Elbert Hubbard – A Message to Garcia: Book Review & Audio Summary

Book Info

• Book name: A Message to Garcia
• Author: Elbert Hubbard
• Genre: History & Politics, Self-Help & Personal Development
• Published Year: 1899
• Publisher: The Philistine
• Language: English

Audio Summary

Synopsis

Written in 1899 by Elbert Hubbard, “A Message to Garcia” is a brief but powerful essay that became one of the most reprinted works of its time, second only to the Bible. The story centers on Lieutenant Andrew Rowan, who during the Spanish-American War was tasked with delivering a crucial message to Cuban rebel leader Calixto Garcia. Without questioning, hesitating, or making excuses, Rowan accepted the dangerous mission and succeeded. Hubbard uses this historical incident as a springboard to discuss the qualities of an ideal worker: initiative, dedication, and the ability to complete tasks without constant supervision or complaint. The essay resonated deeply with industrial-age America and influenced leaders like Theodore Roosevelt, Henry Ford, and John D. Rockefeller.

Key Takeaways

• True initiative means accepting responsibility and completing tasks without excuses, questions, or complaints—embodying the spirit of Lieutenant Rowan who delivered his message against all odds
• Employers value workers who demonstrate self-reliance and competence over those who constantly need direction, make excuses, or delegate their responsibilities to others
• Negativity and complaining only reflect poorly on yourself, not your circumstances—you must either fully commit to your work or find a better situation elsewhere
• Success comes from controlling your thoughts and attitude, as positive thinking creates positive outcomes while negative thinking perpetuates failure
• The ability to take action without excessive questioning or hand-holding is often more valuable than formal education or credentials

My Summary

The Story Behind a Cultural Phenomenon

I’ll be honest—when I first picked up “A Message to Garcia,” I was skeptical. How could an essay written in 1899 about a relatively obscure military mission still matter today? But as I dug into Elbert Hubbard’s work, I began to understand why this short piece became a cultural phenomenon that sold more copies than any book except the Bible during Hubbard’s lifetime.

The context is fascinating. Hubbard wasn’t some ivory tower academic or career military officer. He was a former traveling soap salesman who would go on to found the Roycroft community and become a major figure in the Arts and Crafts movement. He wrote this essay in a single evening after a dinner conversation about the Spanish-American War, and it struck a chord with turn-of-the-century America in a way few writings ever have.

The essay tells the story of Lieutenant Andrew Rowan, who was given what seemed like an impossible task during the Spanish-American War in 1898. President William McKinley needed to communicate with Calixto Garcia, a Cuban rebel leader fighting against Spanish rule. The problem? Nobody knew exactly where Garcia was, and Cuba was enemy territory crawling with Spanish forces.

When Colonel Arthur L. Wagner recommended Rowan for the job, the lieutenant didn’t ask “Where is he?” or “How am I supposed to find him?” or “What if I get caught?” He simply took the oilskin pouch containing the message, disappeared into Cuba, and emerged weeks later having successfully completed his mission. No drama, no excuses, no lengthy explanations about why it couldn’t be done.

Why This Message Resonated With Industrial America

Reading Hubbard’s essay today, you can feel the frustration of an employer dealing with the transition from agrarian to industrial work. The late 1800s saw massive changes in how Americans worked. People were moving from farms where they’d been self-directed workers to factories and offices where they needed to follow instructions and work as part of larger organizations.

Hubbard was clearly exasperated with what he saw as a growing culture of excuse-making and incompetence. His essay resonated because business leaders of his era—people like Rockefeller, Ford, and Roosevelt—were dealing with the same challenges. They needed workers who could take initiative, solve problems independently, and get things done without constant supervision.

The essay’s popularity wasn’t just about nostalgia for self-reliant pioneers. It spoke to a real business need during a period of rapid economic expansion. Companies were growing larger and more complex. Communication was slower. Managers couldn’t micromanage every decision. They needed “Rowans”—people who could be trusted to figure things out and deliver results.

The Encyclopedia Experiment: A Dated But Interesting Point

One of Hubbard’s more memorable passages describes an experiment he suggests readers try: ask six subordinates to research information about Antonio da Correggio, an Italian Renaissance painter, in an encyclopedia. According to Hubbard, most will respond with unnecessary questions, try to delegate the task, or come back claiming the information doesn’t exist.

I have to admit, this section made me cringe a bit. The tone is condescending, and the experiment itself reveals more about early 20th-century management attitudes than it does about human nature. In Hubbard’s defense, he was writing during an era when basic literacy wasn’t universal and access to information was much more limited.

But there’s a kernel of truth here that still applies. We’ve all worked with people who respond to simple requests with a barrage of questions designed to deflect responsibility. “Is this really my job?” “Can’t someone else do it?” “Why do we need this?” Sometimes these questions are legitimate—clarifying expectations is important. But sometimes they’re just resistance disguised as inquiry.

In today’s workplace, this might look like the colleague who responds to every email with questions they could answer themselves with two minutes of research. Or the team member who always has a reason why they’re not the right person for a task. The specific technology changes, but the behavior pattern Hubbard identified remains recognizable.

The “Get Out or Get In Line” Philosophy

Perhaps the most controversial aspect of Hubbard’s essay is his stark message about workplace complaints: stop complaining or quit. He argues that criticizing your employer, your boss, or your working conditions only reflects poorly on you. If things are truly intolerable, leave. Otherwise, commit 100% to being the best worker you can be.

This is where Hubbard’s message becomes problematic for modern readers, and honestly, for me too. The essay was written during an era of limited worker protections, dangerous working conditions, and virtually no recourse for exploitation. Telling workers to either shut up or quit ignores legitimate grievances and structural problems in the workplace.

Hubbard’s example of the Yale student who complained about the university particularly bothered me. He frames the student’s criticism as ingratitude and negativity, but what if the student had legitimate concerns about educational quality, discrimination, or other serious issues? Dismissing all criticism as character flaws in the critic is a dangerous path.

That said, I think there’s a more nuanced reading available here. Hubbard isn’t really talking about workers who advocate for better conditions or point out genuine problems. He’s talking about chronic complainers who focus their energy on negativity rather than solutions. We all know this person—the one who finds fault with everything but never offers constructive alternatives or takes action to improve their situation.

There’s a difference between advocacy and complaining, between constructive criticism and chronic negativity. The former improves workplaces and society; the latter just makes everyone miserable. I think Hubbard was aiming at the latter, even if his broad brush swept up too much in the process.

Applying “Message to Garcia” Principles in Modern Work

So what does this 125-year-old essay mean for us today? Surprisingly, quite a bit—if we’re willing to separate the valuable insights from the dated attitudes.

First, the core principle of taking initiative remains incredibly valuable. In my own career, I’ve noticed that people who can take a project and run with it—who don’t need their hand held through every step—advance faster and earn more trust. This doesn’t mean working without guidance or never asking questions. It means asking the right questions upfront, then executing without constant check-ins.

I recently worked with someone who embodied the “Rowan spirit” beautifully. When given a complex research project with vague parameters, instead of coming back every day with questions, she spent the first day asking clarifying questions about the end goal, then disappeared for a week and returned with exactly what was needed. That’s the modern equivalent of delivering the message to Garcia.

Second, Hubbard’s emphasis on personal responsibility resonates in our era of remote work and distributed teams. When you’re working from home or collaborating across time zones, nobody’s looking over your shoulder. The ability to self-manage and deliver results without supervision isn’t just valued—it’s essential.

Third, the essay reminds us that attitude matters enormously. While I reject Hubbard’s absolutist stance on never complaining, there’s truth in the idea that chronic negativity becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. People who constantly focus on obstacles tend to find more obstacles. People who focus on solutions tend to find more solutions.

However, we need to update Hubbard’s framework for the 21st century. Taking initiative doesn’t mean blindly following orders without question. Sometimes the most valuable thing you can do is push back on a flawed plan or suggest a better approach. Real initiative includes the courage to say “I can deliver this message to Garcia, but I think there’s a better way to accomplish our actual goal.”

What Hubbard Gets Wrong: The Limitations of This Philosophy

Let me be direct: there are significant problems with Hubbard’s essay that we can’t ignore. The most glaring is its complete lack of empathy for workers facing genuine exploitation, discrimination, or unsafe conditions. The essay was written during the Gilded Age, an era of robber barons, child labor, and deadly working conditions. Telling workers in that environment to stop complaining or quit is, frankly, offensive.

Hubbard’s perspective is entirely from the employer’s viewpoint. He never considers that maybe some of those “incompetent” workers are dealing with inadequate training, unclear expectations, or impossible demands. He never acknowledges that some complaints are legitimate and necessary for progress.

The essay also promotes an unhealthy worship of work for work’s sake. The implication that manual labor is inherently noble and that questioning authority is inherently wrong creates a recipe for burnout and exploitation. We need workers who think critically, who question flawed processes, and who advocate for better systems—not just obedient automatons.

Furthermore, Hubbard’s black-and-white thinking—you’re either a Rowan or a complainer, either committed or worthless—ignores the reality that most people fall somewhere in between. Good workers can have bad days. Valuable employees can struggle with certain tasks while excelling at others. The world isn’t divided into heroes and deadweight.

His encyclopedia experiment also reveals a troubling management philosophy. A good manager doesn’t test employees with trick assignments designed to reveal their incompetence. They provide clear expectations, necessary resources, and constructive feedback. The adversarial relationship Hubbard describes between managers and workers is exactly what modern management science has worked to overcome.

Comparing “Message to Garcia” to Modern Leadership Literature

It’s interesting to compare Hubbard’s essay to contemporary books on initiative and work ethic. Works like “Extreme Ownership” by Jocko Willink and Leif Babin or “The Obstacle Is the Way” by Ryan Holiday share Hubbard’s emphasis on personal responsibility and taking action, but they balance it with more nuanced thinking about leadership, teamwork, and systems.

Stephen Covey’s “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People” covers similar ground about being proactive and taking initiative, but does so within a framework that acknowledges interdependence and emotional intelligence. Covey would agree with Hubbard about the importance of initiative, but he’d add layers about understanding others, seeking win-win solutions, and continuous improvement.

More recent books like “Radical Candor” by Kim Scott or “The Culture Code” by Daniel Coyle would push back hard on Hubbard’s “get out or get in line” philosophy. These works emphasize that healthy organizations need both commitment and constructive dissent, both loyalty and honest feedback.

What makes “A Message to Garcia” still worth reading isn’t that it’s right about everything—it’s not. It’s worth reading because it captures a particular moment in American business culture and because its core insight about initiative remains valuable, even if its application needs serious updating.

The Historical Context We Can’t Ignore

To really understand this essay, we need to know more about Elbert Hubbard himself. He was a fascinating character—a soap salesman who became a philosopher, an entrepreneur who founded a utopian arts community, a writer who died on the Lusitania when it was torpedoed in 1915.

Hubbard wrote “A Message to Garcia” in one sitting after dinner, supposedly in less than an hour. He included it in his magazine “The Philistine” almost as an afterthought. But it struck such a chord that it was reprinted millions of times. Businesses ordered copies in bulk to distribute to employees. The Russian government printed copies for railway workers. It became required reading in schools and military units.

Why? Because it articulated something business leaders desperately wanted to believe during a period of massive social and economic change. It provided a simple narrative: success comes from individual character and work ethic, not from systems, structures, or circumstances. This narrative was convenient for those in power because it placed all responsibility on workers while absolving employers of any need to examine their own practices.

Hubbard himself embodied contradictions. He was an advocate for the Arts and Crafts movement, which valued craftsmanship and human dignity in work, yet his essay reduces workers to either useful or useless. He created the Roycroft community as an alternative to industrial capitalism, yet his essay became a favorite of industrial capitalists. He was a progressive in some ways—supporting women’s rights and criticizing organized religion—yet his views on work and authority were deeply conservative.

Finding the Balance: Initiative Without Blind Obedience

So how do we extract value from “A Message to Garcia” while rejecting its problematic elements? I think the key is understanding initiative as a skill that serves your own goals and values, not just your employer’s demands.

Real initiative means:

Taking ownership of outcomes: When you commit to something, see it through. Don’t make excuses or blame others when things get difficult. This doesn’t mean never asking for help—it means taking responsibility for seeking out the help you need.

Solving problems proactively: When you encounter obstacles, try to work through them before escalating. Come to your manager with solutions, not just problems. But also know when a problem is beyond your scope and needs to be escalated.

Clarifying expectations upfront: Ask the questions you need to ask at the beginning so you can work independently afterward. Understand the goal, the constraints, and the definition of success before you disappear to “deliver the message.”

Communicating appropriately: Initiative doesn’t mean radio silence. It means updating stakeholders at appropriate intervals and flagging issues early when they arise. Rowan didn’t just disappear into Cuba—he maintained communication when possible and reported back on his mission.

Thinking critically: Sometimes the most valuable initiative is recognizing that the assigned task isn’t the best way to achieve the underlying goal. A modern Rowan might say, “I can deliver this message to Garcia, but I’ve learned that Garcia has moved. I can either search for him or deliver the message to his second-in-command who I can reach faster. What’s more important—reaching Garcia specifically or getting our message to the rebel leadership?”

Where I Land on This Classic Essay

After spending time with “A Message to Garcia,” I’m left with mixed feelings. On one hand, I appreciate its core message about initiative and personal responsibility. These qualities never go out of style, and they’re genuinely valuable for career success and personal satisfaction.

On the other hand, I’m troubled by the essay’s lack of nuance, its dismissal of legitimate grievances, and its one-sided perspective that places all virtue with employers and all fault with workers. The essay has been used to justify exploitation and to silence necessary criticism of workplace conditions.

I think the essay works best as a starting point for discussion rather than as a definitive guide. It raises important questions: What’s the difference between initiative and blind obedience? When is complaining constructive versus destructive? How do we balance loyalty with critical thinking? What do employers owe workers, and what do workers owe employers?

For modern readers, I’d suggest reading “A Message to Garcia” alongside works that provide more balanced perspectives on work, leadership, and organizational culture. Use it to reflect on your own work ethic and initiative, but don’t use it as an excuse to accept poor treatment or to dismiss others’ legitimate concerns.

Questions Worth Pondering

As I finished this essay, a few questions stuck with me that I think are worth considering:

How do we cultivate the initiative and self-reliance that Hubbard celebrates while also maintaining the critical thinking and advocacy that he dismisses? In other words, how can we be both reliable executors and thoughtful critics?

What would a modern “Message to Garcia” look like if it were written from the worker’s perspective rather than the employer’s? What would it say about taking initiative in your own career development, in building your own skills, in creating your own opportunities?

Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear your thoughts on “A Message to Garcia.” Have you encountered this essay before, perhaps in a workplace training or military context? How did it strike you? Do you think its message about initiative is timeless, or is it hopelessly dated?

More importantly, who are the modern “Rowans” you’ve encountered—people who take initiative and deliver results without excuses? What made them effective, and how did they balance that initiative with critical thinking and healthy boundaries?

Drop your thoughts in the comments below. This essay has sparked debates for over a century, and I suspect we haven’t heard the last word on it yet. Whether you find it inspiring or infuriating (or like me, a bit of both), it’s worth grappling with as we think about what it means to do good work in a complex world.

Thanks for reading, and I’ll see you in the next post here at Books4soul.com!