By Professor Agathe Mezzadri-Guedj
With The Odyssey hitting cinemas this summer, it’s the perfect time to reflect on what the ancient hero Odysseus can teach today’s leaders.
The story of the Trojan War continues to fascinate readers and movie audiences several thousand years after it was first written down. The release of a new cinematic adaptation of The Odyssey this summer creates a timely opportunity to revisit one of the most complex characters in the saga and reflect on what Odysseus, King of Ithaca, can teach today’s leaders about the dangers of pursuing your goals at any cost.
The heroes of Ancient Greece have achieved a kind of cultural immortality, not just in their homeland, but around the world. Of that legendary roster, one is particularly renowned for his strategy and cunning: Odysseus.
Equipped with such mental sharpness, The Odyssey tells the story of his return from a 10-year-long conflict, navigating a fleet of ships through an Ancient Mediterranean world populated with hostile tribes and terrifying monsters. It is a feat that should surely place him as the ultimate management guru for today’s leaders.
Yet, with Christopher Nolan’s retelling bringing the story to life once again for modern cinema-goers, it’s the perfect time to reflect on Odysseus’ many contradictions as a character. How can one man be both an inspiration to modern leaders and also a warning?
The man of many devices
The Odyssey and The Iliad are often paired together as the pillars of Ancient Greek epic poetry. Both were supposedly authored by the same poet, Homer. Seen through this lens, some stark differences emerge between the tales.
While The Iliad’s protagonist, Achilles, is name-dropped in the opening lines of his story, The Odyssey’s beginning simply refers to the titular character as “andros polytropos”, translated as the “man of many devices” by classical scholar A.T Murray.
Other translators have interpreted it differently. Leconte de Lisle adapts it as “that subtle man”; Victor Bérard calls him “the man of a thousand tricks”; and Philippe Jaccottet refers to him as “the inventive one”.
The term is ambiguous and perfectly introduces a man whose mental agility is essential for survival in a complex world. It is fitting that the poem that bears his name never provides a clear-cut manual for modern leaders to follow. Rather, it poses questions.
The man who is “Nobody”
Odysseus is, doubtless, a man who achieves great things.
Among his merits is a close relationship with Athena, a war goddess who is often contrasted with Ares. While the latter is associated with the carnage of battle, Athena is a tactician. Odysseus’ close connection with her highlights the ways he demonstrates the Ancient Greek concept of “metis”, which is a kind of flexible intelligence that adapts to the unexpected.
One of the ways “metis” influences Odysseus’ actions is his willingness to learn from mistakes. During the return journey, his men are routed by the tribe of the Cicones while they are drunk. Odysseus later uses this tactic to escape the Cyclops, lulling the monster into a drunken sleep before attacking it.
In a stroke of genius, he also tells the monster his name is “Nobody” so that, when the sailors blind the giant with a wooden stake, it can only wail that Nobody is attacking it, confusing the other Cyclopes who might otherwise have rushed to help.
This encounter frames one of the epic’s central questions concerning a leader’s identity. Odysseus protects himself and his men by pretending to be Nobody. In a modern context, where personal branding is an essential trait for leaders, this feels unusual.
It was no less so in Ancient Greece, where heroes aspired to achieve a sort of immortality through personal glory. Odysseus is no exception. Indeed, The Odyssey takes its name from its protagonist in a way that Achilles, who is ready to die young in exchange for everlasting fame, does not give his name to The Iliad.
Despite the seeming importance of heroes preserving their names through glorious deeds, the moment Odysseus gives in to the temptation to brag, taunting the Cyclops with his true name, the monster uses this information to put a curse on him.
No wonder then that when Odysseus finally arrives home, he does so in disguise, unsure of how he will be received. In the final chapters of the story, reclaiming his name is linked with reclaiming his throne, with only those loyal to their king recognising him through his concealment.
So, which Odysseus is the better leader? The man who is nobody, or the king restored?
A man of many detours
As a wandering king, Odysseus embodies the archetype of a leader navigating uncertainty, vulnerable to human faults.
On the island of the Cyclopes, he turns a deaf ear to his men, who beg him to leave. Odysseus is too consumed by curiosity and anticipation that their (until then absent) host will offer them gifts, as is customary in Ancient Greek culture. The result? Several of his men are eaten.
Elsewhere, the reverse problem occurs. Odysseus’ men act rebelliously, refusing to listen to his orders or entreaties. Mishearing, or failing to make oneself heard: the poem presents, without resolving, the two sides of this leadership pitfall.
In the end, Odysseus returns to his kingdom and retakes his throne. But his victory is soured by the fact that all of his followers are dead. In today’s corporate environment, it evokes the risk of burnout en masse in pursuit of an objective. Completing the journey at the cost of everyone else is hardly a success.
This critique has historical precedents. The 17th-century French theologian François Fénelon produced his own spin-off of The Odyssey centred on the hero’s son, Telemachus. Written as a source of guidance for the heir to the French throne, the story moralises that a good king serves his people rather than seeking his own glory.
As recently as 2025, New York-based writer Daniel Mendelsohn published a new translation of The Odyssey. Once again, the term “andros polytropos” is reinterpreted, this time as “a man who has taken so many detours”. Mendelsohn downplays the hero’s cunning to emphasise his wandering nature.
Every era creates its own translations, adaptations, and rewrites of The Odyssey to reflect on its power. Christopher Nolan is the latest in this tradition and, based on his past filmography, will doubtless bring a bold new vision to this epic tale.
Odysseus’ story has lost none of its power to enthral audiences, but not because it presents a perfect leader to be emulated. Instead, it holds a mirror to our own contradictions. We often admire the strategist who overcomes adversity. But what is the cost of success?
Three thousand years later, The Odyssey continues to defy anyone who tries to turn it into a leadership manual. It never proposes a model for leaders to follow; rather, it compels every generation to re-examine its own approaches and beliefs.
