"Whatever
the type, there is a deep-seated craving common to almost all men of words
which determines their attitude to the prevailing order. It is a craving
for recognition; a craving for a clearly marked status above the common
run of humanity."
"...the
majority of people cannot endure the barrenness and futility of their
lives unless they have some ardent dedication, or some passionate pursuit
in which they can lose themselves."
--
Eric Hoffer, The True Believer
The true
believer, Hoffer tells us, is a frustrated, self-loath
ing individual who
compensates for a weak identity by finding some crusade to invest himself in. The mass movement is
perfect for such persons: it "appeals not to those intent on
bolstering and advancing a cherished self, but to those who crave to be
rid of an unwanted self. A mass movement attracts and holds a following
not because it can satisfy the desire for self-advancement, but because it
can satisfy the passion for self-renunciation."
It is
characteristic of weak selves to see power and liveliness "out
there" in the world rather than within. "I am nothing,"
they say, "but the forces that shape people's lives are
everything." Hoffer offers a wonderful line from Thoreau: "If
anything ail (sic) a man, so that he does not perform his functions...he
forthwith sets about reforming -- the world."
Mass movements
can be good or bad, wholesome or destructive, but they all "generate in
their adherents a readiness to die and a proclivity for united action; all
of them, irrespective of the doctrine they preach and the program they
project, breed fanaticism, enthusiasm, fervent hope, hatred and
intolerance...all of them demand blind faith and singlehearted
allegiance."
Though
written some fifty years ago, The True Believer has much to offer a world that
still teems with religious fanatics, super-patriots, and the rigid and
dogmatic of all stripes. It also offers insight into those Hoffer calls
the "men of words." These are intellectuals, scribes,
professors, orators -- anyone at all who enjoys a facility for language
who is able to rouse popular sentiment and prey upon the anger,
insecurities, and confusion of the masses.
The
"men of words" are not themselves true believers. They are not
the kind to lead a bloody coup, or to sustain a mass
movement over any length of time, or to repose absolute faith in any dogma or
creed. What influence they wield is a function of where they happen to stand in
relation to power. What they crave most is recognition and approbation. If
lauded and embraced by power, they tend to cultivate a sympathy for the strong
against the weak; if excluded, ignored or calumnied, their sympathies
become more ardent and demotic.
The passages
below expand upon this point. Hoffer's genius lies in treating behavior as
the mirror of the psyche, reflecting either wounded or vibrant
selves.
"Mass
movements do not usually rise until the prevailing order has been
discredited. The discrediting is not an automatic result of the blunders
and abuses of those in power, but the deliberate work of men of words with
a grievance...
"The
preliminary work of undermining existing institutions, of familiarizing
the masses with the idea of change, and of creating a receptivity to a new
faith, can be done only by men who are, first and foremost, talkers or
writers and are recognized as such by all. As long as the existing order
functions in a more or less orderly fashion, the masses remain basically
conservative. They can think of reform but not of total innovation. The
fanatical extremist, no matter how eloquent, strikes them as dangerous,
traitorous, impractical or even insane. They will not listen to him...
"The
division between men of words, fanatics and practical men of action...is
not meant to be categorical. Men like Gandhi and Trotsky start out as
apparently ineffectual men of words and later display exceptional talents
as administrators or generals. A man like Mohammed starts out as a man of
words, develops into an implacable fanatic and finally reveals a superb
practical sense. A fanatic like Lenin is a master of the spoken word, and
unequaled as a man of action. What the classification attempts to suggest
is that the readying of the ground for a mass movement is done best by men
whose chief claim to excellence is their skill in the use of the spoken or
written word; that the hatching of an actual movement requires the
temperament and the talents of the fanatic; and that the final
consolidation of the movement is largely the work of practical men of
action...
"The
men of words are of diverse types. They can be priests, scribes, prophets,
writers, artists, professors, students and intellectuals in general...
"Whatever
the type, there is a deep-seated craving common to almost all men of words
which determines their attitude to the prevailing order. It is a craving
for recognition; a craving for a clearly marked status above the common
run of humanity. 'Vanity,' said Napoleon, 'made the Revolution; liberty
was only a pretext.' There is apparently an irremediable insecurity at the
core of every intellectual, be he noncreative or creative. Even the most
gifted and prolific seem to live a life of eternal self-doubting and have
to prove their worth anew each day. What de Remusat said of Thiers is
perhaps true of most men of words: 'he has much more vanity than ambition;
and he prefers consideration to obedience, and the appearance of power to
power itself. Consult him constantly, and then do just as you please. He
will take more notice of your deference to him than of your actions.'
"There
is a moment in the career of almost every fault-finding man of words when
a deferential or conciliatory gesture from those in power may win him over
to their side. At a certain stage, most men of words are ready to become
timeservers and courtiers...
"However
much the protesting man of words sees himself as the champion of the
downtrodden and injured, the grievance which animates him is, with very
few exceptions, private and personal. His pity is usually hatched out of
his hatred for the powers that be. 'It is only a few rare and exceptional
men who have that kind of love toward mankind at large that makes them
unable to endure patiently the general mass of evil and suffering,
regardless of any relation it may have to their own lives.' [This is a
quote from Bertrand Russell's Proposed Roads to Freedom --
ed.] Thoreau states the fact with fierce extravagance: 'I believe
that what so saddens the reformer is not his sympathy with his fellows in
distress, but, though he be the holiest son of God, is his private ail.
Let this be righted...and he will forsake his generous companions without
apology.' When his superior status is suitably acknowledged by those
in power, the man of words usually finds all kinds of lofty reasons for
siding with the strong against the weak. A Luther, who, when first defying
the established church, spoke feelingly of 'the poor, simple, common
folk,' proclaimed later, when allied with German princelings, that 'God
would prefer to suffer the government to exist no matter how evil, rather
than to allow the rabble to riot, no matter how justified they are in
doing so.' A Burke patronized by lords and nobles spoke of the
'swinish multitude' and recommended to the poor 'patience, labor,
sobriety, frugality, and religion.' The pampered and flattered men of
words in Nazi Germany and Bolshevik Russia feel no impulsion to side with
the persecuted and terrorized against the ruthless leaders and their
secret police.
"Where
all learned men are clergymen, the church is unassailable. Where all
learned men are bureaucrats or where education gives a man an acknowledged
superior status, the prevailing order is likely to be free from movements
of protest.
"The
Catholic Church sank to its lowest level in the tenth century, at the time
of Pope John XII. It was then far more corrupt and ineffectual than at the
time of the Reformation. But in the tenth century all learned men were
priests, whereas in the fifteenth century, as the result of the
introduction of printing and paper, learning had ceased to be the monopoly
of the church. It was the nonclerical humanists who formed the vanguard of
the Reformation. Those of the scholars affiliated with the church or who,
as in Italy, enjoyed the patronage of the Popes, 'showed a tolerant spirit
on the whole toward existing institutions, including the ecclesiastical
abuses, and, in general, cared little how long the vulgar herd was left in
superstitious darkness which befitted their state.' ...
"When we
debunk a fanatical faith or prejudice, we do not strike at the root of
fanaticism. We merely prevent its leaking out at a certain point, with the
likely result that it will leak out at some other point. Thus by
denigrating prevailing beliefs and loyalties, the militant man of words
unwittingly creates in the disillusioned masses a hunger for faith. For
the majority of people cannot endure the barrenness and futility of their
lives unless they have some ardent dedication, or some passionate pursuit
in which they can lose themselves. Thus, in spite of himself, the scoffing
man of words becomes the precursor of a new faith.
"The
genuine man of words himself can get along without faith in absolutes. He
values the search for truth as much as truth itself. He delights in the
clash of thought and in the give-and-take of controversy. If he formulates
a philosophy and a doctrine, they are more an exhibition of brilliance and
an exercise in dialectics than a program of action and the tenets of a
faith. His vanity, it is true, often prompts him to defend his
speculations with savagery and even venom; but his appeal is usually to
reason and not to faith. The fanatics and the faith-hungry masses,
however, are likely to invest such speculations with the certitude of holy
writ, and make them the fountainhead of a new faith. Jesus was not a
Christian, nor was Marx a Marxist."
Businessmen like 
Then we have the Richard Branson’s of the world. In a column for Entrepreneur Magazine titled “
