Decision Points

government courtesy of Prime Minister Tony Blair . I had told Tony that I admired Churchill’s courage, principle, and sense of humor—all of which I thought were necessary for leadership. (My favorite example of Churchill’s wit was his reply when Franklin Roosevelt caught him coming out of the tub on a visit to the White House in December 1941. “I have nothing to hide from the president of the United States!” he said.) After 9/11, I realized the three busts had something in common: All depicted wartime leaders. I certainly didn’t have that in mind when I chose them.
    One space on the wall was reserved for the president’s most influential predecessor. I chose Lincoln. He’d had the most trying job of any president, preserving the Union. Some asked why I didn’t put Dad’s portrait in that spot. “Number forty-one hangs in my heart,” I said. “Sixteen is on the wall.”
    The centerpiece of the Oval Office was the Resolute desk . I had chosen the desk because of its historical significance. Its story began in 1852, when Queen Victoria dispatched the HMS
Resolute
to search for the British explorer John Franklin, who had been lost looking for the Northwest Passage. The
Resolute
was trapped in ice near the Arctic and abandoned by its crew. In 1855 it was discovered by an American whaling ship, which sailed the
Resolute
back to Connecticut. The vessel was purchased by the U.S. government, refitted, and returned to England as a goodwill gift to the queen. When the
Resolute
was decommissioned two decades later, Her Majesty had several ornate desks made out of its timbers, one of which she gave to President Rutherford B. Hayes .
    Most presidents since Hayes have used the Resolute desk in one capacity or another. Franklin Roosevelt commissioned a front panel door with a carved presidential seal, which some historians believe was intended to hide his wheelchair. Little John F. Kennedy, Jr., poked his head out that door in the most famous Oval Office photo ever taken. Dad had used the Resolute in his upstairs office in the residence, while Bill Clinton returned it to the Oval. Sitting behind the historic desk was areminder—that first day and every day—that the institution of the presidency is more important than the person who holds it.
    Andy Card was with me as I took my place at the Resolute for the first time. My first Oval Office decision was to replace the desk chair—a bizarre contraption that vibrated when plugged in—with something more practical. Then the door to the Rose Garden swung open. I looked up and saw Dad.
    “Mr. President,” he said. He was wearing a dark suit, his hair still wet from the hot bath he’d taken to thaw out.
    “Mr. President,” I replied.
    He stepped into the office, and I walked around the desk. We met in the middle of the room. Neither of us said much. We didn’t need to. The moment was more moving than either of us could have expressed.

    Dad and I together in the Oval Office that day.
White House/Eric Draper

    On my ninth day as president, my domestic policy team gathered in the Oval Office. Everyone was on time. That was what I expected. Timeliness is important to make sure an organization does not get sloppy. The chief briefer that day was Margaret Spellings , a smart and feisty mother of two. Margaret had served with me in Austin and moved to Washington as my top domestic policy adviser. She covered a variety of topics that day, including a new initiative for people with disabilities and an election reform commission chaired by former Presidents Ford and Carter. Then she launched into a discussion of embryonic stem cell research. “The Clinton administration issued new legal guidelines that interpret the Dickey Amendment to permit federal funding for embryonic stem cell research. We have several options going forward—”

    With Margaret Spellings.
White House/Eric Draper
    That’s as far as she got before I cut her off. “First of all,” I asked, “what exactly is a stem cell?” I learn best by asking questions. In some cases, I probe to understand a complex issue. Other times, I deploy questions as a way to test my briefers’ knowledge. If they cannot answer concisely and in plain English, it raises a red flag that they may not fully grasp the subject.
    As usual, Margaret was well prepared. She started by explaining the science. Embryonic stem cells are a special medical resource becausethey can transform into a wide variety of different cell types.