Politics & Power Quote by Paul Harris

Harris opens with what sounds like a courteous concession, then uses it as a trapdoor. By insisting it "would not be fair" to accuse Rotary's critics of prejudice, he performs fairness as a rhetorical posture while quietly disarming the very critique he’s naming. It’s a lawyerly move: concede the opponent’s credibility ("some of the most brilliant") to make your own position look magnanimous, then imply that the criticism must have some other, more complicated motive than simple bias. The compliment is real, but it’s also a containment strategy.

The subtext is less about protecting critics than protecting Rotary’s legitimacy. Rotary, in its early decades, was often accused of being a clubby business network dressed up as civic virtue: an engine of middle-class male influence that could look like philanthropy from the inside and self-congratulation from the outside. Harris’s sentence anticipates that external skepticism and tries to neutralize it by framing the debate as one among respectable people. If even "brilliant" writers object, the organization doesn’t look fringe; it looks important enough to attract serious opposition.

Context matters: in the early 20th century, public trust was becoming a scarce currency amid monopolies, muckraking, and anxieties about backroom power. Rotary’s brand depended on being seen as ethical fellowship rather than coordinated advantage. Harris’s line is an early piece of reputational crisis management: flatter the watchdogs, deny them the easy explanation, and keep the organization’s moral story intact without having to litigate the specifics of their complaints.