Harry Potter and the Secret of Statecraft
Life imitates art, and art imitates life. With this in mind, I often use Harry Potter to introduce public policy and administration concepts to my students in class. Anyone familiar with J. K. Rowling’s series or its film adaptations will recall the shocking incompetence and mismanagement of the Ministry of Magic.
This fictional depiction mirrors what scholars call “government failure” in the real world. Despite the abundance of real-life examples, the narratives from Harry Potter offer a unique and engaging way to understand and explain why managing public affairs — or statecraft — is so complex and challenging.
Government failure is a system failure, not solely attributable to some specific individuals. In particular, failing to separate politics from administration and from the judiciary led to catastrophic failures under terrible leadership in Harry Potter’s realm. The Minister of the Ministry of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, held the highest authority as a political leader, managed the organization as a minister, and simultaneously presided over the judiciary as the head of the Wizengamot.
This interlacing governance structure created conflicts of interest and accountability problems, ultimately leading to biased and misled decisions, such as denying and hiding facts and evidence on Voldemort’s return, placing Dementors at Hogwarts, and appointing Dolores Umbridge as Hogwarts High Inquisitor, among others. While the interplay of politics and administration is inevitable and sometimes desirable, dividing power within and between government branches based on the separation of powers still holds significant normative value as a guiding principle. There are several other aspects of government failure that can be found in Harry Potter, which can help us understand government failures in the real world.
Government entities are neither objective nor neutral. Government is, after all, an organization comprised of individuals who are just as susceptible to cognitive biases and irrationalities. Government employees usually have significant discretion in their course of actions and inactions, which profoundly affect people’s lives. However, they are prone to biases, errors, and distractions and have vastly diverse preferences and motivations like everyone else. As Brehm and Gates (1999) claim, bureaucrats work hard for the most part, but there are moments when they choose to shirk responsibilities or sabotage their supervisors or principals.
Government actions and inactions send powerful messages to the people; the messenger is as important as the message itself. People tend to believe what they read in newspapers or hear on the radio, TV, or from neighbors, whether they have magical abilities or not. Government often uses the media as a tool of statecraft, but not always in a good way. The Daily Prophet, for instance, conveys the Ministry’s intentions and positions, often at the expense of facts.
Governments can do horrible things in the name of the greater good in their own view, such as surveillance of their employees and citizens, censorship of media and access to information, and breaches of individual privacy. Mad-Eye Moody’s magical eye on the door of the infamous Dolores Umbridge’s Office precisely depicts this desire for monitoring and control. Examples of power abuse, misuse, and exploitation can be found to varying degrees in every corner of the world.
Time can be the government’s best friend and its worst enemy. Timely decision and action is a difficult task for any government. Often, governments intentionally delay decisions to avoid problematic or dilemmatic situations or mold them to their liking. This strategy can work and is often worth the risk, as people quickly forget the government’s mistakes and failures. However, delays can exacerbate problems to the point where they exceed the government’s capacity, resulting in drastic changes, such as leadership turnover. Lord Voldemort might not have been able to come back if Fudge had trusted Albus Dumbledore and acted promptly. Fudge’s misjudgment and inaction led to his removal from office, marking a disgraceful end to his tenure.
Representation matters. In her book The Politics of Presence (1998), Anne Philips mentioned, “The real barometer of a good government is its treatment of the most disadvantaged, marginalized, and dependent.” The Ministry of Magic could have been more efficient and effective in preventing Voldemort’s return if all magical creatures, such as elves, giants, and centaurs, were recognized as legitimate members of the Wizarding community and represented within the Ministry. In all probability, this would have made it much more difficult for Voldemort to rally his allies based on division, hatred, and exclusion.
The art of statecraft lies in managing human resources, whether they belong to the wizardkind or humankind. What matters is the people running it inside the bureaucracy. Employee motivation, job satisfaction, fairness in rewards, access to resources, and opportunities for promotion serve as the bedrock of effective, adaptive, and inclusive public service. Furthermore, establishing mechanisms for internal control and self-purification within the government ecosystem is crucial for correcting missteps and attracting talent. The tired, bored, and impatient expressions of the wizards and witches waiting in the toilet line, about to be flushed into the Ministry, foreshadow the impending failure of the Ministry of Magic.
In the end, the Ministry of Magic in the Wizarding World does not seem drastically different from its Muggle counterpart. Their experience reminds us that mastering public management skills and proficiency in dealing with wicked problems is difficult — even with powerful magic. Unfortunately, the secrets of statecraft and governing skills were not taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
