“Practical wisdom,” Aristotle told us, “is the combination of moral will and moral skill.” A wise person knows when and how to make the exception to every rule, as the janitors knew when to ignore the job duties in the service of other objectives. A wise person knows how to improvise,as Luke did when he re-washed the floor. Real-world problems are often ambiguous and ill-defined and the context is always changing. A wise person is like a jazz musician — using the notes on the page, but dancing around them, inventing combinations that are appropriate for the situation and the people at hand. A wise person knows how to use these moral skills in the service of the right aims. To serve other people, not to manipulate other people. And finally, perhaps most important, a wise person is made, not born. Wisdom depends on experience, and not just any experience. You need the time to get to know the people that you’re serving. You need permission to be allowed to improvise, try new things, occasionally to fail and to learn from your failures. And you need to be mentored by wise teachers.”

Obama tells us that we can have quality, universal health care without increasing the deficit. He tells us that he intends to have the 9/11 detainees given a fair trial in a civilian court but assures us that the trials will end in convictions. He declares that he will wage war in Afghanistan, but pledges to start bringing the troops home in 18 months. And everybody nevertheless takes these contradictory, irreconcilable statements seriously, as they parse, analyze, scrutinize Obama’s every word for some kind of coherent meaning. The president is like the character Chance in the novel and movie Being There, whose every fatuous utterance was celebrated for its profundity.

Some of Obama’s defenders chastise his exasperated listeners for their inability to detect the president’s “complexity.” But a fantasy of universal popularity that panders to every conflicting interest simultaneously is not the same thing as “complexity.” It is complexity if I tell my wife that I have to move to another state where I know I can find work, but that I realize the strain it will put on our marriage, and that I know the effect it will have on our child, and that I am aware of the consequences of such an attempt if I don’t find a job, having spent so much money on moving and establishing myself in a new place. It is not complexity if I tell my wife that I have to move to another state where I know I can find work, but that I will be back next week, and with lots of money.

In the spirit of full disclosure, my caution is based on two points.  The first is that I was and largely still am an Obama supporter (though I fully admit my reasons may not be rational).  The second is that I made a promise to myself that I would stop writing political screeds. So why this?

I have been reading for the second time a book on decision making called The Paradox of Choice by Barry Schwartz.

The Paradox of Choice

Barry Schwartz. Harper Perennial 2005, Paperback, 304 pages, $4.81

It’s not my favorite book on decision making though it and he have certainly enjoyed a lot of attention for a “perfect for the times” message that can best me summed up by the B-Head for his book:  How the Culture of Abundance Robs Us of Satisfaction.

Schwartz quotes a considerable amount of research to make the case that:

• An over-abundance of choices ultimately leads to confusion, poor decision making, and dissatisfaction with the decision once it is made.
• The more we are forced to justify our choice, the more dissatisfied we become with our choice.
• The reasons people give for making a choice are seldom the real reaons.
• The more people are forced to make trade-offs, the lower the satisfaction with the choice ultimately made.  Worse, the stress of making difficult trade-offs leads to low quality decision making.

Or to put it another way.  Many of us fancy that we are rational decision makers, or at least we can be on-demand when we must be.  The implication here is that we can, on an as needed basis, turn off our biology, our socialization, the mental short cuts, and the internal angels and demons we haul with us and simply add up the plusses and minuses or review the numbers and make the obvious right choice.  That’s a big ask.

That’s not to say that we can’t wrangle our emotions and engineers ourselves past many decision traps becuase we can.  It is to say that we don’t stop being human through the process. So if we believe Schwartz, and I do, many of us are left looking for paths through irreconcilable differences that often don’t exist, not becuase the facts support such a notion, but becuase we believe in Santa Claus.

I have never met the current or previous president but it seems plausible from afar that one of their many differences is that 43 didn’t appear to agonize and certainly had no visible regrets.  The same can be said for Cheney and Rumsfeld (though not Powell).  Critics of the three would say that one of the reasons that’s true is that they didn’t bother to consider alternatives that conflicted with what they had already decided to do.  If that is in fact an accurate accusation, it makes them no different than most of us (hard as that is for my liberal friends to hear).

Conversely, President Obama appears to pride himself on his thoughtful, inclusive, and complete decision making processes.  As a decision engineer, I heartily applaud his instincts and his practices.  But listening to his recent address at West Point about Afghanistan I am left wondering if Barry Schwartz doesn’t have his number: That at the end of the day, Mr. Obama hates making trade-offs and therefore makes others do it for him.

If that is true, it makes Obama like the rest of us as well.  It is also leadership sin number one: Forcing people below your pay grade to make the tough trade-offs you’re paid to make.