I read The Ugly American for the first time eleven years ago on my way to Iraq as an advisor. It’s one of the few books I’ve ever rated with 5-stars, a rating I reserve for books that change the way I think about something. I picked it up again based recently with a renewed interest in foreign policy.

This is a story of Americans in a fictitious Southeast Asian country where the United States and the Soviet Union are vying for influence. Written in 1958, it foreshadows our foreign policy debacle in Vietnam, but do not let that fool you into thinking it lacks relevance. The fictitious nation trying to balance relationships between the United States and the Soviet Union could be one of several countries in the world today. Simply replace the Soviet Union with a contemporary American adversary like Russia or China and the effect remains.

I would love to say the portrayal of the American officials’ insensitivity to language, culture, and custom is rare, but the authors’ critical sarcasm of U.S. foreign policy comes from their witness to our arrogance. They base their stories on true accounts; in fact, the book was initially written as non-fiction. It was a plea for change. Not four years after this book was published, we helped the South Vietnamese government with the strategic hamlet program, a best practice copied from the Malayan Emergency. Culture and customs in Vietnam tied people to their land, something not found in Malaysia. Instead of improving conditions, the program helped isolate the population from the South Vietnamese government, not at all what was intended. Arrogance happens, and frankly, I saw some of the described behavior from senior U.S. officials while advising in Iraq not long ago. Not all behaved this way of course, but this book is a warning to approach interactions with caution and be wary of ourselves.

But if arrogance is innate, where does it come from? There are at least two potential drivers of arrogance highlighted by the story. The first source stems from hubris. Pride is easy when you globally dominate the economic and military spheres. Our success often blinds us, as can our national narrative. We believe hard work will bring success, but in some places, you need more than that. Another source of arrogance comes from bureaucracy. There are always disagreements between allies and this tension is exacerbated by bureaucracy. The hidden bureaucratic incentives drive us to dismiss others to achieve the stated and unstated goals in our organization. A contemporary Army example is our penchant for action and making things happen, a trait that serves us well on the battlefield but not so well when compromise is necessary. Hubris and bureaucracy cloud our ability to listen to another.

To overcome this flaw, Lederer and Burdick believe character is the answer. The protagonist, Homer Atkins, is an inventor, not a member of the government establishment. His dirty hands always “reminded him he was an ugly man.” He was humble, patient, and understanding. He listened and compromised to get things done for the country he loved and cared for, even if it was not his own. Because of that, he was the epitome of an ambassador.

The Ugly American sold over a million copies and had a profound impact on U.S. foreign policy. It is said to have been the genesis of President Kennedy’s Peace Corps. The funny part is that term ugly American is stuck in our lexicon the wrong way. The ugly American was the hero; it was the arrogant American, impeccably dressed, that was ugly.

Lieutenant Colonel Christopher L’Heureux is an Armor Officer currently assigned as an instructor at the School of Command Preparation. He commanded 2d Squadron, 2d US Cavalry in Vilseck, Germany.