Evil, scheming rulers are not a thing of fiction, unfortunately. Or even a thing of the past, to be honest. Many of us think of this breed of amoral professional-grade asshole in, maybe, Napoleon Bonaparte, the Medici family of Florence/Catherine de’ Medici of France, Henry VIII of England, or name your least favorite dictator (there are so many). A true Machiavellian is someone who does what best serves themself and possibly the state (let’s be real, themself).

The very term Machiavellian comes from the name of an Italian man with his own political aspirations, Niccolò di Bernardo dei Machiavelli (1469-1527). A career politician of sorts, working for the (in)famous Medici family down in Florence, Machiavelli, known better by the last name, felt the favor and the fury of multiple rulers, including the Medici.

Gaining a heck of a lot of good favor in a heck of a short time, little Nikki became a big figure in the Florentine Republic, ruled by Piero Soderini at the time. Building armies, attending papal conclaves, and meeting highly influential people along the way, Machiavelli was doing fine for himself until the Medici family decided to take Florence, ousting Soderni, and torturing and exiling Machiavelli by proxy.

Frustrated to be out of his favorite profession, Machiavelli penned a little treatise, in hopes of getting into the good graces of the Medici. Not published until after his death (1532), The Prince was an altogether different way to think about a republic, and about the ruler of one.

The (Political Treatise) Currently Known as The Prince

A breezy afternoon read of a book of torrid politics, guileful intrigue, and rather sadistic recommendations, The Prince was informed by years of experience on the inside of politics, a virtual infodump of what Machiavelli knew as a statesman and insider. How lucky, then, that for hundreds of years, students and senators alike would have the pleasure of reading this compact and succinct manual. Forget Sun Tzu, baby, Mac’s in the house!

What makes The Prince different from, say, The Republic  by our boy Plato, or the St. Augustine’s City of God, maybe, is that Machiavelli is really unconcerned about how things should be, and focuses rather on situations and the putting on the big boy pants of ruling and ruling efficiently. What does this mean? Often there seems to be very little to no concern for morality in rule.

For instance, Machiavelli discusses some of the more common of the highly regarded virtues. Writing as though directly to a ruler, he says:

Legazione di Niccolò Machiavelli cittadino e segretario fiorentino a Cesare Borgia duca Valentino by Federico Faruffini (1864). Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

In short, while silly guys in questionable fashion choices are out there telling us what could be, what we should do, the Mac-approved ruler gets down and gets it done. Pragmatic and ever practical, Machiavelli recommends not conscience but conceit, not far-flung morals but rather something akin to empirical realism.

What You Can Do vs. What You Should Do

It is this change of what a good action requires that makes The Prince such an intriguing (and often horrid) little book. For instance, what does Machiavelli recommend for a ruler who would like to be a giving person? Well, shrugs the former (at the time) pro statesman, of course you don’t want to be known for being a stingy jerkface, of course. And if you are taking too much from your subjects, you could end up with rebellion on your hands. But, you don’t want to be known for generosity because you end up emptying your coffers to hand out coins to everyone. It’s not a good look.

Similarly, there are virtues that are perfectly fine to not be perfect about, or not practice at all, some of them not a big deal when it comes down to it. You can be a bit of a philanderer; that is expected. As long as you aren’t flouting it like a floozy, keep on having your affairs. The truth of the matter is, no one is perfect, and as a prince, you can’t be expected to have all those virtues, now can you? It’s just not realistic if you want to rule properly.

Having had tete-a-tetes with some of the most famous Italian statespeople, as well as several popes, Machiavelli kind of knows what he’s talking about. He’s observed the rule of one of the most ethically questionable popes of all time, and has watched the rise and falls of states as his own career waxed and waned. When he tells his prince to be careful to smite his enemies firmly and quickly, and make examples, he knows from experience. For Machiavelli, these are matters of action rather than contemplation, and no place to think too long about ethical equations.

In rejecting, for instance, Plato’s thoughts of what a republic should look like in an ideal world, Machiavelli has seen what a decent republic does, in the Republic of Florence, and how its leaders behave to keep it solid. He doesn’t need some bearded old guy to tell him how it’s done.

The Oldest Game of Thrones in the Book: Right and Wrong

At the end of the day, however, while power might be achieved and maintained for a lengthy period of time, it’s rare that such rulers as Machiavelli suggests in this self-help book keep their iron throne for terribly long. We don’t think too kindly of nasty rulers like Vlad the Impaler (mid-late 1400s), who use overkill in keeping control over their subjects. Heads on a pike sounds intimidating, but didn’t end well for old Vladdy.

Am I trying to out-rationalize the pragmatic Machiavelli? Maybe. But (and I hope my readers can see this) there are many reasons why these hardcore approaches to politics, where you’re constantly wearing a Venetian carnival mask every time you’re out in public, are neither sustainable nor good practice in general. Wear the mask long enough and eventually someone will be there to take it off.

Later thinkers like Locke and Rousseau might argue that, in our own social contract, it is necessary to maintain a modicum of ethical practice. And at the end of the day, while we probably get more podcasts about the nasty rulers of history, the kinder and efficient rulers were probably more fondly thought of by their actual subjects during the time they were alive.

Which is not to say do good things to get a good legacy…that would be another Machiavellian thing to say, and another subject to tackle. Another time.

It’s interesting to note that The Prince was written for the Medici in charge at the time, Giuliano de’Medici, but was not published until after Machiavelli’s death, then given to Lorenzo de’ Medici (the Younger), who, by all accounts TL;DRed it. 

This does not, however, mean that we’ve ignored it in the hundreds of years since. On the fringes of what we consider philosophy, Niccolò Machiavelli’s little treatise remains something we contend with today, whether in school or in the public eye. While it may be fun to watch something like Game of Thrones  play out Machiavellian politics, it is not amusing to watch (or experience) in real time.