General Colin Powell Quotes

Retired general Colin Powell famously advocates collecting half of the information available, then making a decision, even though your information is clearly incomplete.

In his latest book, General Colin Powell explains that his vision of leadership rejects “busy bastards” who put in long hours at the office without realizing the impact they have on their staff.

Hardy reinforces his narrative with stories of heroes who didn’t have the right education, the right connections, and who could have been counted out early as not having the DNA for success: “Richard Branson has dyslexia and had poor academic performance as a student. Steve Jobs was born to two college students who didn’t want to raise him and gave him up for adoption. Mark Cuban was born to an automobile upholsterer. He started as a bartender, then got a job in software sales from which he was fired.”8 The list goes on. Hardy reminds his readers that “Suze Orman’s dad was a chicken farmer. Retired General Colin Powell was a solid C student. Howard Schultz, the CEO of Starbucks, was born in a housing authority in the Bronx … Barbara Corcoran started as a waitress and admits to being fired from more jobs than most people hold in a lifetime. Pete Cashmore, the CEO of Mashable, was sickly as a child and finished high school two years late due to medical complications. He never went to college.” What do each of these inspiring leaders and storytellers have in common? They rewrote their own internal narratives and found great success. “The biographies of all heroes contain common elements. Becoming one is the most important,”9 writes Chris Matthews in Jack Kennedy, Elusive Hero. Matthews reminds his readers that young John F. Kennedy was a sickly child and bedridden for much of his youth. And what did he do while setting school records for being in the infirmary? He read voraciously. He read the stories of heroes in the pages of books by Sir Walter Scott and the tales of King Arthur. He read, and dreamed of playing the hero in the story of his life. When the time came to take the stage, Jack was ready.

As a traditionalist, I didn’t carry an umbrella, even in the face of a darkening sky, and by the time we reached the reception, we were drenched. As it dried, my uniform began shrinking around my arms and legs. I sensed an uncomfortable tension from the tightening fabric, and when a button on my chest actually popped, I felt absurdly like the Incredible Hulk in the early 1980s TV show. I tried to melt into the crowd, but too late. General Colin Powell, of all people, resplendent in his dry dress Army service uniform, spotted me, smiled, and with obvious joy and great zeal, launched into a public razzing about Air Force uniforms and dress standards. It took my bruised ego several months to recover.

But the wonderful thing about our democratic system is that anyone can jump in regardless of qualifications and present himself or herself to the American people, whether you are a former general, a former politician, a fool, or whatever. Quoted in The NPR Interviews 1996, edited by Robert Siegal

One night back in the 1970s, I was driving home to my quarters at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, where I had commanded the 2nd Brigade of the 101st Airborne Division for about a year, when I saw in the dark a soldier walking along the road heading for the gate. He probably lived with his wife in the trailer park just outside the gate. I stopped and offered him a ride. “Why are you going home so late?” I asked him as we drove along. “My buddies and I’ve been working hard to get ready for an inspector general inspection coming up,” he answered. Then he looked at me. “Sir, who are you?” he asked. “I’m your brigade commander,” I told him, taken aback. “How long have you been in command?” he asked. “Over a year,” I said. “Is it a good job?” he asked. “Yes, great,” I replied. Jeez, after a year of being all over the brigade area, here is a soldier who doesn’t recognize me. Something’s wrong. “How do you think you guys will do in the inspection?” I then asked. “We’ll do great,” he answered. “We’ve been working hard for weeks, and my captain, lieutenants, and sergeants have been pushing us. They’ve been telling us how important the inspection is; they’ve been working just as hard as we have.” Then he said simply, “We’re not going to let them down.

Late that year, one of the soldiers stationed at the prison [Abu Ghraib] reported the abuses to his superiors and said that photos had been taken by the abusers. The commanders in Iraq immediately took action and took steps to launch an investigation. Soon after that the news reached Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld and General Richard Myers, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who told President Bush in early January 2004 that incidents at Abu Ghraib were being looked into. It seems nobody told these senior leaders that these incidents were truly horrendous.

An ADC is a division commander on training wheels. By Army custom, I was at Fort Carson to soak up the skills and mores for division leadership. Some commanding generals are happy to delegate broadly to their ADCs while they sit back and watch. Hudachek stood at the other end of the continuum. I had a sense that he would have been just as happy if his two ADCs disappeared. He ran the division, and we were permitted to study at the master’s knee. Which did not make what I set out to do any easier—or wiser.

I only go through life looking through the front windshield, not the back or side view mirror.