look better in the morning," reflected his fundamental optimism and understanding that leaders must project confidence even in the darkest moments.

His rules revealed a leadership philosophy grounded in human psychology rather than organizational charts. "Get mad, then get over it" acknowledged that anger is natural but dwelling on it is destructive. "Share credit" recognized that success is always a collective effort, while "Be careful what you choose: you may get it" reminded leaders to think deeply about the consequences of their decisions. Each rule was backed by stories from his own experience, times when he had learned these lessons the hard way.

Powell's approach to leadership was notably pragmatic rather than ideological. He understood that effective leaders must be simultaneously demanding and compassionate, holding people accountable while also providing them with the support and resources they need to succeed. His rule "Don't let adverse facts stand in the way of a good decision" didn't advocate ignoring reality, but rather emphasized the importance of judgment and instinct when perfect information is unavailable.

What made these rules particularly powerful was their universality. While born from military experience, they applied equally to corporate boardrooms, non-profit organizations, and family situations. Powell had distilled leadership to its essential elements: clarity of purpose, genuine care for others, personal integrity, and the courage to make difficult decisions when necessary.

At the heart of Powell's leadership philosophy lay an unwavering commitment to the welfare of those he led. This principle, which he often summarized as "take care of the troops," went far beyond ensuring adequate supplies and equipment. It meant understanding each person as an individual, recognizing their strengths and weaknesses, and creating conditions where they could perform at their best while growing as both professionals and human beings.

Powell's approach to building trust was methodical and intentional. He made it a practice to know the names, backgrounds, and personal circumstances of those under his command, maintaining detailed notes about their families, career aspirations, and challenges. This wasn't mere technique but genuine interest in others as complete human beings. He understood that trust flows both directions - leaders must demonstrate their trustworthiness through consistent actions while also showing that they trust their subordinates with meaningful responsibilities.

His management style emphasized delegation and empowerment rather than micromanagement. When he became Secretary of State, he shocked the foreign policy establishment by allowing junior desk officers to brief the President directly, bypassing the traditional hierarchy. This wasn't recklessness but calculated confidence in his people's abilities, combined with an understanding that those closest to the details often have the best insights. He created an environment where people felt safe to bring him problems early, knowing they wouldn't be punished for bad news.

The trust Powell built proved invaluable during crises. When difficult decisions had to be made quickly, his subordinates executed them without hesitation because they understood his judgment and knew he had their interests at heart. They also felt comfortable challenging his thinking when they disagreed, creating the kind of intellectual honesty that produces better decisions. This mutual trust became a force multiplier, enabling organizations to respond more quickly and effectively than rigid hierarchical structures typically allow.

When Powell assumed leadership of the State Department in 2001, he inherited an organization struggling to adapt to the information revolution. Embassies around the world were operating with outdated technology, some still using Wang computers from a company that had been bankrupt for years. The department's inability to keep pace with technological change wasn't just an inconvenience - it was crippling America's ability to engage effectively in global affairs where information moved at the speed of light.

Powell approached this challenge with the same methodical determination he had applied to military problems throughout his career. Rather than accepting incremental improvements, he demanded comprehensive transformation. Within two years, every embassy and every office had Internet-connected computers, dramatically expanding the department's ability to gather information, coordinate responses, and communicate with the American people about foreign policy initiatives.

The technology upgrade was only part of the solution. Powell recognized that the real challenge was changing mindsets - what he called "brainware" rather than hardware. Many career diplomats had grown comfortable with the slower pace of traditional diplomacy, where cables took hours to compose and days to receive responses. The new environment demanded real-time thinking and immediate responses to rapidly evolving situations around the world.

His own adaptation to digital communication became a model for others. Powell began using email extensively to communicate directly with ambassadors worldwide, breaking down traditional hierarchies and enabling faster, more flexible responses to emerging crises. He understood that in the modern world, the ability to process information quickly and communicate clearly had become as important as traditional diplomatic skills. This digital transformation would prove crucial as the department grappled with the challenges of post-9/11 diplomacy and the complexities of managing relationships in an increasingly connected world.

Powell's most defining moment as Secretary of State came with his February 2003 presentation to the United Nations, where he laid out the case for military action against Iraq based on intelligence about weapons of mass destruction that later proved to be wrong. The speech, watched by millions worldwide, became what he later called a "blot" on his record when no such weapons were found after the invasion. His response to this failure revealed perhaps more about his character than any of his successes.

Rather than deflecting blame or making excuses, Powell took full responsibility for the flawed presentation while also working to understand how the intelligence community had reached such incorrect conclusions. He refused to engage in public finger-pointing or bitter recriminations, instead focusing on the lessons that could be learned to prevent similar failures in the future. This response exemplified his belief that leaders must own their decisions completely, even when those decisions are based on information that later proves inaccurate.

The Iraq experience reinforced Powell's long-held conviction about the importance of the "Pottery Barn Rule" - if you break it, you own it. He had argued privately for more careful consideration of post-war planning and the long-term consequences of military action, understanding that winning a war was often easier than winning the peace that followed. The difficulties that ensued validated his concerns about the complexities of nation-building and the importance of thinking through all phases of military operations.

Powell's ability to learn from both success and failure stemmed from his fundamental intellectual humility. Despite achieving the highest levels of success in multiple careers, he remained genuinely curious about different perspectives and willing to acknowledge when his initial assumptions proved wrong. This openness to growth and change, combined with his willingness to accept responsibility for outcomes, provided a model for how leaders can maintain their integrity and effectiveness even after significant setbacks.

Colin Powell's life demonstrates that true leadership emerges not from perfection, but from the consistent application of fundamental principles even in the face of uncertainty and failure. His journey from the South Bronx to the halls of power illustrates how character, competence, and genuine care for others can overcome any obstacle and create lasting positive change in the world.

The enduring relevance of Powell's example lies in his understanding that leadership is ultimately about service to others rather than personal advancement. His thirteen rules, his commitment to taking care of people, and his graceful handling of both triumph and failure offer a timeless blueprint for anyone seeking to lead with integrity and effectiveness. In an era of rapid change and complex challenges, his emphasis on fundamental human values and principled decision-making provides a steady compass for navigating uncertainty while maintaining one's moral bearings.