Fishman is very clear about what he wants to accomplish, and his book is accordingly brief and tightly argued. It is not meant as an exhaustive theoretical account of Aristotle or as a detailed examination of presidential leadership acts. Rather, Fishman intends to “provide a straightforward application of an ancient strategy for effective leadership to information presently available in a language and style accessible to general readers and students in courses on the American presidency and the history of political philosophy” (p. 13). He begins with a theoretical chapter that explicates Aristotle's theory of prudential leadership and discusses three other “competing leadership strategies that [Aristotle's] theory implies—idealism, cynicism, and pragmatism” (p. 6). With this theoretical foundation in place, the bulk of the book constitutes an application of these concepts to particular acts of presidential leadership. A concluding chapter considers further the implications of Aristotle's theory of prudential leadership for presidential studies in particular and presidential leadership more generally.

There are several audiences for this book—general readers as well as students and scholars of political philosophy, the presidency, and leadership studies—but most especially presidency scholars. Fishman is rightly critical of the lack of normative analysis in presidency studies and, indeed, political science in general. Presidency scholars (Fishman singles out for special consideration Richard Neustadt, James Barber, and George Edwards) often do yeoman work in explaining the causes and effects of presidential behavior, but they are typically reticent, or perhaps evasive, when it comes to normatively judging that behavior. Presidents are labeled “good” if they are energetic, or persuasive, or successful in passing legislation. But political scientists rarely question whether the decisions presidents make, or the policies they pursue, are moral or laudable or, to use a rather unfashionable word, “virtuous.” By returning to Aristotle and his theory of prudential leadership, Fishman tries to develop a language and model by which to make normative and evaluative sense of the American presidency and presidential leadership. “Presidents serve the public interest of the United States most effectively when their behavior conforms to Aristotle's venerable, but no longer generally venerated, theory of political prudence” (p. 6).

Fishman largely succeeds in giving us a language for making evaluative judgments. The leadership categories of prudence, pragmatism, idealism, and cynicism turn out to be very useful in explaining and interpreting leadership acts of American presidents. For example, idealism is an accurate characterization of Woodrow Wilson's stubborn leadership on the Treaty of Versailles, and cynical leadership best characterizes Bill Clinton's actions during the Lewinsky scandal. Of course, prudence is the key model of leadership, around which the others revolve.

Prudential leadership occurs when leaders “emphasize universal ideals without romanticizing them and do their best to honor values in the face of practical obstacles” (pp. 22–3). This is to be distinguished from pragmatic leadership, which is often conflated with prudential leadership, that is, “values are secondary to tangible results” (p. 22). Prudential decisions in American history are Lincoln's leadership during the Civil War and Theodore Roosevelt's support of conservation; pragmatic decisions include Truman's use of the atomic bomb and Kennedy's leadership during the Bay of Pigs. Although “the difference between prudence and pragmatism is especially difficult to appreciate” (p. 25), Fishman takes us quite a way toward clarifying the distinction. Undoubtedly, some will quibble with Fishman's interpretation and characterization of certain acts of leadership, but in the main they ring true and help us better understand the range and scope of presidential leadership.

One of the more interesting and provocative contributions of the book is an understanding of the relationship between private character and public action. In light of the Lewinsky scandal, which was a partial motivator for the book (p. 14), this question takes on immediate relevance. Clinton and his defenders argued for a strict separation between private behavior and character and presidential leadership. In fact, some used Clinton to prove that there is no relationship: To wit, Clinton was an outstanding president who had a flawed or immoral private character. Aristotle and Fishman clearly disagree with this viewpoint. Aristotle rhetorically asked: “Is it not true that men who have no command of their passions will fail to serve their own interest even though they possess self-knowledge and self-loyalty and will equally fail to serve the public interest (even though they possess a knowledge of public affairs and public loyalty)” (p. 31)? Whereas Stanley Renshon (High Hopes, 1996) gave us a psychological explanation of the connections between Clinton's private and public behavior, Fishman provides a more philosophical perspective, one that is sure to provoke further debate over the legacy and leadership of Clinton.

Two aspects of the book need refinement and development. First, because the pursuit of “universal ideals” is a hallmark of prudential leadership, one would like to see a more systematic discussion of what might constitute universal ideals and values. There are oblique references to such standards as the Ten Commandments and the Golden Rule (p. 112), but a more substantial discussion is warranted. Second, and more important, Fishman's model of leadership places somewhat unreasonable expectations on presidents. “The less we expect of our presidents, the less we are likely to get from them” (p. 119). This may be true, but we need to be more discriminating about exactly when and under what circumstances we should expect great leadership of the Aristotelian, prudential stripe. What if the context and times do not permit prudential leadership?

Fishman confronts Stephen Skowronek's The Politics Presidents Make (1993) in the last pages of the concluding chapter, but he does not fully address the powerful challenge that Skowronek's arguments pose. Skowronek's seminal study suggests the very real limitations of expecting great acts of leadership from all presidents, regardless of circumstances or their place in “political time.” Surely, we should criticize presidents for squandering opportunities for great acts of moral leadership, but we also should be sure that they did, in fact, have the reasonable opportunity to exercise such leadership. Thus, Fishman makes an important break with the presidency literature in his focus on normative analysis, but his individual-centered leadership perspective, being insufficiently attentive to context and institutions, is too conventional.

Nevertheless, this book is a welcome addition to the presidency (and political science) literature. Fishman has given us a language for better describing and evaluating presidential leadership, and in the process he demonstrates the continuing relevance of political philosophy and normative analysis to contemporary politics and political science. These are no small achievements.