“I’ve Done My Research.” No, You Haven’t. You Just Googled It.

During my years in academia, I worked alongside actual researchers. People trained in the discipline and rigor of research. People who spend years refining questions, testing hypotheses, analyzing data, and subjecting their findings to skeptical scrutiny.

The kind of work that, quietly and painstakingly, makes us safer, healthier, and better informed.

So yes, this is a bit of a rant. But it’s also a defense of rigor, discernment, and the kind of thinking that takes time.

What Real Research Looks Like

Question Formation
It begins with a focused, well-formed question, rather than a hunch, a headline, or a vibe.
Literature Review
A deliberate survey of what’s already known: what’s been asked, tested, and found wanting.
Methodology Design
You don’t just gather information. You design a method to test, measure, and interpret with care.
Data Collection
Interviews, experiments, fieldwork, archives. Sometimes months, sometimes years.
Analysis
Pattern-finding. Anomaly-hunting. Applying logic and statistical rigor.
Peer Review
Others trained in the field critique your process, your conclusions, and your blind spots.
Revision
You change your mind. You rethink your conclusions. You improve your work.
Synthesis
You connect your findings to what came before… and to what comes next.
Replicability
Real research invites challenge. Others can retrace your steps and see if they arrive at the same place.

What Google Is

Clicking isn’t thinking.
You’re not discovering insight. You’re collecting headlines.

Google is the fast food of knowing.
Quick. Tasty. And rarely nourishing.

Algorithms aren’t experts.
They reward what spreads, not what holds up.

Search is not scrutiny.
A search bar is not a method. It’s a suggestion box.

If you found it in under a minute, it’s not insight. It’s background noise.

“I Googled it” is the modern “I heard it somewhere.”
Equally shallow. Equally suspect.

Google simulates understanding. Research earns it.

Research has steps. Google has scroll.

Just because it’s online doesn’t mean it’s settled.

Google shows you other people’s answers. Research helps you construct your own.

The Bottom Line

Stop calling it research when what you did was open a browser and skim.

Research is not just information gathering. It’s a disciplined, skeptical pursuit of understanding.

Google is a tool. It can help you start, but it can’t carry you through. Research begins where search ends.

Knowing is harder than it looks. And more worth it, too.

The Manager’s README: A Practice in Radical Honesty and Leadership Evolution

The Document as Mirror

The Manager’s README, sometimes called a personal user manual or leadership charter, has gained popularity as a transparency tool. But its true power lies not in the words themselves but in the accountability framework they create. When you articulate who you are as a leader, your preferences, and your values, you’re informing your team… and you’re lso creating a reference point against which your actions will inevitably be measured.

This isn’t documentation for documentation’s sake; it’s the creation of a mirror you cannot hide from.

Consider what happens when you write, “I welcome new ideas and constructive challenges to my thinking.” This statement, seemingly positive and progressive, carries significant risk. You’ve now established a standard by which your team will evaluate your reactions. Each time you interrupt a challenging perspective or dismiss an unexpected proposal, you create a dissonance between your stated values and your observable actions.

This dissonance of the README process is precisely its purpose.

The Data of Dissonance

Most leadership discourse frames feedback as something managers give rather than receive. The Manager’s README inverts this dynamic, creating a structured invitation for your team to reflect your behaviors back to you.

When a team member musters the courage to say, “You wrote that you value creativity, but I’ve noticed you tend to focus on potential problems whenever new ideas are shared,” they’re providing invaluable data about the gap between your self-perception and your impact.

This moment represents a critical juncture. Will you defend your intentions (“That’s not what I meant” or “You’re misinterpreting my questions”) or will you engage with the reality of your impact? Your response in this moment speaks volumes about your capacity for growth—far more than any carefully crafted value statement.

The discomfort of this feedback is a feature (not a bug). The Manager’s README creates a structured space for precisely this type of productive tension.

Visible Evolution as Trust Currency

Trust is built on demonstrations. When your team observes a disconnect between your README and your actions, they don’t immediately lose faith, but they’ll be watching what happens next.

Do you acknowledge the gap? Do you make visible adjustments? Do you follow up to check whether your changes are addressing the concern?

Trust is built on visible evolution. When your team witnesses you actively working to align your actions with your stated intentions, they experience something rare in organizational life: a leader whose growth happens in plain sight rather than behind closed doors.

Consider the manager who, upon receiving feedback about interrupting team members, acknowledges the behavior and also institutes a new practice in meetings: “I’ve been told I sometimes cut people off. If you notice me doing this, please say ‘I’d like to finish my thought.’ This will help me be more aware.” This visible commitment to change, and the vulnerability of making it public, creates far more trust than any aspirational statement about valuing all voices.

The Authenticity of Imperfection

Perfection is not a leadership goal. A leader who never makes mistakes, never has off days, and never shows frustration comes across as performative rather than real.

The Manager’s README shouldn’t aim to portray an idealized version of yourself, but rather to create a framework for understanding your real patterns—including your limitations. The document might include acknowledgments like “I tend to become more directive under tight deadlines” or “I sometimes need processing time before responding to unexpected proposals.”

These statements are context that helps your team interpret your actions more accurately while also holding you accountable to manage your tendencies.

The paradox is that acknowledging your imperfections makes your strengths more credible. When you admit to struggling with certain aspects of leadership, your team is more likely to trust your competence in other areas. Selective vulnerability creates space for authentic strength.

Intrapersonal Competency: The Meta-Skill

Leadership development typically focuses on interpersonal skills: communication, influence, delegation. The Manager’s README process highlights a more fundamental capability: intrapersonal competency. Your ability to evolve yourself intentionally.

This meta-skill encompasses:

Self-awareness: Recognizing your patterns, triggers, and impact
Feedback receptivity: Taking in potentially uncomfortable information without defensiveness
Intentional adaptation: Making targeted changes to align actions with intentions
Progress monitoring: Checking whether changes are having the desired effect

The Manager’s README documents who you are and it also creates conditions to develop who you’re becoming. The gap between your written intentions and your lived behaviors is the productive tension that drives growth.

The Practice, Not the Product

The value of the Manager’s README is in how it evolves. A document created once and left untouched becomes a monument to aspirations never realized. The README should itself evolve as you do—updated not just with new preferences but with new awareness gained through feedback.

Some managers track how their README evolves, noting shifts based on feedback. It shows a commitment to growth.

The Invitation

The Manager’s README represents an invitation to a different kind of leadership, one defined not by certainty but by curiosity. It challenges the notion that leaders should have it all figured out, offering instead a model where figuring it out happens collaboratively and continually.

This practice won’t eliminate the gap between who you aspire to be and how you actually show up, but it will make that gap visible, discussable, and addressable. And perhaps this is the most powerful leadership stance of all: not “I know the way” but “I’m on the way, and I welcome your help in getting there.”

Your README says who you think you are. Their annotations say who you really are. Which version is more accurate?

Decoding ‘What For’: Understanding What Really Drives Us

In recent weeks, we’ve explored management as craft, requiring deep understanding of human nature, and leadership as poetry, flowing with rather than against the currents of organizational life. As we’ve ventured into embracing chaos—both within and around us—a new question emerges: what truly moves people forward? Perhaps the answer lies not in how we motivate others, but in understanding the complex web of motives that already drives them.

What draws people forward? We often frame this question in terms of motivation—what we can do to energize, direct, and sustain behavior. But what if the key lies not in motivating people, but in understanding their deeper motives?

Vicky is a dedicated doctor. She studied hard, interned tirelessly, and continues to work with unwavering commitment. Her warm bedside manner has made her a trusted physician, and she never gives up on her patients. Vicky also keeps up with the latest research, consults with colleagues, and strives to do the right thing. She genuinely cares about her patients and always wants what’s best for them.

But there’s another layer to Vicky’s story: she also wants to make a good living. She’s proud of her work, yes, but she’s also conscious of the financial rewards it brings. And why shouldn’t she be? Vicky wants to succeed on multiple levels—she’s driven by both her passion for medicine and her desire to support her well-being. This brings us to an important question: what drives people? What inspires someone like Vicky to do her best every day?

We often think of motivation as either intrinsic or extrinsic. Intrinsic motivation comes from within—it’s when we do something because we enjoy it or find it meaningful. Extrinsic motivation, on the other hand, is when we do something for external rewards, like money or recognition. But this traditional distinction is too simplistic. In reality, our drives are far more complex.

We might be better off talking about motives instead of motivation. Motives are the specific outcomes or goals we’re aiming for. They’re not just the ‘why’ behind what we do; they’re the ‘what for.’ What are you doing this for? Is it for financial security, personal satisfaction, or the well-being of others? Identifying these motives helps us understand what we’re trying to achieve.

And that’s where things get interesting. It’s perfectly possible—common, even—to have multiple motives at once. Take Vicky: she wants to make money (extrinsic), do good work and be proud of it (intrinsic), and ensure her work has a positive impact on others (what my colleague Iñaki Vélaz calls transcendent motives). Transcendent motives are those that go beyond ourselves—a desire to contribute to something bigger, to make a meaningful difference in the lives of others.

What if, instead of trying to motivate people, we sought to understand their motives? How might that change the way we lead? When assigning tasks or responsibilities, there is what needs to get done; and there is aligning that work with the motives of the person performing it. Rather than trying to push others, what if we simply uncovered and highlighted the motives they already hold? It’s not about forcing them to act but inviting them to engage with work that aligns with their personal goals.

Ultimately, the conversation isn’t just about motivation in some broad, abstract sense. It’s about recognizing the diverse motives that drive people in different ways. So the next time you’re thinking about how to inspire your team, ask yourself: What are their motives? And how might those motives connect with the goals of the organization? By opening up the field of possibility, we can create workplaces where people feel fulfilled not just by what they do, but by why—and for what—they do it.

Motives are fluid, and they can shift over time. Vicky who starts driven by financial security might later find herself more motivated by the impact she has on her patients. Or, she might prioritize both at different times, depending on what’s happening in her life. How often do we reflect on our shifting motives? If they evolve, how might that shape the way we engage with work and life? Understanding our motives is just one part of the endless journey of understanding what moves us forward, what holds us back, and how we might work with rather than against our human nature.

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Those Who Are Quiet

You sit in meetings. While others talk, you listen. When you speak, what you say cuts through distraction and confusion. You notice things: voices that waver, hands that tighten, and eyes that glance away.

In discussions, you sit back and observe. You let understanding settle while others rush to speak.

When trouble comes, you don’t act until you know what’s needed. Under pressure, you stay with each moment until it becomes clear.

Your leadership gives others space to think for themselves. In your meetings, silence isn’t empty—it allows clarity to surface. You see strength in careful thought and sharp observation.

When you lead projects, patience becomes part of the process. Your teams learn the value of thoughtful pauses. You guide them gently, letting solutions emerge naturally.

When panic fills a room, you stay steady. While urgency demands quick fixes, you focus on understanding what’s wrong. Your calm steadies others when they falter.

When you speak—and you do—people listen. Your words carry weight because they’re thoughtful. You say what matters without wasting words.

Your strength is quiet, but it inspires. You help others find their clarity and confidence.

In a world where noise drowns out thought, your patience reveals what’s important. You show how waiting uncovers truth.

In hard times, people turn to you for your steadiness. You bring a quiet strength to a loud world.

I see you. I celebrate you. I honor what you bring.

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The power of ‘What For?’ Questions: Rethinking Conversation

You’re asking the wrong question—and it’s holding you back.

The power of ‘what for’ questions offers a transformative alternative. In conversations, we’re often inclined to ask ‘why’ to understand someone’s motivations or reasoning. We want to know what led them to a certain choice or how they came to hold a particular belief. “Why?” is so ingrained in our thinking that it almost feels like a reflex, especially in moments when we’re seeking clarity or alignment. Yet, while “Why?” pulls us backward, making us trace origins and reasons, there’s another question that can sometimes unlock even more meaningful answers.

When I first started thinking about this distinction, I assumed “Why?” was always the deeper question. But the more I worked with leaders and reflected on conversations, the more I noticed that “Why?” often kept us circling the past instead of building toward the future. That’s when I started asking, “What for?”—and the difference surprised me.

Consider the question “What for?”—a question that directs our attention to the future, inviting responses centered around purpose, goals, and intentions. Unlike “Why?”, which often demands an answer that begins with “because,” “What for?” skips the backward-facing detective work of “because” and leaps straight into the architect’s blueprint of “so as to” or “with a view to.” It’s less Sherlock Holmes and more Frank Gehry.

In many ways, this distinction between “Why?” and “What for?” mirrors the difference between asking “Where are you coming from?” and “Where are you going?” The first question looks back at origins and reasons, while the second looks ahead to direction and purpose. Let’s explore why “What for?” might be the question that opens up more purposeful, forward-thinking conversations.

The Purposeful Shift from “Why?” to “What for?”

When we ask “Why?”, we’re usually looking for causes. “Why did you choose this direction?” “Why do you believe that?” This line of questioning digs up the motivations and histories behind people’s actions and beliefs. And while this backward look can be valuable, it may not always reveal where someone hopes to go next.

Asking “What for?” is a small shift with a big impact. Instead of grounding a conversation in the past, “What for?” directs it toward the future. For example, in a coaching context, asking “Why do you want this promotion?” might reveal motivations like ambition or a sense of obligation. But asking “What do you want the promotion for?” could invite a different answer, perhaps touching on the desire to lead, the vision of making an impact, or the goal of developing new skills. The response here isn’t simply about motivation—it’s about purpose and direction.

“What for?” might feel like a minor adjustment, but it’s the conversational equivalent of turning your GPS from “history mode” to “destination preview.”

Practical Applications: Shifting Conversations Forward

Here’s how “What for?” can make a difference in a few scenarios:

In Executive Coaching

When a client is setting new goals, asking “What for?” helps them to envision the purpose behind those goals. Instead of grounding their thinking in past achievements or past struggles, it encourages them to articulate the future impact they’re hoping to create. This forward look can lead to greater clarity and motivation.

In Team Meetings

When a team faces a decision point, asking “Why are we choosing this approach?” could yield a list of past-oriented reasons, often grounded in what has or hasn’t worked before. Asking “What are we choosing this approach for?” invites the team to discuss the outcomes they aim to achieve, keeping the conversation focused on objectives and end results.

In Personal Conversations

Even in everyday discussions, shifting to “What for?” can open up new perspectives. Instead of asking a friend “Why did you decide to move?” try asking “What are you hoping to gain from the move?” This small change can reveal the goals, dreams, or opportunities they’re looking forward to, making the conversation more about their aspirations than their past.

The Different Impacts of “Why?” and “What for?”

Both questions have their place, and each has the potential to lead to important insights. “Why?” helps us understand context and background, which can sometimes be essential. But “What for?” brings us to a different layer of understanding, one that speaks to vision and purpose. While “Why?” can help explain what led to today, “What for?” can help shape tomorrow.

In conversations, as in life, both questions matter. “Why?” connects us to our roots, grounding us in what’s brought us here. But it’s “What for?” that pulls us forward, aligning us with the goals and intentions we often overlook. The balance between them is where meaningful progress lives. So, the next time you’re tempted to ask “Why?”, pause for a moment. Maybe it’s time to ask, “What for?” instead—and see where it takes you.

An Invitation to Experiment

Rather than simply deciding that “What for?” is better than “Why?”, think of this as an experiment in how we approach conversations. Try this: In your next meeting or conversation, pause before asking “Why?” and reframe it as “What for?” Notice how the responses shift. Does the person lean into their goals instead of their reasons? Or try flipping it—ask yourself both questions about a current challenge and compare the answers. What does “Why?” reveal about your past, and how does “What for?” shape your vision of the future?

By leveraging the strengths of each, we can have richer, more purposeful conversations. You might find that each question brings out a unique perspective, but that “What for?” invites others (and yourself) to connect more deeply with where you’re heading.

Go HERE for more Essays.

Effective Time Management for Leaders: Beyond ‘Keep It Brief’

Stop watching the clock and start reading the room. Here’s how successful managers balance depth with efficiency.

Managers often tell their teams to “keep it brief,” but complex issues need more than brevity. Here’s how to build a culture of meaningful, efficient conversations.

We hear a lot about “time management.” It’s the topic of countless training sessions, entire bookshelves, and more than a few apps. The advice is often the same: set strict boundaries, prioritize tasks, and stay within limits. For managers, that typically means allotting minutes to each item, limiting every conversation, and urging their teams to “keep it short.”

But there’s a different approach—one that can be more effective, especially in complex, human-centered work. Instead of setting limits, we can choose to give a matter “all the time it requires, and not a minute more.”

I don’t remember where I first heard this principle, but it’s the single most valuable time management idea I know. The phrase may seem simple, but it asks a lot of managers. It shifts responsibility onto us, rather than asking our teams to cut down, speed up, or simplify their thoughts. It’s a commitment to give each topic the consideration it deserves—and to move forward when that consideration is complete.

What This Principle Means in Practice

By promising to give a topic “all the time it requires,” we’re taking ownership of our engagement and focus. We’re saying to our teams, “This issue deserves to be explored in full—not squeezed into a 15-minute slot because that’s what my calendar says.” The “not a minute more” part brings essential discipline: we commit to moving forward when the matter is clear and complete.

This principle isn’t about abandoning structure. Rather, it’s about intentionality. It signals that we won’t cut things short that need depth, nor let discussions spin beyond their natural conclusion.

Why This Approach Works

This approach builds trust. When people know they’re not under a stopwatch, they engage more fully and honestly. They don’t have to compress nuanced issues into bullet points. They feel safe bringing the depth that matters require.

It also challenges us to be present rather than merely punctual. Our focus shifts from watching minutes tick by to ensuring each moment contributes to clarity and resolution.

Finally, it helps us avoid the “shortcuts” that often emerge from artificial time constraints. When we adopt this principle, we give ourselves permission to be thorough while maintaining momentum.

Real-World Application

In a project debrief, instead of saying, “We have half an hour to get through this,” try: “We’ll take the time needed to understand what worked, what didn’t, and what we can learn. Once we’re clear, we’ll move on.”

For 1:1 meetings, rather than saying, “Let’s cover everything in 15 minutes,” frame it as: “Let’s dive into what’s most pressing for you. We’ll take the time it needs and wrap up when we’re both clear.”

Recognizing When “Time Required” Has Been Met

One of the biggest challenges with this approach is knowing when you’ve reached that sweet spot – when a topic has received “all the time it requires” but hasn’t exceeded it. While this judgment will always involve some intuition, there are specific indicators that can help you and your team recognize when you’ve achieved sufficient depth. They are checkpoints rather than checkboxes – not every discussion will need to hit all of them, but they provide a practical framework for assessment:

Clear Decision Points

Have all key stakeholders voiced their thoughts?
Can participants clearly restate main points and decisions?
Are next steps and owners clearly defined?

Diminishing Returns Signals

Discussion is becoming circular
New points are variations of previous ones
Energy has noticeably dropped
Side conversations are emerging

Quality Indicators

Solutions address root causes, not just symptoms
Risks and implementation challenges are considered
The path forward feels robust, not rushed

Emotional Resolution

Tension has been addressed
People seem comfortable with the outcome
Team members appear ready to move forward

Communicating With Your Team

When introducing this approach, you might want to explain that you’re trying to create a culture where depth is valued and brevity is honored when clarity is reached. Make it clear that while you’ll give topics “all the time they require,” you’ll also rely on the team to bring focus and intention to discussions.

Final Thoughts

Time management isn’t about counting minutes—it’s about making moments count. Giving matters “all the time they require, and not a minute more” asks us to be discerning, and responsible for our focus. It respects complexity without letting it run wild, bringing clarity to conversations and depth to decisions.

Try it in your next meeting. And please take a moment to let me know how it goes —not a minute more.

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Learning from others: Reimagining professional development

Every conversation is an unwritten curriculum—if we’re brave enough to read it.

After years of facilitating management and leadership development programs, I’ve witnessed a curious ritual. As the final session winds down, participants invariably gather in a collective moment of reflection. And then it happens—almost like a choreographed performance—someone will rise and declare, with apparent sincerity, “I’ve learned something from every one of you.”

The phrase rings out, well-intentioned but hollow. A polite platitude that sounds meaningful yet means almost nothing. Everyone nods, smiles, perhaps even feels momentarily good. But beneath the surface, no real learning has been transferred, no genuine connection established.

These words have become the participation trophy of group learning—a generic badge of engagement that absolves us from the harder work of truly seeing and acknowledging each other.

What if, instead of this ritualistic statement, we committed to making our learning specific? What if we could articulate exactly what we learned from each person in the room?

The Challenge of Authentic Learning

The problem isn’t intention. Most participants genuinely want to learn, to connect, to grow. But we’ve developed a shorthand of connection that prevents real insight. “I learned something from everyone” becomes a verbal wallpaper—covering up the blank spaces without revealing the true texture of our shared experience.

Consider the richness we’re missing. Learning isn’t a generic transaction. It’s deeply personal. It happens in nuanced moments:

The colleague who stays silent when others rush to speak
The participant who asks the question everyone else was afraid to ask
The individual whose brief anecdote suddenly illuminates a complex concept
The team member whose consistent approach reveals an unexpected problem-solving strategy

A Radical Proposal

What if we transformed our closing ritual? Instead of a blanket statement, each participant would be challenged to articulate one specific learning from every single other participant.

Not a superficial compliment. Not a generic platitude. But a precise observation that says, “I saw you. I learned from you. And here’s exactly how.”

The Anatomy of Real Learning

Imagine the power of hearing:

“When you navigated that conflict scenario, I learned that patience can be a more strategic tool than immediate confrontation.”
“Your hesitation before responding taught me the value of thoughtful reflection over quick reaction.”
“The way you connected those seemingly unrelated data points showed me a new approach to systemic thinking.”

Each statement becomes a mirror, reflecting not just what was said, but how it was experienced.

The Psychological Impact

Such specificity does more than transfer knowledge. It:

Validates individual contributions
Creates a culture of genuine observation
Breaks down the walls of professional politeness
Transforms learning from a passive to an active process

An Invitation

This isn’t just a technique. It’s a philosophy of human interaction. A commitment to seeing beyond the surface, to recognizing that in every professional space, every interaction carries the potential for profound insight.

Your challenge: The next time you’re in a collaborative setting, resist the urge to say “I learned from everyone.” Instead, be prepared to explain exactly what you learned, from whom, and why it matters.

Transition: From Observation to Transformation

The gap between what we say we learn and what we actually learn is more than a semantic nuance—it’s a missed opportunity for genuine human connection. Those polite, generic statements at the end of development programs are not just empty words; they’re symptomatic of a broader organizational malaise: our collective reluctance to engage in meaningful, specific observation.

If we truly want to move beyond performative learning, we must design systems that compel us to see each other—not as placeholders in a corporate narrative, but as complex, nuanced sources of insight. The journey from recognizing our superficial learning habits to implementing a radical framework of intentional observation requires more than good intentions. It demands a fundamental reimagining of how we perceive, capture, and value learning in collaborative spaces.

This is not about adding another layer of bureaucracy to our professional interactions. It’s about stripping away the veneer of politeness to reveal the rich, often unspoken learning that happens in the margins of our collective experiences.

Beyond the Platitude: A Manifesto of Intentional Learning

The Mechanics of Meaningful Reflection

To transform this from concept to practice requires a deliberate approach. We need a structured yet flexible method that turns casual observation into profound insight.

The Learning Capture Framework

1. Immediate Observation

During the program, actively note specific moments
Not just what people say, but how they say it
Observe patterns of behavior, not just isolated incidents

2. Granular Documentation

Create a personal reflection log
Capture precise instances:
- A metaphor that reframed a concept
- A question that exposed a hidden assumption
- A non-verbal reaction that spoke volumes

3. The Specificity Challenge

Finish this sentence for each participant:

“From [Name], I learned specifically that…”

Potential Resistance Points

Participants will likely encounter internal barriers:

Fear of being too personal
Concern about potential judgment
Discomfort with vulnerability
Professional conditioning toward superficial interaction

Overcoming These Barriers

Create a safe, structured environment
Model the behavior as a facilitator
Provide clear guidelines
Emphasize learning as a collaborative, non-evaluative process

The Deeper Purpose

This isn’t about performance evaluation. It’s about:

Recognizing human complexity
Valuing individual contribution
Creating a culture of genuine observation
Transforming professional spaces into places of authentic growth

A Provocation

Imagine a world where “I learned from you” was not a throwaway line, but a carefully crafted, deeply felt acknowledgment of human potential.

Where every interaction becomes an opportunity for mutual understanding.

Where professional development transcends skill acquisition and becomes a journey of human connection.

The Personal Accountability Clause

If you claim to have learned from everyone, you must be prepared to articulate:

What you learned
From whom you learned it
Why it matters
How it will change your approach

Implementation Strategies

1. Individual Reflection

Personal journaling
Structured feedback templates
Post-program reflection sessions

2. Organizational Integration

Build into performance review processes
Create learning capture protocols
Develop facilitation techniques that support deep observation

The Ripple Effect

What begins in a training room can transform:

Team dynamics
Organizational culture
Individual growth trajectories
Interpersonal understanding

Conclusion

In a world increasingly mediated by superficial connections, genuine observation becomes an act of radical humanity. When we move beyond generic statements to precise, heartfelt acknowledgment, we do more than transfer knowledge. We affirm each other’s complexity, we honor individual journeys, and we create the most fundamental currency of human growth: authentic recognition.

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The Problem with “Leading by Example”: Rethinking Exemplarity as Being an Original

Leadership isn’t about setting a model for others to copy. It’s about being an original—sparking uniqueness over imitation.

For as long as I’ve been in management development, there’s one phrase that has never sat right with me: “leading by example.” You hear it everywhere, as if it’s the golden rule for managerial influence. I’ve even found myself repeating it on occasion, but each time I say it, it leaves a strange taste in my mouth. There’s an aversion there—a resistance that I haven’t quite been able to articulate until now. But reading Javier Gomá Lanzón on exemplarity, I started to find some clarity on why I’m uncomfortable with “leading by example.” What I realized is that this concept, while well-meaning, may actually work against the very authenticity and originality that true leadership requires.

Here’s how I got there.

The Initial Dilemma: A Skepticism Toward Leading by Example

The idea of “leading by example” seems straightforward enough: managers are advised to model behaviors they wish to see in their teams, setting a standard through their own actions. This is meant to foster trust and cohesion—if people see you demonstrating the values you espouse, they’re more likely to adopt them, too, right?

But what bothers me is that “leading by example” seems to emphasize performative alignment with a predefined set of behaviors rather than genuine, value-driven originality.

When I say “leading by example,” I feel like I’m advocating for something that might ultimately produce copies rather than individuals. And that’s where it rubs against the grain for me.

Enter a Spanish thinker: Exemplarity as a Call to Be an Original

Then I encountered Gomá Lanzón’s philosophy on exemplarity. He says it’s not about deliberate influence. It’s about being, not demonstrating; it’s an embodied authenticity that invites others to engage with their own values. He emphasizes a form of exemplarity that doesn’t present itself as a model to follow but rather as a presence that others might find inspiring for its genuineness.

The difference is subtle but significant. Where “leading by example” implies a transactional influence—“I show, therefore you do”—Gomá’s vision is organic and centered on integrity. It’s not about setting an example for the sake of others but about living out one’s values authentically and openly. Others may choose to follow, but the intention isn’t to direct or shape them. In fact, the most powerful kind of influence in Gomá’s framework comes from someone simply being an original.

Wrestling with Exemplarity: Being an Original vs. Leading by Example

With this new perspective, I started examining why Gomá’s distinction between “being” and “leading by example” felt so liberating. I realized that “leading by example” subtly promotes imitation. When leaders act as living templates, the focus shifts to emulation rather than self-exploration. This can inhibit the very originality that gives culture its depth. The outcome? A culture of followers rather than individuals, of adherence rather than authenticity.

Being an original, on the other hand, invites others to pursue their own authenticity. Gomá’s exemplarity doesn’t simply permit individuality—it calls for it. It isn’t about transmitting qualities for others to copy but about embodying values that might resonate with others, giving them the courage to explore what they stand for without pressing them into a mold. Here, exemplarity isn’t about direction but inspiration. It’s about existing in such a way that others feel empowered to become more themselves.

Practically Speaking: Exemplarity as a Presence, Not a Performance

Imagine a manager who embodies patience, curiosity, and resilience—not because they’re trying to lead by example but because those qualities are simply part of who they are. They’re not performing patience in meetings or resilience in challenges to set a standard. Instead, they’re living those qualities, creating a subtle but palpable influence that others might find grounding or inspiring. Their presence invites reflection, not imitation.

So, what does this mean for managerial influence? I think it calls for a shift from modeling behaviors to fostering an environment where people feel free to explore their own values. Exemplarity in Gomá’s sense encourages each person to be original—to bring forth qualities that are true to themselves, contributing to the collective culture without mimicking any individual’s traits.

Solving the Riddle: From Leading by Example to Being an Original

Ultimately, Gomá’s perspective helped me solve the riddle of my aversion to “leading by example.” It’s not that leading by example is inherently flawed—it’s that it can all too easily become a form of mimicry, where influence is wielded as a subtle directive rather than a quiet invitation. When we focus on being an original, we embrace an influence that’s not only less coercive but more transformative.

In place of “leading by example,” I’ve come to embrace “being an original.” It might not have the same symmetry, but it has more soul.

Exemplarity, when grounded in originality, invites others into exploration, free to find their values, rather than trying on someone else’s. This kind of influence doesn’t just foster trust—it cultivates the kind of authenticity that creates cultures of real depth and resilience.

The aversion is gone. And in its place, a framework that feels true to what leadership is all about: not creating copies, but inviting others into originality.

Before You Go

These reflections have not only helped me untangle my aversion to “leading by example” but have also clarified my resistance to *authenticity* as a buzzword.

Authenticity, often used to justify polished self-presentation, misses the mark if it’s just about appearing “real” for others to echo. Instead, both being an original and embodying authenticity mean standing as *a voice, not an echo*. This doesn’t aim to create replicas or followers; it’s a call for others to recognize and voice their own originality.

Ultimately, true exemplarity isn’t about providing a model to imitate but a presence that encourages others to uncover, not duplicate, their own. This may be the truest and most lasting kind of influence.

Note:

Javier Gomá Lanzón’s thinking on exemplarity is unraveled over four books covering different dimensions of the topic: Imitación y experiencia, Aquiles en el gineceo, Ejemplaridad pública, and Necesario pero imposible. As far as I know, there are no English translations of his work yet.

[Update 2026: I followed this observation to its logical conclusion—and it led somewhere unexpected. See Abandon All Hope of Mattering.]

Orwell feared oppression. No need, said Huxley, triviality is what makes us irrelevant

From the Foreword to Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public discourse in the age of show business (20th anniversary edition, by Neil Postman, Penguin Books 2006. First edition published in 1985.

We were keeping our eye on 1984. When the year came and the prophecy didn’t, thoughtful Americans sang softly in praise of themselves. The roots of liberal democracy had held. Wherever else the terror had happened, we, at least, had not been visited by Orwellian nightmares.

But we had forgotten that alongside Orwell’s dark vision, there was another–slightly older, slightly less well-known, equally chilling: Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World.

Contrary to common belief even among the educated, Huxley and Orwell did not prophesy the same thing. Orwell warns that we will be overcome by an externally imposed oppression. But in Huxley’s vision, no Big Brother is required to deprive people of their autonomy, maturity and history. As he saw it, people will come to love their oppression, to adore the technologies that undo their capacities to think.

What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one.

Orwell feared those who would deprive us of information. Huxley feared those who would give us so much that we would be reduced to passivity and egoism.

Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be
drowned in a sea of irrelevance.

Orwell feared we would become a captive culture. Huxley feared we would become a trivial culture, preoccupied with some equivalent of the feelies, the orgy porgy, and the centrifugal bumblepuppy.

As Huxley remarked in Brave New World Revisited, the civil libertarians and rationalists who are ever on the alert to oppose tyranny “failed to take into account man’s almost infinite appetite for distractions.” In 1984, Huxley added, people are controlled by inflicting pain. In Brave New World, they are controlled by inflicting pleasure.

In short, Orwell feared that what we hate will ruin us. Huxley feared that what we love will ruin us.

This book is about the possibility that Huxley, not Orwell, was right.

Managers: it’s time to remind yourself why anyone should care

From the raw signal group:

Authors observe that a consequence of the great resignation is that people are walking into new jobs with a different attitude.

They didn’t come asking for meaning, or flavour, or for work to delight them. They came with boundaries and a list of expectations. And, listen: that’s a good thing. It’s extremely healthy for workers to want things like limits on working hours, competitive pay regardless of geography, and an ability to shut off work when they aren’t at work. We should hope that those gains, as uneven as they’ve been, outlast any pandemic or economic cycle.

Those changes are necessary. But they aren’t sufficient. Like a shopping mall food court, we’re surrounded by companies shouting about what a good deal they’re offering. Globally competitive salaries! 4 day work weeks in summer! Free dipping sauce! And in the midst of it, it feels like more people than ever before are finding their work really… bland. Like in the fight to compete for attention, employers have forgotten to build a culture worth fighting for.

So, insisting that we return to the office, to the same-old, just won’t cut it. And assuming that we’re all set because we are already remote or distributed won’t do it either. It’s not so much about the mode of work as it is the moment.

Their suggestion?

It’s time to tell the story again, bosses. Get your house in order on compensation and workload and expectations, for sure. But once you’ve done that, it’s time to remind yourself why anyone should care.

You may find this surprisingly hard at first. Why does your work matter? What impact does it have on the world around you, and why should someone who doesn’t care about the details of your industry give a shit? We don’t mean some sanitized corporate mission statement. We mean your own, real, authentically felt, dare-we-say-it-spicy sense of purpose.

Connect with that story. Tell that story. A modern one, with fresh spices. You want your people to feel it, to put the fire back in your organization. And you’re not gonna get there with the version that’s been sitting at the bottom of the drawer since 2019.

It’s not the overused and abused “Storytelling”. It’s creating clarity for yourself first.