Virgin Schemer vs Chad Knight

The Very Different Approaches of Robert Greene and William the Marshal

Who’s a better guide to success in this life—the guru who has studied the dark arts of power, or the simple, honest, and true knight?

With books like The 48 Laws of Power, Robert Greene established a humorous little racket in purporting to teach modern men—sons of accountants and middle managers—to be cunning schemers. This book offers a well-researched and thoroughly amoral trove of insights and pointers drawn from Thucydides, Sun-tzu, and Machiavelli, from the lives of courtesans, con men, and generals, those masters of “seduction, charm, deception, and subtle strategy, always planning several moves ahead.” Some of his most shameless laws include “14: Pose as a friend, work as a spy,” “17: Keep others in suspended terror: cultivate an air of unpredictability,” and “33: Discover each man's thumbscrew.” Either you play the game of power, Greene says, or you get played.

The History of William the Marshal suggests a different model.

Perhaps the greatest knight who ever lived, William rose from modest origins (the 4th son of a middling aristocrat) to become the 1st Earl of Pembroke and one of the most powerful men in England, serving five Plantagenet kings, knighting two of them, and taking the guardianship of young Henry III after his father’s death. In his leisure time he dominated the tournament circuit like few ever have, making himself into a legend of prowess. It’s hard to imagine a more meteoric rise in the medieval world than his.

And though his success equaled that of any of the operators chronicled by Greene, William was no operator. He was an anti-operator. He was instead a model of frankness, loyalty, and generosity. He treated others well, kept his word, and served with distinction and honor, and in return good men trusted him and came to his aid when he needed it. In one exchange with his lord’s creditors, William informed them that Henry the Young King wasn’t carrying enough money to pay them, but that they’d have their payment within the month. They responded: “Truly, if the Marshall gives his guarantee we're not worried at all—it’s as good as being paid!”

Such a man makes himself indispensable. In the words of Nigel Bryant:

Marshal was valued and successful at court precisely because he did not scheme, was not obsequious, was not one of the flattering, manipulative, self-seeking “losengiers” who abounded. Not only did he stand out as an exceptional, daunting warrior whom anyone would want on his side […]; at court he stood out because of his striking—and positively strange—honesty and frank directness, qualities which made him an invaluable counselor.

William faced off against many envious men, those like Greene’s model intriguers. Or rather they faced off against him. One attempt to undermine the Marshall involved indecent rumors about him and the Henry the Young King’s wife, and they were made with some effect; William was forced to leave the Young King’s service for a time. But Greenean strategy didn’t prevail: Henry came to his senses and realized that William was far too good a man to ever betray him thus. William was restored in his good graces, and those who worked against him did not come to a good end.

King John also schemed against William the Marshal (which is ironic because William was almost single-handedly responsible for making the man king when there was some controversy over who should succeed Richard I). John had granted William permission to pay homage to the French king for William’s continental lands, which John in his incompetence had lost for England—only to then accuse William of treason for doing what he had given him permission to do! William insisted on his innocence and truthfulness, and everyone knew he was right, including John. Ultimately, not even the maniacal King of England could touch the Marshal.

Implications

There’s something disturbingly small about Greene’s stratagems. He would have us be simps for strategy rather than excellent men. Going further, Greene would also likely deny the accounts of William’s virtues—mediocrity must attempt to debunk excellence.

Even on Greene’s own terms, the path of the schemer is dubious, requiring not just a great deal of hubris but also at least as much naïveté. It seems clear enough to me that William’s method is the surer one. There’s a beautiful poetic simplicity about it. You don’t have to keep your lies straight, track your allies and foes, arrange the metaphorical chessboard, anticipate the responses to your machinations and the responses to your responses; you simply do the right thing and build a reputation for goodness.

As I stated in the beginning, the concern here is with the practical—which methods work, here and now. The older I get, however, the more I suspect that considerations of practicality are always tied to moral and spiritual realities. Greene’s strategy falters because it’s morally and spiritually questionable; William’s prevails because it is morally and spiritually superior. Consider: no matter how good an operator one is, there will always be better ones. I have in mind the demonic forces who will co-opt your schemes to their purposes, as you invite them to do when you play with fire. The Marshal’s approach, meanwhile, asserts that a benevolent God presides over the universe, and despite the temporary fortunes an evil man might lay his hands on, in the long run such his schemes don’t triumph. The dark arts curse those who try to cultivate them, while virtue does the opposite.

We don’t need to overthink this. Be good and good things will follow—not only in the next life, but very likely in this world too. It’s our best chance.