One of my regular correspondents — a career military officer and a man I respect, had this to say about one of the executive archetypes I described in last week’s column (“Jung at heart,” Keep the Joint Running, 9/24/2007) — the General:

Do you think that actual military generals all think as you describe, or are you describing only generals in the business world?

… your picture of “The General” may be colored by those who are in the news: the political appointees, the frankly combat-only commanders, the high-level spokesmen (or mouthpieces), and the occasional battle hero. They’re the exception to the majority, workaday military generals.

… the good generals dislike war and battles. They’re ready to fight them if necessary, but would rather not. They see it as a messy, usually losing, business for all concerned. They’d rather bargain and maneuver than fight. They choose their battles carefully, and when they do fight, it’s for their troops, not necessarily against anyone or anything else.

To clarify: I was writing about the business archetype — executives who see business as war. While I have no survey data to support this, I doubt many business “Generals” have the military training and experience to know what real war looks like.

Speaking of archetypes whose correspondence to the actual day-to-day work might be strained just a bit, here are some more archetypical paths to the executive suite.

Sales Rep: Like the Visionary, the Sales Rep has bought into a big idea. Unlike the Visionary, the Sales Rep isn’t a deep thinker.

For Sales Reps, the one big idea is what matters. They sell it to everyone they meet, with boundless energy and enthusiasm, unifying their organizations and creating demand. They take operations for granted, though, as unimportant detail.

Kindergartner: Kindergartners learned a long time ago how to get what they want. It’s what they do and they’re good at it.

Kindergartners know when to whine, when to complain, when to bully, and when to throw a tantrum. That they are being childish would never occur to them. Those who are more mature think, “Fighting them isn’t worth it, and would bring me down to their level.” And so Kindergartners rise in the organization, acquiring reputations for getting things done when really, they’re merely getting their way.

Psychopath: To the Psychopath, all other human beings are things — objects. The Psychopath is as charming as the Salesman, as ruthless as the General (the archetype, that is), and as self-centered as the Kindergartner.

What is particularly strange about Psychopaths is that while they are devoid of empathy they understand human emotions at a deep enough level to use them to manipulate everyone around them.

Protege: The Protege’s primary skill is persuading someone higher in the hierarchy to become a mentor. In exchange for the Protege’s admiration, the mentor provides introductions, opportunities, and protection.

And yet, Proteges often think they are high achievers.

The Heir is a particularly annoying sub-type of the Protege. The Heir is the person who, to borrow a phrase from Jim Hightower, was “… born on third base and thought he hit a triple.”

Conductor: The Conductor leads the orchestra.

The only instrument the Conductor wields is the baton, and it makes no sound. If you’re in the audience you know that somehow the Conductor still has something to do with the quality of the performance: The same orchestra with a different Conductor sounds quite different, even though the musicians were the same musicians and achieved their virtuosity on their own.

In the world of business, Conductors start by conducting small ensembles. Those responsible for the music hear the quality of performance under their baton and put them in front of larger groups of musicians.

Conductors succeed when those in charge care about the music and understand how it happens.

Mechanic: The Mechanic looks for what’s wrong and fixes it. Then, he or she looks for something else to fix. If there’s nothing wrong, Mechanics will find something to fix anyway.

Mechanics are wonderful executives when a turnaround is required. They look at the world straight and don’t pretend the funny noise the right front wheel is making is normal.

The problem with Mechanics is that once they fix the organization they have no idea where to drive it. That isn’t what they do.

What to make of this: There are as many paths to the executive suite as there are executive archetypes. If you aspire to executive rank, recognizing which situations your natural tendencies fit best — and where they can limit you — will help you get there.

Unless you’re a Kindergartner. If that’s the case:

Grow up.

Work hard and keep your nose clean.

That’s good advice if you want a sweaty proboscis. For career advancement, hard work and an unsoiled schnoz give you a stable place to stand while you get your bearings and plan your strategy. At best. At their worst they stereotype you as cannon fodder — trustworthy, reliable, and useful, but ultimately disposable.

Unless you work for a well-run company. If you do, a reputation for integrity and going the extra mile or three is the best way I know to rise to executive ranks.

Which brings us to this week’s question: Lots of people would like to achieve executive rank. Many are smarter and more talented than the relatively few who succeed. What’s the difference?

Since there are as many answers as there are types of executive, answering the question requires a list of the various types of executive you’re likely to find (and, perhaps, be). Did I say types? Think of these as archetypes — styles of leadership in a pure form. Real executives blend one or more of the archetypes that follow:

Visionary: The Visionary has, or has adopted, a new idea and wants passionately to turn it into reality.

The Visionary’s best path to the executive ranks is entrepreneurship. Excellent at selling their vision, Visionaries build a business around themselves, surrounded by managers and employees who buy into the vision, and the possibility of making it happen.

Visionaries are usually better at defining what has to happen than at making it happen. The successful ones, through luck or skill, have a second-in-commands to do that.

More don’t. The world has no shortage of unfulfilled visions.

General: Generals view every situation as a battlefield, and everyone else as a soldier or officer who is with them or against them. As a result, Generals are likely to be ruthless. Winning is the measure of all things.

Some are Generalissimos — in charge. Generalissimos are often better at achieving and holding onto power than at leading a successful organization. Among the reasons: Generalissimos see everyone in the world as being either friend or foe and treat every foe as a threat to be neutralized. All that’s required to be classified as “foe” is to disagree.

Other generals accept civilian leadership — perhaps from a visionary — and see their role as making sure their side wins.

The best generals are excellent strategists, tacticians, and logicians, and recognize the value of smart, well-trained, disciplined men and women throughout their organization.

The worst fight unnecessary battles because fighting battles is what they know how to do.

And because winning battles builds loyalty among the troops, whether or not the battle was worth fighting.

Head Coach: Head coaches have a lot in common with generals. Highly competitive, they build organizations that are good at winning, and know how to choose winning strategies and tactics.

Head coaches share a limitation with generals — they see the world as a zero-sum game, where if they want to win, someone else has to lose. Head coaches are, however, less ruthless than generals. They are more likely to recognize and accept the rules of the game, and know that losing a game doesn’t mean losing a season.

The best aspect of Head Coaches is that, as is the case in football and basketball, they recognize that they aren’t the stars. The worst is their fondness for illustrating every conversational point with a sports metaphor.

Prairie Chickens: Every spring, male prairie chickens congregate in acre-or-so areas called “leks.” In each lek they carve out small territories and do the prairie chicken dance to attract females. The male in the center of the lek is most successful. Females ignore those at the periphery entirely.

The center males aren’t, as you might think, the meanest, toughest prairie chickens around. My former colleague in ethology, Henry McDermott, proved this through years of careful observation: Those male prairie chickens that don’t die from disease or being eaten move closer to the center by taking the territories of the dear departed.

Many corporate executives achieve high rank in much the same way: They avoid failure rather than achieve success, drifting upward by filling the holes left by bolder executives who slipped up and were asked to vacate the premises.

Visionaries, generals, head coaches and prairie chickens. See yourself anywhere on the list?

If you don’t, never fear. You still have a chance. Seven, really.

That’s how many C-archetypes are left … assuming I don’t think of any more.