I think that maybe if women and children were in charge we would

Hear the voice of James Thurber, sharp observer of life’s follies, who declared: “I think that maybe if women and children were in charge we would get somewhere.” Though the words sparkle with wit, they shine also with deep wisdom. For in them lies a critique of the long history of male-dominated power, which has so often bent itself toward conflict, ambition, and pride. Thurber dares us to imagine a world where the gentleness of women and the innocence of children might guide us, where compassion would replace cruelty, and where the vision of life, not death, would be the ruling principle.

The origin of this saying lies in Thurber’s long career as a writer and humorist, a man who saw with keen clarity the absurdities of human behavior. In the early to mid-20th century, as the world staggered through two devastating wars, his words echoed the disillusionment many felt toward traditional systems of power. Men had ruled with armies and industry, and yet left the earth scarred and bloodied. Thurber, with a mixture of irony and longing, suggested that those too often dismissed—women and children—might carry a vision of life unclouded by conquest, and thus might guide us toward peace and renewal.

History gives us glimpses of this truth. Consider the women of ancient Sparta, who though not warriors themselves, raised their sons to be courageous and demanded integrity of their men. Their strength was not found in swords, but in shaping the spirit of a nation. Or think of Malala Yousafzai, a child when she first stood against oppression, whose voice shook the halls of power more deeply than many governments. In her youth was clarity; in her simplicity was strength. Thus, Thurber’s vision is not fantasy but rooted in the real power that women and children have wielded when the world dared to listen.

The deeper meaning of his words is this: women embody the wisdom of nurture, and children embody the purity of imagination. These are qualities the world of politics too often lacks. The masculine hunger for conquest has built empires but also destroyed them. The tender strength of women, who bear life and care for its flourishing, offers another way. The innocence of children, uncorrupted by greed or hatred, can remind humanity of its higher ideals. If these voices led us, perhaps the path would bend not toward destruction but toward harmony.

The lesson for us is profound: true leadership is not always found in the loudest, the strongest, or the most aggressive. It may be found in the qualities we too often dismiss as weakness: kindness, imagination, innocence, compassion. To allow such qualities to guide society is to reimagine power itself—not as domination, but as stewardship; not as control, but as care.

To the youth, I say: never believe your voice is too small to matter. Your dreams may hold the seeds of the future. To women, I say: do not underestimate the power of your wisdom, for it can steady the world when men falter. To the leaders of nations, I say: listen not only to generals and bankers, but also to mothers and children, for in their words lies the conscience of humanity.

Practical action lies before us: honor the perspectives of those who have been excluded from leadership. In your homes, your communities, your governments, invite the voices of women and children to be heard. Let decisions be guided not only by profit or power, but by compassion and imagination. When faced with conflict, ask not only, “How do we win?” but also, “How do we preserve life?”

Thus James Thurber’s words, though wrapped in humor, remain a beacon of wisdom. “If women and children were in charge we would get somewhere.” Perhaps not to empires or conquests, but to something greater: to peace, to justice, to a world that remembers what it means to live. Let us then learn to walk by their wisdom, that we may indeed get somewhere worth going.