Niccolò Machiavelli wrote The Prince in 1513 primarily as a practical guide for rulers on how to gain, maintain, and consolidate power. At the time, Machiavelli, a Florentine diplomat and political thinker, had been exiled from political life after the Medici family regained control of Florence, ending the republic he had served. He was arrested, tortured, and eventually banished to his estate, where he turned to writing.
The Prince was dedicated to Lorenzo de’ Medici, a member of the ruling family, likely as an attempt by Machiavelli to regain favor and secure a political position. Beyond personal motives, though, Machiavelli aimed to distill his observations of politics and human nature—drawn from his diplomatic experience and study of history—into a pragmatic manual for leadership. Italy during this period was fragmented, with city-states constantly warring and vulnerable to foreign powers like France and Spain. Machiavelli believed a strong, unified leadership was essential to stabilize and protect Italy, and The Prince reflects this urgency.
The book’s famous (or infamous) advice—such as the idea that it’s better for a ruler to be feared than loved if he can’t be both, or that the ends justify the means—stems from his focus on realpolitik: the gritty reality of power rather than idealistic notions of morality. He studied figures like Cesare Borgia, whom he admired for ruthless effectiveness (even if Borgia ultimately failed). Machiavelli wasn’t advocating amorality for its own sake; he saw it as a necessary tool for survival and order in a chaotic world.
So, in short: Machiavelli wrote The Prince to offer a no-nonsense playbook for rulers, hoping to influence the Medici, showcase his expertise, and address the political instability of Renaissance Italy. It’s less a philosophical treatise and more a survival guide for the powerful—or those who want to be.
He’d been a big deal in the Florentine Republic—handling diplomacy, negotiating with heavyweights like Cesare Borgia, and even organizing a militia—before the Medici swept back into power in 1512 and kicked him out. Exiled and desperate to prove his worth, The Prince was his way of flexing his political acumen. The dedication to Lorenzo de’ Medici practically screams, “I’m useful—look at all this insider knowledge I’ve got!” It’s less about “please like me” and more about “you need me.”
That said, it’s not a résumé in the modern sense—no bullet points listing his prior roles or diplomatic missions. It’s more subtle, wrapped in a guidebook format, blending practical advice with a not-so-humble brag about his understanding of history and human nature. So, while it’s also a serious political work with bigger aims (like unifying Italy), the personal angle—Machiavelli auditioning for a comeback—definitely fits the résumé vibe.
