Eric Hoffer

 

Eric Hoffer

I ‘ve always enjoyed living vicariously. It started when I was a child. I was surrounded by fascinating, almost magical people. Maybe all children see adults this way, but I felt a sense of excitement around my aunts and uncles. They were funny; they told exciting stories, and they -especially my aunts- had a way of making a little boy feel special. When they all got together I was spellbound listening to them reminisce and talk about who they had known and what they had done. One of my uncles was a lawyer and judge, another was a construction worker who had worked all over the world. And that was just my mother’s family. My dad didn’t talk much, but he actually told the best stories, about growing up on the farm, about his experiences as a tough kid, and as a high school and college athlete. After I retired I got to spend hours listening to my mother’s recollections about her life and her family, some of which I included in the book, Wenonah’s Story. 

I’ve always sought out and valued friends that I admired: my wise cousin I’ve mentioned before, my best friend from childhood, my partner in medical practice. 

I’ve always enjoyed reading, and am usually in the middle of one book or several. I enjoy fantasizing about fictional characters who are able to do amazing things, but also historical figures. I know now that real events and real people are more amazing than anything a fiction writer can imagine. 

Reading a book by an amazing person makes you feel on a level with them, as if reading about their adventures and understanding their thoughts somehow allows you to share their experiences and possess in a small way their ideas. 

I’ve recently been rereading a little book by one of my heroes, Eric Hoffer.  His ideas are pretty universal, but they seem especially relevant in today’s political climate. 

Hoffer spent much of his life as a tramp, riding on boxcars from one place to another doing odd jobs to make money to live. After being turned down for military service during WWII, he went to work as a longshoreman on the docks of San Francisco where he spent the next 20 years. Hoffer was self taught and was an avid reader and learner all his life. Every place he went, he got library cards and spent most of his time in libraries reading whatever interested him. He told the story that once he was working at a nursery repotting plants. He began to wonder why the roots grew down and the stems grew up, so he quit his job, hopped on a boxcar and headed for the nearest town with a library where he checked out a book on botany. 

At one point Hoffer decided to mine for gold. He took with him a book by the French philosopher, Michel de Montaigne, which he read and reread. Later, when he returned to his itinerant lifestyle, he would frequently quote Montaigne in discussions with other vagrants, so much that they would often ask him, “what does Montaigne have to say about that?” He said, “I always believed that there must be several hundred hobos up and down San Joaquin Valley still quoting Montaigne.” 

It was when he settled down near the docks in San Francisco that he began to write seriously. He would work on the docks for a few weeks and then write until he ran out of money. When he received a telegram from Harper’s accepting his first book, The True Believer, Thoughts on the Nature of Mass Movements, he threw the little yellow paper away thinking it was an ad. He said, “I never had a telegram in my life.” 

The True Believer was published in 1951 and became a best seller in 1956 when President Eisenhower mentioned Hoffer as his favorite author. Hoffer wrote ten books as well as numerous articles and memoirs. He was consulted by several presidents on national affairs; he received several honorary doctorates, was made an adjunct professor at UC Berkeley, and in 1983 was awarded the Medal of Freedom by President Ronald Reagan. 

Eric Hoffer was obviously a genius, but I think he stands out even among geniuses. How many great men are totally self taught, refuse wealth, and become recognized as one of the great thinkers of their time? 

Like I said before, Eric Hoffer is one of my heroes, and I thought I should give a little background about him in case I want to refer to some of his ideas in future posts.

 

https://www.hoover.org/research/eric-hoffer-genius-and-enigma

What’s Trump’s secret? Is it Charisma?

 

Jesus Christ

The first I can remember witnessing the power of charisma was as a teenager. I was attending a summer camp for young musicians sponsored by the Musician’s Union. One evening I was sitting in the dining hall after our evening meal just listening to people talk. I noticed a handful of people, probably a half dozen, clustered around a man – he was older than most of us at the camp. I can’t remember what he was talking about, but what impressed me was the rapt attention he was getting from his audience. Something about his delivery, his manner, his status, something was having an almost hypnotic effect on them. 

Since then I’ve observed this power, call it charisma for lack of a better word, several times.  It’s usually been in teachers. One in particular comes to mind. It was our neuroanatomy teacher in medical school. A more boring subject you couldn’t imagine, but Dr. Daron – that was his name – was so logical, and his presentations flowed so easily from one subject to another, that he was fascinating. He made a difficult, complicated subject seem simple. He got the award for the best teacher several times if I remember right. 

An interesting thing about Dr. Daron’s lectures was that he made neuroanatomy seem so simple that I was tempted not to take notes. As a result, when I began to study the material he had covered, I found that I didn’t remember what he had said in his lecture. I was so fascinated by his presentation, his charisma, that I sometimes forgot what he actually said. 

I’ve always admired good speakers. I have trouble holding an audience’s attention myself, but I come from a family of lawyers and politicians, so even though I didn’t inherit the speaking gene, I have witnessed good speaking all my life. My mother was my first example. 

She used to give me a lecture every time I did something wrong, and her lecture would usually culminate in a ‘whuppin.’ I think that’s how she built up her resolve before she administered my punishment. 

These lectures put me in a state of panic since I knew what was coming, but even so, I used to admire how persuasive she was. She almost convinced me I needed a whipping. She had the family gene for speaking. I used to think to myself that if she had been a man she’d probably have been elected governor. 

I’ve discussed my admiration for good speakers with my wise cousin Steve, and he disagrees. He thinks that a clever, convincing speaker clouds an issue. It’s important to make judgements based on fact, and one should remain open minded, check facts, and always listen to opinions on both sides of an issue. It’s analogous to his views about businessmen. He says “don’t trust a ‘good businessman,” and likewise, “don’t trust a good speaker.” His mother had the speaking gene too, by the way. Maybe he just didn’t get as many whippins as I did. 

There are different uses of charisma. They vary from just giving a fascinating lecture, like my neuroanatomy professor or my mother,  to convincing people to change their lives, like the leader of a cult. Recently I have noticed that the Republican party has taken on some of the attributes of a cult. They follow their leader without question, even if he changes his policies, or even lies to them. They’re even willing to break the law – many have gone to jail – to support their leader. 

That led me to conclude that Donald Trump must be charismatic. It seems that all great political leaders have been charismatic:  Lincoln, FDR, John F Kennedy. But then I listened carefully to some of his speeches, and he’s not charismatic at all. His speeches have no continuity. They don’t focus his listener’s attention on certain phrases or ideas. They don’t build up to a climax. His speeches are rambling. He contradicts himself. He emphasizes trivial, petty issues like Obama’s birth or Harris’ race. He’s really not a good speaker.   

I compared Trump’s speeches with Harris’ and discovered that it’s her speeches that are charismatic. She commands your attention with a simple statement that most can identify with, like “we’re fighting for the middle class.” Then she systematically tics off the ways she will accomplish her goals, and contrasts that with Trump’s record. And she repeats catch phrases like “Trump only cares about himself,” or “we’re not going back.” Her speeches slow smoothly from one topic to the next, and she builds up to one climax after another, holding your attention. 

So if Trump is not charismatic, how is it that he has gotten control of the Republican party, and the support of half the country? 

To be continued.