Founded in 1940, the Seraphic Society is a secret association of Executive Assistants (secretaries) to CEOs and the nation’s elite. Some have likened them to a sort of Skull & Bones or Illuminati of Executive Assistants. Its goal, according to Fortune Magazine is “To establish a bond of cooperation and friendship among secretaries to leaders.”
It is said they chose the name from the angel Seraphim in the Bible, as a way to convey their role which is to protect their employers.
They have been hidden in the shadows for decades, and that’s the way they want it. While there are literary dozens of high-profile associations for assistants all over the world nowadays, the Seraphic Society chooses to be ultra-exclusive. Essentially, they are in an invite-only club for more than 50 years. The main function of the group is for professional development and networking.
The Seraphic Secretaries of America, as it was originally called, was the brainchild not of an assistant or a boss but of a PR man named Frederick Darius Benham. While trying to get attention from executives, he soon realized he couldn’t get anywhere without building a relationship with their gatekeepers. So in 1938, according to the self-published history of the group, “A Chronicle of the Seraphic Society,” he began to hand out “an award of merit” for “unfailing courtesy, tact, politeness, charm, urbanity, gentility, civility, amiability, good temper, and sweetness” whenever he came upon an assistant who went beyond the call of duty.
In 1940 he invited 12 secretaries to dinner at the Lexington Hotel in Manhattan. (The secretary to Dale Carnegie was among the attendees.) The following year’s highlight was the presentation of the group’s “Secretary of the Year” title, complete with a Remington Rand typewriter, to Phyllis Moir, author of “I Was Winston Churchill’s, Private Secretary.” Though not a Seraphic, Moir brought public attention to the group — a boon for Benham, if not for those angels of discretion.
Ultimately, the Seraphics split from Benham, holding annual banquets, regular membership meetings, and eventually an elegant “bosses’ dinner” every five years, funded by the companies themselves.
In an era of economic turbulence and increased CEO turnover — not to mention the embrace of social networking — it’s no wonder that the Seraphic Society and other groups like it are flourishing.
