Wealth of Nations
Adam Smith’s magnum opus of economics may not be suitable for light lunchtime reading, but its epic heft belies its accessibility. In fact, Smith, one of the greatest thinkers of his time or any other, somehow manages everyday parallels, many of which, despite an eighteenth-century viewpoint, still apply today.
Exhaustive in scope, he goes from micro to macro, globalization to taxes, never losing focus or steam. Actually, the true bulk here comes from the blow-by-blow bombardment of facts—seemingly anytime, anywhere that money has changed hands in modern capitalistic society, Smith has it in perspective.
No matter the industry, or level on the corporate totem pole, there is something here for any reader who thinks about why and where they go to work each day. Now-commonplace phrases like “invisible hand” and “self-interest” may echo from a distant high school history class, but the relevance of these, and others, is still unquestionable in everyone’s nine-to-five world.
The Origin of Species
Few books throughout history continue to prove such an intellectual nuisance as The Origin of Species. Once highly controversial in terms of scientific thought and human nature, Darwin’s masterpiece now finds its way into a discussion of business classics. In fact, much can be made of the change in the way the book has been received over time: it’s almost as if the conclusions of natural selection—less complexity ceding to more—are demonstrated in the public’s perception of the work.
Offering sweeping conclusions on humankind’s interaction with the environment, this seminal work, when whittled down, can also act as a playbook of business push-and-pulls: “Struggle for Existence” is every start-up business; “Instinct” embodies every consumer.
Give Darwin a pass for his non-PC portions and ignore the historical baggage attached. At its core, The Origin of Species is a surprisingly readable, singularly keen observation of human nature.
The Prince
A classic study of power and control, this treatise by Machiavelli was written with little thought of business, or even politics. Rather, and quite ironically, his goal was to impress Lorenzo de’ Medici, and, essentially, to gain back a cushy job. Somehow, within his most base and self-serving aspirations of comfort, the man crafted a pinnacle of business virtue that advocates manipulation, authority, and force, but also resiliency and the steadfast commitment to a purpose. The ends justify the means, etc., have become clichéd as terms, but in theory and practice they are still astounding in their economy and precision. Citing or abiding his work won’t make you popular, and his name has become eponymous with the most feared and hated type of boss, but The Prince underscores a fundamental tenet: it’s not personal, it’s business.
The Art of War
By far the most “classic” of the classics, Sun Tzu’s masterpiece is also the most concise and universally indispensable. No estimate could do justice to the role played in world history by this little “how to”: memorized by Chinese fighters, revered by Napoleon, it was even studied by American forces during World War II.
Lately, though, this first of all military treatises has begun breaching the business battlefield in a big way. Spying, scheming, snaking, staying ahead by any means necessary is Sun Tzu’s game. Upon reading descriptions of maintaining the offensive, the use of energy, and exploitative strategy, one gets the feeling that this is not the guy you’d want to have to scrapple with for the last cookie.
And this may be how competitors will feel about any who put his theories into practice.
While the book’s popularity continues to mount, Tzu’s delivery—simplistic, arcane, poetic—ensures every reader takes away something different and is entertained along the way.
Written in 500 BC, The Art of War is still the final word on all things competitive. While the weapons have changed with time, the immutable laws of human conflict never will.
Written by Todd Lazarski