As an editor and writer, I was fortunate to have several opportunities to interview Peter Drucker, deemed "the father of modern management," who died in 2005 but whose ideas continue to influence leaders today.

A longtime professor at the Peter F. Drucker School of Management at Claremont Graduate University, Drucker was noted for his practical wisdom about life and career. The nearly two decades since his death has been a time of much cultural upheaval, so I wondered what advice he might have had for young workers starting out today.

While Drucker himself is not alive to share his ever-evolving philosophy, I did the next best thing: I called on AI to respond as Drucker might to several questions I never got to ask him. It took three tries to get sufficiently nuanced replies.

If you could meet your 27-year-old self, the year before you immigrated from Europe to the United States, what would you tell him about how things worked out over the course of your career?

That life rarely unfolds as planned, but that its course is shaped by opportunities seized, values upheld, and the willingness to adapt. Leaving Europe was not just an escape from the encroaching darkness of fascism; it was an opening to a life of contribution. I’d also caution him to focus on people above all—on enabling their growth, dignity, and effectiveness.

I would also tell him to treasure and preserve his capacity for wonder, for the world will often try to extinguish it with cynicism or complacency. I would urge him to observe, deeply and empathetically, the humanity behind systems, organizations, and economies. And above all, I would tell him, find ways to create meaning—not just for yourself but for others.

If you could meet any one of several childhood friends that you have not seen since you left Vienna for college in Germany, what would you ask them about how their life evolved and their level of satisfaction with their life now?

What have you learned about yourself over the years? What matters most to you now? And, What do you wish you had done differently? I would want to know how they navigated the profound changes and upheavals of the 20th century—how they found meaning and whether they felt their life’s work contributed to the greater good.

I would ask how they coped with change—how they adapted as the world we grew up in disappeared, replaced by one so different in values and structure. And I would ask, What sustained you?

Your early employment in the United States included teaching at two liberal arts schools, Sarah Lawrence College and Bennington College. If your earlier jobs were different (either teaching elsewhere, or not teaching and doing something else), how would your life have evolved differently?

Those early teaching roles immersed me in a culture of inquiry and creativity. They taught me to listen, to challenge assumptions, and to value interdisciplinary thinking. Had I started elsewhere or in a role outside teaching, my trajectory might have leaned more heavily into business practice or consulting, rather than the intellectual exploration that became foundational to my work.

The students challenged me to see education not as the imparting of knowledge but as the unlocking of potential. Those schools taught me to respect the individuality of people—something that later informed my management philosophy. They also helped me refine the art of asking the right questions. I might have reached similar conclusions elsewhere, but I suspect the path would have been slower and less richly textured.

What do you think of the idea of the bucket list, and did you ever have a similar list?

The notion of a bucket list seems to emphasize activities or achievements as ends in themselves. While there is nothing wrong with wanting to experience life fully, I always believed that life should be about purpose, not merely milestones. I never had a formal list, but I constantly sought to focus on contributions—whether through work, relationships, or societal impact.

A bucket list, I might say, is an interesting concept because it compels one to articulate what they truly value—but it can also trivialize the deeper purpose of living. Instead of a list of things to do, I would advocate for a list of things to become.

John E. Flaherty, who later wrote a book about you, audited many of your courses at New York University in the 1950s. He said that the vast majority of {your} students worked full time and took courses in the evening., and that you respected their personal commitments, family sacrifices, and the maturity brought to the classroom. Would you consider this teaching approach ahead of its time?

I would not call it ahead of its time but rather suited to its time—and, I would argue, to any era. Teaching working professionals was a privilege. They brought real-world challenges into the classroom, which grounded academic concepts in reality. My role was to respect their experiences and guide them in thinking more critically and effectively. Such teaching was not an innovation; it was a reflection of my belief in treating students as partners in the learning process.

They were not in school because it was expected of them but because they were deeply motivated to learn and improve. My role was to respect that motivation and challenge them to think rigorously about what they wanted to achieve.

References

William A. Cohen, PhD: A Class With Drucker: The Lost Lessons of the World’s Greatest Management Teacher (AMACOM, 2007)

Peter F. Drucker: Adventures of a Bystander (Harper & Row, 1978)

Bruce Rosenstein: Living in More Than One World: How Peter Drucker's Wisdom Can Inspire and Transform Your Life (Berrett-Koehler, 2009)

Rick Wartzman, with Photos by Anne Fishbein, Curated by Bridget Lawlor: Drucker: A Life in Pictures (McGraw-Hill, 2013)

© Psychology Today