Category: Writing

A Series of Sorts

Patterns emerge in retrospect. Looking back over these past pieces, I see a thread I never planned—each idea flowing naturally into the next, forming an unintended sequence.

It began with seeing management as craft—not a science to master, but a practice to hone. This view led organically to understanding leadership as poetry, shaped more by rhythm and flow than rigid structure. From there, I explored chaos, both external and internal, not as a force to control but as waters to navigate. And then I questioned movement itself—what truly propels people forward? Not external motivation, but the intricate web of motives already at play within us.

And then came time.

Perhaps time was always the underlying current. Clock Time versus Craft Time wasn’t just about scheduling—it was about how we inhabit time itself. Do we push against its flow, or work within its rhythms? Does quality emerge through control, or through finding our natural cadence?

But these explorations reveal something deeper—they haven’t just been about work, leadership, or time. They’ve been about learning to work with my own mind.

 

Two worlds shaped my thinking, each pulling in its own direction. Business and finance taught me to extract value swiftly, to cut to the essence without hesitation. Academia taught me another way—to build ideas methodically, to ground every insight in what came before, to let understanding unfold at its own pace. For years, I felt torn between these approaches, as if my writing had to choose: be swift and incisive, or thorough and precise. As if clarity could only come through efficiency or exhaustiveness, but never both.

Only recently have I understood that my mind charts its own course. My writing, always an attempt to clarify thought, is more art than method. I show up, engage with ideas, and hope inspiration joins me. Above all, I seek to connect, to offer something meaningful to others.

These days, I find myself in a fertile middle ground. I want my writing to be friendly, open, welcoming—to feel like an invitation into a conversation. And yet, it still feels linear, formal, maybe even too academic. I don’t think that tension will disappear overnight, but I wonder if this—pausing now, pulling back the curtain, sharing the process itself—might be the way forward. Maybe by weaving moments of reflection into the fabric of ideas, I can make room for deeper connection while honoring the complexity of thought.

My mind doesn’t follow linear outlines or neat frameworks. Instead, ideas coalesce as connections form, each emerging as another settles into place. At their best, they build upon each other, creating depth—I hope—rather than mere accumulation. Often, the pattern only becomes clear in retrospect—when I pause to see what has been forming all along.

If there’s a unifying thread here, it’s about working with rather than against—with craft, with chaos, with human nature, with time itself. This realization opens new questions:

If time shapes craft, what shapes mastery?

If experience alone isn’t enough, what transforms doing into knowing?

The answer, I suspect, lies in the spaces between action—in what we discover when we pause.

In reflection.

And that’s where I go next.

So, I invite you to pause here with me. To step back, trace the thread, and see where it leads you. Because perhaps, in reflection, we find not just clarity—but connection.

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Go HERE for more Essays.

 

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.

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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.

 

See also my One more time: How do I lead by example?

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

Precise Critiques, Vague Praise: Fixing the Feedback Imbalance

Why is it that when things go wrong, we get detailed feedback – but when things go right, it’s reduced to a hollow “good job”?

Managers are usually precise about what needs to be improved: increase productivity from X to Y, increase conversion rate to Z. But when it comes to recognizing good work, “good job” seems to be the verbal equivalent of a pat on the back. Almost like a parent absentmindedly complimenting a child, as if it’s an automatic response.

It reminds me that, in literature, even great heroes need specific praise to know what made them great. Achilles didn’t hear “well done” for his skills on the battlefield. They praised him for his courage, strategy, and leadership. It’s the details that make the praise meaningful, something to live up to. Good feedback isn’t about lavish praise; it’s about being clear about what we did well.

It’s easy to think, “They get paid for this,” and skip detailed praise. But is a salary enough recognition? If we’re going to be precise about correcting mistakes, we should be equally clear about what went right. It’s not about coddling people or boosting their egos. It’s about reflecting to them the reality of their actions with the same sharpness we use to point out where they fell short.

Vague praise is a missed opportunity. Clarity isn’t reserved for improvement; it’s how we acknowledge and sustain progress.

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Go HERE for more essays.

Be human to human beings

Whether it’s Black Lives Matter, COVID-19, mass shootings, massive firings in some industries, the war in Ukraine, or the war in the Middle East… it is reasonable to expect that any, some, or all of these events -and others- have impacted and still impact the minds and hearts of the people in your charge at work.

I invite you (and keep in mind that I am not beyond imploring or begging) that you do not turn a blind eye to how your people are affected, and that how they are affected impacts their ability to perform. I’m inviting you to be human. Being human to another human being is not a sign of weakness nor does it entail a loss of power.

And why should you?

Well, because they are human. They’re not things.

Call me a master of the obvious and I will say that there is enough evidence to show that managers and business owners often override this with the doctrine of some dead economist to the effect that “everyone is looking for their self-interest” or “employees have contractual obligations”.

That, by the way, is eons away from the other discourse they hold for the gallery: “We’re a family”, “people are our most important asset”, and -wait for it- “We’re all in this together”.

Again, why should you?

Well, because you are human too. As managers and business owners, we work with people, not through people.

We work with what’s there – now. And that changes from day to day as people have successes, are tired, have children, are worried, navigate grief, move from one city to another, go back to school, etc. It also changes based on what is going on in their environments, close and remote.

Over the years I found that the best teachers and the best managers and business owners all work from the same premise: you teach/manage the people in front of you. Not the ones you wish you had, but the ones you have, the ones that are there.

And not only are they different from one another in abilities and readiness, but they are also different from one day to the next. That is who you work with. Every day.

People are struggling.

There is a lot going on and they carry quite a bit from the recent past.

On the odd chance that you feel this might be too touchy-feely for you, I will say this: Emotions exist. They affect what we think about and how we think. The reasonable thing to do is to acknowledge emotions and work with them. To dismiss them altogether is, well, irrational.

So the invitation is this: be human to your fellow human beings, in difficult times and always.

I know you can. I trust you will.

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I originally published this text in the October 2023 issue of my monthly newsletter.

Go HERE for more essays.

Communicating is not talking at people, it’s co-responding

Many responses to my post on communication.

I can’t address all of the conversations here, but I’ll share a quote and answer a question.

The quote was sent by reader Tom who writes

It jumped to mind as I was reading and I wondered if that quote was coming further down in the text.

It didn’t, but it’s a good one, so here it is:

The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place. [1]

My response to Tom was that

I was trying to answer the question: How do I know whether people got or understood what I told or wrote them? And I too often observed in my own life and in conversation with managers that the answer “well, I sent out an email” does not ensure understanding.

The question: How then do I ensure that I understood what the other person is trying to say?

A good place to start is Rapoport’s Rules of Argument:

a list of rules promulgated by the social psychologist and game theorist Anatol Rapoport (creator of the winning Tit-for-Tat strategy in Robert Axelrod’s legendary prisoner’s dilemma tournament).

They are meant to help one put together a “successful critical commentary” as well as “be charitable” to the person you are speaking with. Because the context of the rules is a discussion and possible disagreement, Rapaport calls the person you are talking to “the target”. Here are the rules:

  1. You should attempt to re-express your target’s position so clearly, vividly, and fairly that your target says, “Thanks, I wish I’d thought of putting it that way.”
  2. You should list any points of agreement (especially if they are not matters of general or widespread agreement).
  3. You should mention anything that you have learned from your target.
  4. Only then are you permitted to say so much as a word of rebuttal or criticism. [2]

In my work with managers I often invite them to seek confirmation that they understood what the other person is saying by prefacing the “re-express” with phrases such as “If I heard you correctly, …” or “What I’m hearing you say is…” followed by the “re-express” in one’s own words and not simply a repetition of the other person’s words.

Another way of going at it is by figuring out how the other person’s ideas came about. I hear managers say “I know where you’re coming from”. However, rather than assume that we know, spelling it out allows the other person to confirm that we are indeed correct. Bertrand Russell states it as follows:

It is important to learn not to be angry with opinions different from your own, but to set to work understanding how they come about. If, after you have understood them, they still seem false, you can then combat them much more effectually than if you had continued to be merely horrified. [3]

In other words, conversation is necessary… and as soon as possible. What avoids the talking at is the quick response that seeks confirmation or clarification. Without that response to the original statement or argument, and a response to that response, we simply do not know whether the other party understands what you are trying to say. In the original post, I called this

both parties making themselves co-responsible in creating a shared understanding.

In practice, the way to be co-responsible in creating a shared understanding is to co-respond: to respond to what the other person is trying to say. Communicating is not talking at people, it’s co-responding.

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[1] The quote has recently been attributed to George Bernard Shaw. Apparently William H. Whyte should get the credit.

[2] Daniel C. Dennett, Intuition Pumps and Other Tools for Thinking (2013).

[3] Bertrand Russell, The Art of Philosophizing and other Essays (1942), Essay I: The Art of Rational Conjecture.

 

Go HERE for more essays.

Communication is a process by which all parties make themselves co-responsible for the creation of a shared understanding

We are a few days into the invasion of a sovereign country by another sovereign country… and the senseless deaths that ensue. I’m not one for pronouncements but if we can learn anything from history it is this: if we don’t discuss our differences, if we don’t talk, then the only alternative is violence. This is as true internationally as it is domestically. Technology has only exacerbated this fundamental human tendency. The only way to prevent violence is to learn to express one’s differences and learn to hear and understand the differences of others.

“Communication” is not about how eloquent or smart or well-spoken one is. It’s not about the clever tricks of rhetoric or the slick slide deck. My work as a consultant and a coach is to invite people (I work mostly with managers) to approach communication as

a process by which all parties make themselves co-responsible for the creation of a shared understanding.

I am responsible not only to express my ideas clearly (which requires that they be clear ideas to start with). I am also responsible to ensure that the other party has understood what I was trying to say. Conversely, it is also my responsibility to ensure that I have understood what the other party is trying to say.

This is impossible without dialogue: not only my telling you something and you telling me something, but also my asking you if I got you right and your asking me if you got me right… with the purpose of creating a shared understanding. The outcome is that we have both understood the meaning that each other is trying to convey.

People or parties talking without the express work of creating a shared understanding are at best engaging in turn-taking monologues. They are talking at each other. They are not necessarily talking to each other. There is no dialogue.

And while listening is important and one can learn to do that better, nothing replaces the premise of effective listening: a genuine interest in what the other person has to say.

If you know it all, if you’re the most experienced person in the room, if you’re the most senior person in the room, the smartest person in the room, if you think you have forgotten more about this topic than the other person will ever know then you might be far removed from having a genuine interest in what the other person has to say.

photo by Tina Hartung on Unsplash

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Go HERE for more essays.

We all think we’re great drivers

1.

We all think we’re great drivers

I have lived and worked in many countries and in some of these countries I have lived and worked in many cities. I travel for work, domestically and internationally, and I often rent cars to get to my destination. In other words, I have driven thousands of miles, in hundreds of cities, in tens of countries, and here’s a universal fact: everyone rates themselves as great drivers. It’s not a normal (bell curve) distribution around the “good” mean. Most people think they’re great drivers.

And here’s what I suspect is another universal fact: upon reading the above statistic you thought “well, some people are just not realistic about their driving abilities. I wish they acknowledged it. The roads would be safer”.

What does this have to do with management?

It turns out that several surveys report that 70% of managers rate themselves as “inspiring and motivating”¹. Seventy percent – that is not a normal distribution either. And I know what you’re thinking: “well, some people are just not realistic about their management abilities. I wish they acknowledged that. The workplace would be better.”

And while you ponder on how you fare with respect to other managers, here’s the reality: 65% of employees would forego a pay raise if it they could fire their managers² and 82% find their managers to be uninspiring.

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2.

More numbers

There are 120,000 excess deaths per year attributed to ten workplace conditions³ and they cause approximately $190 billion in incremental health care costs. That makes the workplace the fifth leading cause of death in the U.S. — higher than Alzheimer’s, higher than kidney disease.⁴

I’m going to list them here. As you read through the list, please identify the ones that are directly within a manager’s purview:

  1. Being unemployed sometimes as a result of a layoff.
  2. Not having health insurance.
  3. Working shifts and also working longer periods, e.g., ten or twelve-hours shifts.
  4. Working long hours in a week (e.g., more than 40 hours per week).
  5. Job insecurity (resulting from colleagues being laid off or fired).
  6. Facing family-to-work and work-to-family spillover or conflict.
  7. Having relatively low control over one’s job e.g., workload.
  8. Facing high work demands such as pressure to increase productivity and to work quickly.
  9. Being in a work environment that offers low levels of social support (e.g., not having close relationships with co-workers.)
  10. Working in a setting in which job- and employment-related decisions seem unfair.

In my leadership programs as well as in my coaching conversations with managers we often go over these items, identify the ones that are directly under one’s control as a manager and distinguish them from those that are more broadly defined by the organization’s policies and cultural norms.

There are two that most often stand out:

6. Facing family-to-work and work-to-family spillover or conflict.

7. Having relatively low control over one’s job e.g., workload.

#7 speaks to intrinsic motivation. As per data from McKinsey & Company, when employees are intrinsically motivated, they are 32% more committed and 46% more satisfied with their job and perform 16% better.

This makes sense: it is easier to derive satisfaction from the work itself⁵, to feel good or fulfilled about a job well done, when we have autonomy over the work we do. In other words, it’s hard to experience the work as “my” work when there is little to none of “me” in it.

This begs the question: Am I the type of manager who tells people what to do (and how to do it) or am I the type of manager who provides clarity on the expected outcome and allow for people to attain that outcome on the manner they see fit. And just as in the case of the quality of one’s driving, we should focus not on what we think but on what our direct reports experience.

Spillovers

We come to #6: Facing family-to-work and work-to-family spillover or conflict. For now, I want to focus on the latter. The short version is this: the way you treat your direct reports has an impact not only on them but on their families and the communities to which they belong. A person frustrated at work necessarily carries that frustration with them in their communities – it spills over. The longer version of this point is that what is even more detrimental than the frustration we experience at work is the effort we put in trying to “compartmentalize” and not have it spill over. Unfortunately, it always does. If not to others around you, at the very least to your own health.

Managers have the ability to impact the lives of their direct reports in significant far-reaching ways. The way they treat people day-to-day over a period of time has an impact on their psyche, on their body, on their families, and on their communities.

In other words: your manager is more important to your health than your primary care doctor.

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3.

When we look back at our experiences at work we can all acknowledge that our managers have played a significant role in making our lives somewhere on a continuum:

miserable – tolerable – acceptable – enjoyable – inspirational

And once we acknowledge this for ourselves as someone’s direct report then we as managers can at least be deliberate about what we want our direct reports to experience. And I’m not suggesting that “inspirational” is what all managers should be aiming for, if only for the simple fact that not all direct reports want to be inspired. A lot of folks are fine with “acceptable” and “enjoyable” (“tolerable” entails some form of discomfort and I’m assuming that no one wants to be “miserable”). And if you’re deliberate about what you want your direct reports to experience you can then identify

  1. Ways in which you will carry that out as well as
  2. Some means by which to identify whether your direct reports are there: your own means (ones that befit the people on your team and the context in which they work) rather than the general and generic corporate engagement survey.⁶

I acknowledge, as I did earlier, that the workplace experience is affected by company policies and culture. It is also nonetheless affected by how managers treat their direct reports.

I’m not talking about the one-time, the extraordinary, the heroic, the bandied-about in the company’s newsletter.⁷ I’m talking about the every day, the day in and day out, over the course of weeks, months and years. It’s not what you think you’re doing or the impact you think you’re having, it’s about what your direct reports experience.

In this regard I believe that people have a misguided sense of legacy when they think it’s about the accomplishments that people are going to remember about them. In reality, what we carry with us after a manager leaves, what stays with us after they are gone, is how they treated us, and how they made us feel.⁸

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4.

So, how’s your driving?

 

footnotes:
  1. “Why frontline workers are disengaged”, McKinsey Quarterly, March 2, 2016.
  2. Casserly, Meghan, “Majority Of Americans Would Rather Fire their Boss Than Get A Raise”, Forbes, October 17, 2012.
  3. Cavaiola, Alan A., “Is Your Job Killing You? Literally Killing You?”, Psychology Today.
  4. McGregor, Jena, ”This professor says the workplace is the fifth leading cause of death in the U.S.”, The Washington Post, March 22, 2018. This reference and the previous one are both drawn from Jeffrey Pfeffer’s book, Dying for a Paycheck: How Modern Management Harms Employee Health and Company Performance—and What We Can Do About It, Harper Collins, 2018.
  5. As distinct from the outcome of the work: recognition, acknowledgement, salary, etc.
  6. I want the book to be a “could” book rather than a “should” book. The purpose is to make the reader think and come to their own conclusions. There are enough management books that tell you what you should do and the challenge with these prescriptions is that they might have been effective for the person writing the book but management is contextual, so the prescription might only work if you find yourself in the very same circumstances as the author of the book. On the other hand, you could think about things you have not thought about before, think in a different way about things you have already thought about, and/or be invited to re-think things you have thought about a while back when your circumstances were different and maybe you also were different.
  7. Nor am I talking about, as I shared in an earlier post, what we do and the example we think we give, but also (and perhaps more importantly) who we are to them.
  8. As per the Maya Angelou poem.

 

These are thoughts on the book I am writing. They were first delivered to readers of my free, monthly newsletter. It’s easy to subscribe… and unsubscribe.

 

Go HERE for more essays.

When in doubt, draw a distinction

By far the most substantial piece of content I read recently is from Jay Rosen. He is a press critic who writes about the media and politics. He is a professor at the School of Journalism at New York University.

Here is how it starts:

And here are some of the distinctions he draws in this Twitter thread:

  • Public vs. audience
  • Journalism vs. the media
  • Truth-seeking vs. refuge-seeking
  • Political vs. politicized
  • Issues vs. troubles
  • Ritual vs. transmission
  • Expect vs. predict
  • Subscription vs. membership

He says that

For distinctions to work, the terms have to be sufficiently close that prying them apart clears space for thought. If I write, “bending is not the same as breaking,” well, who said it was? That one is going nowhere. But “naked is not the same as nude” is an idea with legs.

It’s not just semantics. Well, it is, but it’s more than that. It’s a show of clarity of ideas in your field of endeavor. In his case, it’s media and politics.

And it occurs in all fields.

Just last week, I bumped into a few more instances:

  1. My friend and colleague Ed Carvalho invited us to draw a distinction between intelligence and intellect;
  2. And then this one in the Harvard Business Review between habit and routine:

When we fail at forming new patterns of behavior, we often blame ourselves, rather than the bad advice we read from someone who doesn’t really understand what can and cannot be a habit.
A habit is a behavior done with little or no thought, while a routine involves a series of behaviors frequently —and intentionally— repeated. A behavior has to be a regularly performed routine before it can become a habit at all.
The problem is that many of us try to skip the “routine” phase.

There are other distinctions that Rosen does not discuss in his thread, including

  • Lying vs. bullshitting
  • Experience vs. expertise
  • Exit, voice, and loyalty
  • Information overload vs. filter failure

Anyone who took part in one of my leadership development programs will have heard me discuss exit, voice, “loyalty”/conformity, and sabotage as a way to distinguish how different people react differently to finding themselves in conflict situations.

The take-aways from this piece?

  1. When in doubt, draw a distinction;
  2. Doing so is a way to manifest that you are a thinker – that you don’t take things at face value but you do reflect on them and come out with your own thoughts;
  3. Drawing distinctions is also a manifestation of where you put your attention, that is, what your field of endeavor really is.

And since a lot of readers of this newsletter are managers then it begs the question: are your distinctions mostly about the domain of expertise that preceded your becoming a manager or are they about management itself?

The content of this post is an edited version of an entry in my free, monthly newsletter in which I share my own writing as well as links to articles and research on management, leadership, and strategy. It’s easy to subscribe… and unsubscribe.

One more time: How do I lead by example?

You don’t. You never do.

Leading by example is based on a faulty assumption: that people will see only the behavior you want them to see and follow only the behavior you want them to follow.

News flash: the people who work with you see everything.

They see not only what you want them to see but they also see what you don’t want them to see.

They see not only what you do but they also see what you don’t do and what you choose not to do.

They see what you choose to do or not to do and to whom.

They see what you choose to do or not to do and for whom.

As a matter of fact, the more time they spend with you, the more clearly you reveal yourself to them. The longer they observe you, the less what you say matters. What matters more are your actions – and specifically how consistent they are over time.

They see when and how often you tell them what to do.

They see when and how often you ask for their opinion.

They see when and how often you admit not knowing something.

They see when and how often you admit you made a mistake.

They see when and how often you apologize… and when and how often you apologize in public when you offended in public.

They see when, how often, and how well you listen.

They see when and how often you praise in public. And how specific your praise is: not the anemic “good job!” but rather a vigorous acknowledgment of what exactly a team member does well and how that contributes to the good of the team.

In addition to being based on a faulty assumption, “leading by example” might also be caused by attribution bias (you believe that your behavior has caused theirs, that your “leading” has caused their “following”) or by buying into the narrative of the “heroic manager” (what I call the “Gandhi complex”). But that will have to wait for another post.

 

These are thoughts on the book I am writing. They were first delivered to readers of my free, monthly newsletter. It’s easy to subscribe… and unsubscribe.

 

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

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

 

Loss

In memory of my mother’s passing, I’m paraphrasing a passage from a book by Parker Palmer. It expresses exactly what I experienced. I share this as a way to reach out to other people who are dealing with loss and grief.

A few years ago, my mother died. She was more than a good person, and the months and years following her death were a long, hard winter for me. But in the midst of that ice and loss, I came into a certain clarity that I lacked when she was alive. I saw something that had been concealed when the abundance of her love surrounded me. I saw how I had relied on her to help me cushion life’s harsher blows.

When she could no longer do that, my first thought was, “Now I must do it for myself.” But as time went on, I saw a deeper truth: it never was my mother absorbing those blows but a larger and deeper grace that she taught me to rely on.

When my mother was alive, I confused the teaching with the teacher.

My teacher is gone now, but the grace is still there. And my clarity about that fact has allowed her teaching to take deeper root in me. Winter clears the landscape, however brutally, giving us a chance to see ourselves and each other more clearly, to see the very ground of our being.