The Attaché

An Analysis of Niccolò Machiavelli’s The Prince and Christine de Pizan’s The Book of the City of Ladies

Aryan Rajagopal | Originally Published: 4 April 2026

The moral compass of political leaders throughout history has oftentimes come under question. Across various forms of government, leaders’ ambition to maintain their public image through exhibits of benevolence is critical to sustained success. In this article, I argue that the perceived “goodness” of leaders is more politically valuable than legitimate displays of moral righteousness. Through a comparison between Niccolò Machiavelli’s The Prince and Christine de Pizan’s The Book of the City of Ladies, I contrast their respective interpretations of morality as a manipulable tool for benefit or an ethical duty of those in power, and explore the tangible value of goodness for political leadership, the cautioned limitations placed on it by political philosophy and whether its legitimate use is worthwhile. The views expressed by de Pizan and Machiavelli encompass frameworks that continue to inform international relations to this day. 

Christine de Pizan’s The Book of the City of Ladies: Political Leaders’ Mindsets

While specific traits of goodness do not provide a definitive conclusion on whether such qualities are necessary for political leaders to hold, they provide insight into the mindset behind such displays. In The Book of the City of Ladies, early feminist writer Christine de Pizan decrees that political leaders must endeavour to “speak and uphold the truth,” to “defend the rights of the poor and the innocent,” and to “uphold the reputations of those unjustly accused” (I. 5). Growing up in a French society that largely rejected the role of women, particularly those of a lower social class, de Pizan’s beliefs centred primarily on the empowerment of women and their emancipation from control by men. She did not demand that men become subservient to women; instead, she theorized a society in which political leadership acted with genuine goodness towards those who had been disadvantaged in life. In emphasizing the necessity of social justice and the protection of vulnerable groups as proper moral conduct, de Pizan advocates that political leaders, namely the women whom she wishes to see rule a society of their own making, commit themselves to the same moral customs she describes as appropriate for all people. Christine’s political philosophy is further established by her dedicated service to God and adherence to benevolent moral principles, describing her role as “the shield and defender of God’s servants” (I. 5). She sees political leadership as having a more important role than strict governance, recognizing women as leaders while reminding her followers to be moral role models for the societies they administer. Christine broadly affirms the need for political leadership to defend those who are less fortunate by founding a society that works for the benefit of all, not simply the ruling class, emancipating the oppressed from their struggle and propelling them to take charge for universal benefit. Noting that the majority of women would consider themselves among the “poor and the innocent,” de Pizan dictates her politics through her religious alignment and belief in female emancipation (I. 5). De Pizan adds that women have a longstanding legacy of righteousness, proving their self-made worthiness of political leadership. She describes that women are “not only pious,” but that they “embrace charity” through various moral acts, particularly in support of the poor and sick. De Pizan describes how these acts are not simply dictated, but rather warmly accepted, by women as the “noblest roads God can command [one] to follow” (I. 10). 

Despite her overall commitment to righteous leadership, de Pizan notably grants a degree of exception for women who defend their wealth and property with vigour. Rejecting the notion that women who collect items for themselves are greedy, she notes that they are “generally kept so short of money that they zealously guard the little they have,” knowing the difficulty of acquiring any amount of wealth for themselves (II. 66). This is not to say that Christine tolerates greed, but rather, that she understands and permits the defence of one’s own property. She notes that, if enabled to do so through the attainment of financial stability, women “would not be greedy or parsimonious in doing honorable things and giving generously to the needy,” so long as they continue to carry themselves with righteousness in service to God (II. 66). In recognizing the existence of healthy indulgence, de Pizan permits political leaders to take liberties for themselves if they do for the benefit of the greater good, regarding care for those who are disadvantaged as an utmost priority. Holding that the collection and preservation of personal wealth by women is conducted with redistribution in mind, de Pizan’s stance on moral righteousness as actions that benefit those less fortunate is made explicit. She advocates that political leaders use their acquired wealth, power and influence for the benefit of others. Recognizing the often-ignored needs of women and other disadvantaged people throughout history, noting her personal experiences and hardships, de Pizan carves out an ideal conduct for her followers to adhere to and propagate, placing a clear and genuine moral compass at the forefront of political leadership.

Christine de Pizan affirms the need for leaders to “do the right thing” when placed in contentious circumstances, not for self-benefit, but out of moral necessity (I. 5). Through these examples and others, it is clear that her views on “goodness” in political leadership centre on benefitting those who cannot do so themselves. In response, de Pizan demands that political leaders act with a commitment to the greater good, not just at face value, but with genuine integrity and interest. She desires that none of her followers “cling to frivolous opinions lacking all reason or become jealous or harbor evil thoughts,” noting that these traits are “unbecoming and improper in women,” thus removing them from the City of Ladies she aims to construct (III. 19). While de Pizan and her principles on political leadership lean on the empowerment of women through divine service, noting chastity and piousness as key principles, she firmly believes in the commitment of women to authentic, righteous practices as a foundation for productive governance.

Machiavelli’s The Prince: Maintaining Law & Order Through Leadership

De Pizan’s commitment to authentic practices is where her politics deviates from Niccolò Machiavelli, an Italian political thinker who lived two centuries after The Book of the City of Ladies was written. In his treatise, The Prince, Machiavelli offers a similar commentary on the “goodness” of political leaders; however, he provides a contrasting viewpoint to de Pizan, targeting perceived displays of goodness rather than the literal act of being good. Concerning the benefits that come from political leaders being “good,” this is where Machiavelli and de Pizan most deviate: the legitimacy of actions themselves. He takes a far less committed stance, rejecting the rigid principle of holding righteous beliefs while recognizing the potential benefit of perceptibly demonstrating a steady moral compass, promoting prudence and a strong reputation as the most ideal qualities of political leaders. 

In The Prince, Machiavelli presents a perspective on leadership dedicated to maintaining law and order over their subjects, achieving superiority over allies and adversaries through physical and psychological means. Commenting on the management of foreign relations, he notes that the prince “ought to make himself the head and defender of his less powerful neighbours,” asserting a commitment to control over political communities by strong-willed leaders (The Prince Ch. III). The first of these two proposals aligns with de Pizan, committing political leaders to the pursuit of helping those less fortunate by providing defence to neighbouring states in need. However, where he deviates from the French thinker is the sentiment behind this commitment, which is not made under the guise of selflessness or even self-preservation, but rather, a pursuit of dominance. Machiavelli follows up this recommendation by dictating that “no foreigner as powerful as himself shall, by any accident, get a footing,” warning that such threats will naturally arise “through excess of ambition or through fear” and that leaders must  “weaken the more powerful amongst them” (Ch. III). In this way, Machiavelli affirms that his stance on relations between and within states must be founded on unquestioned loyalty to a central authority, regardless of whether that authority has the best interests of their allies and adversaries in mind. His order that leaders enforce the submission of neighbours, theorizing that foreign states as powerful as the prince will always aim to destabilize them, justifying preemptive action against them as a matter of self-defence and assured power over them. 

In fact, the commitment that Machiavelli displays towards the protection of the state against internal and external threats is so strong that he questions the very existence of “good” qualities and their value in political leadership. Commenting on the exhibition of good qualities by the prince, he deduces that while it is “praiseworthy” to do so, he argues that since he is neither “entirely possessed nor observed,” he should be expected to be “sufficiently prudent…to avoid the reproach of those vices which would lose him his state” (Ch. XV). He concludes that while demonstrating good qualities is critical to public perception, a consistent commitment to demonstrating goodness constrains political leadership rather than providing any tangible benefit. This represents an even sharper deviation from the teachings of Christine de Pizan, who affirmed the possession of good qualities as morally valuable in service to God rather than solely for the preservation of the state. He does not reject righteous principles outright; rather, he contrasts de Pizan, who stresses the existing moral goodness of political leaders, instead viewing the display of these qualities as tools for one’s benefit. Adding to these tactics, which he refers to broadly as “liberality,” Machiavelli asserts that it is more critical that goodness is “recognized, except to his cost,” by subjects of the prince (Ch. XVI). Where he previously recognized the potential strategic value of benevolent characteristics, Machiavelli continues by recognizing such demonstrations as valuable so long as they bring value to the prince’s rule. Effectively, he aims to quantify and maximize the political value of morality rather than founding his beliefs on leadership using these principles. When Machiavelli points out the potential shortcomings of political leaders who display “liberality,” he decrees that it inevitably leads to being “despised and hated” by one’s subjects, even advising the wiser approach of harbouring a “reputation for meanness which brings reproach without hatred” (Ch. XVI). In doing so, he thoroughly contrasts de Pizan, believing the very display of righteous practices and beliefs depletes political leaders’ ability to act independently. In essence, unlike his counterpart, Machiavelli rejects the value of moral principles altogether; however, he correctly recognizes that the perception that political leaders hold such qualities holds far more importance. Permitting the prince to hold an unkind reputation where necessary, Machiavelli understands that, so long as mild grumbling among subjects is the extent of their disapproval, the image of leaders as bearers of order and control over an anarchic world will surpass feelings of resistance and discontent.

Conclusion: Juxtaposing Christine de Pizan and Niccolo Machiavelli

While both Christine de Pizan and Niccolo Machiavelli deduce that broad exhibitions of goodness by political leaders are to their benefit, they make that conclusion with opposing rationales. The former resolves that all humans, regardless of origin, sex or class, should aspire to possess such qualities and display them from an honest standpoint, seeking to build oneself up in service to God and for those less fortunate. The latter rejects this perspective, viewing righteous principles and actions as fruitless endeavours that seek to limit the power of political leaders, while recognizing the benefits that come with a fraudulent display of said qualities. The middle ground between these contrasting perspectives on goodness is convoluted; however, the supposed existence of “goodness” among leaders does not matter either way, as Machiavelli notes throughout The Prince. He posits that it is “unnecessary for a prince to have all the good qualities [he has] enumerated, but it is very necessary to appear to have them,” deducing that it is not the possession of goodness that matters to the success of political leaders, but rather, the perceived possession of such qualities (Ch. XVIII). Resolving that demonstrations of liberality and “goodness” are meaningless, Machiavelli deduces that it ultimately does not matter whether the prince is benevolent to his subjects or acts righteously, so long as they believe he is doing so. 

Arguably, it is the stance Machiavelli holds on the reputation of a prince that most defines the political necessity of goodness among leaders. Describing leadership styles of the prince, he prescribes that he “ought to inspire fear in such a way that, if he does not win love, he avoids hatred,” viewing the public perception of political leaders’ ability to enforce social order as the most valuable aspect of their rule (Ch. XVII). There is no such thing as “goodness” to Machiavelli in the way there is to Christine de Pizan; noting the “dread of punishment which never fails,” he aligns his politics with a regime of constant psychological exploits, intertwined with a false sense of security established through inauthentic displays of righteousness. Morality emerges as a concept of the mind, manipulated and exploited by the will of those who display sufficient confidence and the political power to back it. Political leaders who use societal perceptions of virtuous customs, traditions and actions, whether founded in divine belief or otherwise, and emerge with a furthered sense of control over their subjects, are described as the most “good” of them all. A notion erased, order restored.

References 

1. Christine de Pizan. 2018. The Book of the City of Ladies. Ed. Sophie Bourgault and Rebecca Kingston. Translated by Ineke Hardy. Indianapolis, IN: Hackett.

2. Machiavelli, Niccolò. 1994. Selected Political Writings. Translated by David Wootton. Indianapolis, IN: Hackett.