History reveals a curious pattern: those who rise to ultimate power often exhibit peculiar—sometimes outright bizarre—behaviors that would disqualify ordinary mortals from managing a small-town hardware store. From ancient emperors appointing horses to political office to modern presidents communicating with deceased pets, the phenomenon of eccentric leadership transcends time, geography, and political systems.
The Ancient Oddballs: Setting the Historical Precedent
Caligula, Rome’s notorious third emperor, famously appointed his favorite horse Incitatus to the Senate. While historians debate whether this was literal or a calculated insult to the Senate (implying a horse could do their job), the incident represents perhaps the earliest documented case of a ruler’s pet entering the political sphere.
But Caligula wasn’t alone in his strangeness. Emperor Elagabalus forced Rome’s senators to watch him dance around the altar of his namesake sun god while wearing makeup and women’s clothing—shocking in ancient Rome’s hypermasculine political culture. Persian King Xerxes once ordered the sea whipped after a storm destroyed his bridge. These weren’t simply powerful men behaving badly; these were symptoms of what Lord Acton would later famously observe: “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
Modern Monarchs: Eccentric Royals and Their Peculiar Habits
The trend continued through monarchy’s golden age. Bavaria’s “Mad King” Ludwig II bankrupted his kingdom building fantastical castles, while conducting imaginary conversations with Louis XIV of France (dead for 170 years). He would sometimes order elaborate seven-course dinners served to invisible guests while he conversed with them at length.
Russia’s Peter the Great collected human teeth and forced his court to maintain a “Cabinet of Curiosities” including human deformities preserved in alcohol. He personally performed dentistry (without training) on his terrified courtiers and tortured his own son to death for perceived disloyalty.
Even Queen Victoria, often portrayed as the embodiment of propriety, displayed peculiar behaviors after Prince Albert’s death—setting out his clothes daily and keeping his rooms exactly as they were for four decades, while claiming to communicate with him through spiritualist mediums.
Presidential Peculiarities: From Jackson’s Parrot to Nixon’s Bowling
The American presidency has hosted its share of oddities. Andrew Jackson’s pet parrot had to be removed from his funeral for cursing excessively. William Henry Harrison delivered a two-hour inaugural address in freezing rain without a coat to prove his vigor, caught pneumonia, and died a month later. Calvin Coolidge would press all the White House buzzer buttons simultaneously to summon staff, then hide to watch them run around in confusion.
Lyndon Johnson conducted meetings while defecating with the bathroom door open—a power move designed to discomfort subordinates. Richard Nixon installed a bowling alley in the White House basement and would bowl alone late at night during the Watergate crisis. Jimmy Carter reported seeing a UFO and filed an official report.
These weren’t hidden foibles revealed years later through historical research or tell-all memoirs. Many occurred in full view of staff, journalists, and sometimes the public, yet rarely damaged the leaders’ authority in the moment.
Enter the Dogs: Javier Milei’s Canine Cabinet
Which brings us to Argentina’s current president, Javier Milei, and his truly unprecedented inner circle: five genetically identical English mastiffs, cloned from his deceased dog Conan at a cost of approximately $50,000 each.
Milei doesn’t just love these dogs; he considers them his “children” and—most remarkably—claims to consult them on matters of state. “I can communicate with Conan,” Milei has stated publicly, “and he gives me political and economic advice on how to get the country out of the current mess.”
According to Milei, this consultation happens through a medium who channels the spirit of the original Conan. The cloned dogs—named after economists Milton Friedman, Murray Rothbard, and Robert Lucas—represent both physical embodiments of his departed companion and spiritual conduits to the original.
This arrangement would be eccentric enough in a private citizen. In the leader of a nation facing inflation exceeding 200% and poverty rates above 40%, it represents something else entirely—a case study in the strange psychological effects of power acquisition.
Why Leaders Go Weird: The Psychology of Power
The pattern of bizarre behavior among those who achieve ultimate authority isn’t random. Multiple psychological mechanisms appear to be at work:
First, power literally changes the brain. Studies show that power increases testosterone and decreases cortisol (the stress hormone) while reducing activity in neural regions associated with empathy. The powerful become less able to see things from others’ perspectives and increasingly convinced of their own correctness.
Second, extreme power creates extreme isolation. When surrounded by people who won’t contradict you, reality testing suffers. Without genuine feedback, behavior that would be checked in ordinary social interaction goes uncorrected. As Nixon’s Defense Secretary James Schlesinger observed: “Certainly the presidency is the loneliest job in the world.”
Third, power attracts peculiar personalities to begin with. The extraordinary drive, ambition, and risk tolerance required to pursue ultimate authority aren’t average psychological traits. Those who seek immense power often begin with unusual psychological profiles before power itself exacerbates these tendencies.
In Milei’s case, these factors combine with a documented history of alienation. Estranged from parents he’s accused of abuse and surrounded by political enemies, his “four-legged children” represent a chosen family incapable of betrayal. His canine cabinet stands as both symptom and solution to the isolation of power.
The Functionality of Dysfunction
The most fascinating aspect of leadership eccentricity isn’t just that it exists, but that it sometimes serves strategic purposes. What appears dysfunctional often has hidden functionality.
Nixon’s “madman theory” deliberately cultivated the impression he might be unstable enough to use nuclear weapons, designed to keep adversaries cautious. Trump’s unpredictable tweets kept opponents perpetually off-balance. Even Caligula’s apparent madness may have been calculated to keep potential usurpers guessing.
Milei’s spiritual consultations with his cloned dogs serve multiple practical functions: they reinforce his outsider brand in a political landscape long dominated by conventional corruption, signal authenticity to voters tired of focus-grouped politicians, and communicate his distrust of traditional political structures in the most visceral way possible.
In a country where conventional economic approaches have repeatedly failed, Milei’s unconventional personal life makes his radical economic policies seem more plausible. If he’s willing to be this authentic about something that would embarrass most politicians, voters reason, perhaps he’ll be equally honest about solving the country’s problems.
The Authenticity Premium
The most successful eccentric leaders transform potential liabilities into assets by leaning into their peculiarities rather than hiding them. They understand what could be termed the “authenticity premium” in modern politics.
In an era of manufactured political personas, obvious authenticity—even bizarre authenticity—has become increasingly valuable. From Boris Johnson’s deliberately disheveled appearance to Trump’s unfiltered communication style, voters increasingly favor leaders who appear genuinely themselves, even when that self includes behaviors traditionally considered disqualifying.
Milei’s canine consultations fit this paradigm perfectly. They’re so outlandish they can only be authentic, allowing him to position himself as the genuine outsider in a system plagued by calculation and corruption.
The Modern Function of Ancient Behaviors
What’s particularly striking about leadership eccentricity is how similar behaviors appear across vastly different historical contexts. Caligula’s horse in the Senate and Milei’s dogs in the cabinet represent the same underlying phenomenon: the elevation of animal companions to political positions traditionally occupied by humans.
Both represent radical breaks with institutional norms. Both communicate deep distrust of conventional political structures. Both create powerful symbols that resonate beyond rational analysis. And both transform private attachments into public governance in ways that bypass traditional accountability mechanisms.
The technologies change—from appointing horses to office to cloning deceased pets—but the fundamental psychology of power remains remarkably consistent across the millennia.
As Argentina navigates its current economic crisis under Milei’s unconventional leadership, history offers no clear verdict on whether his canine consultations predict success or failure. Eccentric leaders have both saved nations and driven them to ruin.
What’s certain is that Milei stands in a long, strange lineage of leaders whose peculiarities both reflect and shape the societies they govern. From Caligula’s Senate-trolling to Milei’s séances, the phenomenon of leadership eccentricity reveals something fundamental about power itself—it permits behaviors impossible in ordinary life while simultaneously warping the judgment of those who wield it.
Perhaps in the end, the strangest thing about bizarre leadership behavior isn’t that it happens, but that we continue to be surprised by it.
