Like Manchester, he realized that people will do unreasonable things to come through—not for grand ideas or incentives or bosses or hierarchies or even recognition, but for each other. Smith came away from his Vietnam experience with an increased faith that if you start with basic respect for people, and you show trust by putting them in situations where they have to come through because others depend on them, they’ll summon whatever it takes to achieve the mission.

Thus, while those who are very wealthy like to believe that they are worthy of the financial rewards they have accrued, many poorer people don’t want to mess with the dream that they too might achieve such riches if only they work hard enough. For them to concede that perhaps the system was stacked against them—that money had become far better at begetting more money than working long hard shifts—would be tantamount to abandoning their sense of agency and their cherished beliefs that what made their countries different was that anyone who worked hard enough could be whatever they wished to be.

Johnson and Nixon both enjoyed great power, yet still they overrated that power. They believed they could engineer a Great Society or world peace when in reality they were muddling through. They overestimated their authority, and imagining they were able to control their environment, failed to perceive how far their actions were constrained by their current realities. Having translated their high-level objectives into goals and actions, they became fixated on these goals and actions, even when the search for them had come to jeopardise rather than sustain their higher level objectives.

Dag Hammarskjold, past Secretary-General of the United Nations, once made a profound, far-reaching statement: “It is more noble to give yourself completely to one individual than to labor diligently for the salvation of the masses.” I take that to mean that I could devote eight, ten, or twelve hours a day, five, six, or seven days a week to the thousands of people and projects “out there” and still not have a deep, meaningful relationship with my own spouse, with my own teenage son, with my closest working associate. And it would take more nobility of character—more humility, courage, and strength—to rebuild that one relationship than it would to continue putting in all those hours for all those people and causes. In twenty-five years of consulting with organizations, I have been impressed over and over again by the power of that statement. Many of the problems in organizations stem from relationship difficulties at the very top—between two partners in a professional firm, between the owner and the president of a company, between the president and an executive vice-president. It truly takes more nobility of character to confront and resolve those issues than it does to continue to diligently work for the many projects and people “out there.

As the United States lost its enthusiasm for engineers, China embraced engineering in all its dimensions. Its leaders aren’t only civil or electrical engineers. They are, fundamentally, social engineers. Emperors didn’t hesitate to entirely restructure a person's relationship to the land, ordering mass migration into newly opened territories and conscripting the people to build great walls or grand canals. Modern rulers are here, too, far more ambitious than the emperors of the past. The Soviet Union inspired many of Beijing’s leaders with a love of heavy industry and an enthusiasm to become engineers of the soul— a phrase from Joseph Staling repeated by Xi Jinping— heaving China’s population into modernity and then some.