Reflections on Leadership

The Price of Feeling Special

Leadership Drift This Week

The Price of Feeling Special

When we choose someone to lead us, we must ask: What are we willing to excuse in a leader because we believe that leader will do something for us?

The question shifts our attention from the person we elect to the person doing the electing. It asks us to examine not only a leader's character, but our own. Have we become so invested in what someone promises us that we are willing to overlook what that person does to others?

We like to believe we choose leaders based on their judgment, integrity, experience, and ability to get things done. We say character matters. We expect honesty and want accountability. We want someone who understands the responsibility that comes with power.

Then someone comes along who makes us feel special.

They tell us we are the real Americans, the forgotten workers, the people who built this country, the ones who have been cheated, ignored, or disrespected. They recognize our grievances, give our frustrations a target, and promise that things will be different when they are in charge.

They make complicated problems sound simple. They make restraint sound like weakness and aggression sound like strength. They insist the rules are rigged, that anyone who questions them is an enemy, and that only someone willing to break the usual constraints can set things right.

If we believe they are fighting for us, we may start to excuse what we would otherwise condemn.

The insults become entertainment. The lies become strategy. The corruption becomes a necessary inconvenience. The cruelty becomes toughness. The attacks on independent institutions become proof that the leader is finally taking action.

We stop asking whether the behavior is acceptable and start asking whether it benefits us.

That is where the problem begins. Not simply with the conduct of the person seeking power, but with others' willingness to make that conduct acceptable.

The strongman's appeal

Strongman politics starts by offering people what they want: security, prosperity, belonging, revenge, recognition, or the sense that someone is finally in control.

Those desires are not inherently wrong. People have legitimate reasons to be frustrated with institutions that fail them, leaders who disappoint them, and systems that seem more responsive to the powerful than to everyone else. A person who feels economically insecure or culturally dismissed is not foolish for wanting change.

The problem begins when the desire for change makes us careless about the person promising it.

A strongman presents himself as the answer to a world that feels out of control. He claims unusual abilities, demands unusual loyalty, and treats ordinary restraints as obstacles to his mission. He promises to protect his supporters while branding others as threats.

He invites his followers to believe the usual standards no longer apply. They are different. The circumstances are exceptional. The stakes are too high to worry about conventional rules.

They promise to solve a problem, then use that problem's importance to justify behavior that would otherwise call his judgment into question. The more urgent the promise, the less scrutiny he expects. The greater the claimed threat, the more freedom he demands.

The promise of exceptional leadership becomes an excuse for exceptional misconduct.

A leader who insists only he can fix the problem also asks us to believe the usual checks on his power don't apply. A leader who treats criticism as betrayal makes accountability difficult before he even exercises power. A leader who portrays entire groups of people as enemies teaches his followers to see their suffering as an acceptable cost of victory.

This is not strength in any meaningful leadership sense.

Strength is not the freedom to do whatever one wants. It is the capacity to exercise power responsibly, especially when doing so is difficult or inconvenient.

A leader who cannot tolerate criticism, acknowledge mistakes, or accept limits is not demonstrating extraordinary leadership. He is demonstrating why limits matter.

We should be particularly skeptical when someone asks us to judge his leadership by what he promises to accomplish while asking us to disregard how he treats people along the way. How a person exercises power is inseparable from whether we can trust them with it.

The excuses we make

We rarely accept everything a leader does. We negotiate with ourselves.

I don't like how he speaks, but he gets things done.

I know he lies, but the other side lies, too.

I don't approve of his behavior, but at least he's fighting for us.

I wish he would show more compassion, but we have bigger problems to solve.

I don't agree with everything he says, but nobody is perfect.

Each statement can sound reasonable in isolation. Leaders are imperfect. Political choices involve trade-offs. People can disagree on policy while remaining committed to their country. No candidate will satisfy every voter on every issue. But accepting imperfection is different from excusing a pattern of misconduct.

A policy disagreement is not dishonesty. A difficult decision is not corruption. A forceful personality is not cruelty. An imperfect record is not the same as contempt for the rules that make accountable government possible.

We can use the language of reasonable compromise to avoid making an unreasonable one. We tell ourselves we are being practical when we may actually be abandoning a principle because it has become inconvenient.

If a leader's dishonesty helps our side, do we still care about honesty? If a leader attacks people we dislike, do we still believe in human dignity? If a leader undermines a safeguard that might protect our opponents today, do we understand that the same safeguard may be needed to protect us tomorrow?

Our principles mean little if they apply only when convenient.

Loyalty is a particularly effective excuse because it lets us treat compromise as a virtue. We tell ourselves that we are standing by our people, refusing to surrender, or remaining faithful to a cause. But loyalty is not the same as obedience.

Loyalty to a country does not require loyalty to every person who holds office. Loyalty to a political party does not require defending every action it takes. Loyalty to a leader does not require surrendering our judgment.

In fact, sometimes the most responsible thing a loyal person can do is refuse to defend wrongdoing.

If we care about an institution, we must care about what it becomes. If we care about a country, we must care about the standards that govern it. If we care about a leader's stated mission, we must question whether the leader's conduct serves that mission or merely serves the leader.

Otherwise, loyalty becomes a convenient excuse to look away. And looking away is not a neutral act when our support helps someone retain power.

When winning becomes more important than what is right

Once politics becomes a contest in which the other side must be defeated at any cost, character becomes negotiable. Rules become optional. Truth becomes a weapon rather than a shared obligation.

People who raise concerns about their own side are treated as liabilities, while those who excuse misconduct are celebrated as team players.

The immediate reward is solidarity. We belong to a group that is fighting back. We have someone to blame, someone to rally behind, and someone who promises that our grievances will finally be addressed.

The long-term cost is more difficult to see.

We weaken the standards that protect us from abuse. We teach leaders they can get away with misconduct as long as their supporters believe they are getting something in return. We make it easier for the next leader to go further because the previous leader's behavior has already been accepted.

Every excuse establishes a precedent. Every time we tolerate dishonesty because it is politically useful, we make honesty less consequential. Every time we excuse the abuse of power because the target is someone we dislike, we make it easier for the abuse to repeat. Every time we treat accountability as an attack on our side, we make it harder to hold anyone accountable.

These choices do more than protect one individual. They change the conditions under which future leaders operate.

A leader learns from what supporters will tolerate. Political organizations learn from what their members will defend. Institutions learn from whether their rules are enforced. The people who might otherwise challenge misconduct learn whether doing so carries a cost.

What begins as an exception can become an expectation. What once would have disqualified a candidate can become a familiar feature of political life.

This is one way democratic institutions become vulnerable. They depend on more than laws and formal procedures. They depend on people who are willing to uphold standards even when those standards frustrate their immediate interests.

Rules cannot protect a society if the people responsible for enforcing them decide that the rules matter only when their side is losing.

Elections alone cannot guarantee responsible leadership. Elections give citizens the power to choose representatives and replace them. The quality of that choice depends, in part, on whether voters will judge candidates by more than the promises made to their own group.

We cannot expect leaders to respect standards we ourselves are willing to discard when they become inconvenient.

Leadership must strengthen people, not diminish them

Leadership is a responsibility before it is a position.

Holding power does not automatically make someone a leader worth following. A title can provide authority. An election can provide a mandate. Neither guarantees sound judgment, integrity, or concern for the people affected by a leader's decisions.

Good leadership does not require universal agreement. It does not mean avoiding difficult decisions or pretending competing interests can always be reconciled. Responsible leaders sometimes have to disappoint people. They may have to tell their supporters things they do not want to hear.

However, a fundamental difference exists between asking people to confront difficult realities and teaching them to despise other people. Holding someone accountable is different from humiliating them. Defending a legitimate interest differs from insisting that only certain people deserve consideration.

Leadership must help people contribute, develop, disagree, and participate without surrendering their dignity. It should help people see more clearly, exercise better judgment, and meet their responsibilities more effectively.

This standard applies to more than a leader's stated intentions. It applies to the methods used to pursue them and the consequences those methods produce.

A leader may promise security while making people more fearful. A leader may promise strength while encouraging dependence. A leader may claim to represent ordinary people while teaching them that their worth depends on belonging to the right group and having someone powerful to defend them.

We must evaluate leadership not only by the outcomes it promises, but also by the behavior it rewards, the relationships it creates, and the people it leaves diminished.

Anti-leadership depends on humiliation, fear, or manufacturing enemies. It concentrates power by diminishing people.

Sometimes the targets are political opponents. Sometimes they are immigrants, minorities, journalists, public servants, or anyone who questions the leader's account of reality. Sometimes they are the very people who support the leader, encouraged to trade their independent judgment for the reassurance that someone else will take care of everything.

The targets may change. The underlying pattern does not. A leader who needs people to feel inferior, frightened, or dependent to maintain power is not strengthening them. And if we support such a leader because we believe the arrangement benefits us, we become participants in the bargain.

We may not have created the behavior. We may not approve of every action. We may even privately dislike the person we support. But if we keep excusing conduct that violates our stated principles because we expect to gain from it, we must be honest about our role in sustaining it.

We should not confuse responsibility with equal blame. The person who abuses power is responsible for that abuse. The person who enables it has a different responsibility. Recognizing our own role does not absolve the leader. It helps us understand what we can do to change the conditions that allow the behavior to continue.

Responsibility does not end with the person holding office. It extends to the people who give that person power, the institutions that enable its use, and the people who decide whether misconduct will carry a consequence.

The midterms are an opportunity to correct course

Midterms are often treated as a referendum on the president. They also let us examine what we have permitted, what we have learned, and what we want our institutions to do next.

A vote cannot reverse every bad decision, instantly restore public trust, repair damaged relationships, or undo the consequences of irresponsible leadership. Nor does replacing one group of officeholders guarantee that the next group will govern well.

Democratic government gives citizens a mechanism to respond when leaders fail to meet their responsibilities. Elections let voters reconsider who is exercising power and shift the balance among government institutions.

That opportunity means something only if we use it thoughtfully.

Don't evaluate a candidate solely by how effectively they attack the people you dislike. Examine the person's judgment, conduct, qualifications, and record. Ask whether promises are credible, whether claims withstand scrutiny, and whether the candidate respects the obligations that come with public office.

Do not excuse racism, bigotry, misogyny, dishonesty, corruption, or cruelty because you expect a personal benefit. Do not confuse confidence with competence, aggression with courage, or loyalty with the willingness to overlook wrongdoing.

Do not assume that a candidate deserves your support because it is that person's turn. Do not assume that a candidate deserves your opposition simply because of a label.

Examine the evidence. Consider the consequences. Apply standards you would be willing to defend if the political circumstances were reversed.

It is relatively easy to demand accountability from people we oppose. It is harder to apply the same standard when doing so might cost our preferred candidate an election or our preferred party its power. But a principle that disappears when it becomes costly is not much of a principle. It is a preference.

We must also consider people whose interests are less visible than our own. Those with the fewest resources often have the least ability to absorb the consequences of bad decisions. A policy that inconveniences one person may threaten another person's livelihood, safety, or access to essential services.

Responsible citizenship requires us to consider those consequences, even when the people affected are not part of our immediate circle.

This does not mean abandoning our own interests or assuming that every policy must benefit everyone equally. It means recognizing that our interests are not the only interests that matter.

You do not have to agree with everyone to recognize their dignity. You don't have to share everyone's priorities to acknowledge that their interests matter. You do not have to abandon your self-interest to understand that a society cannot remain healthy if everyone is encouraged to care only about themselves.

The vote is a personal choice with public consequences. It is one way we communicate what we are willing to accept from our leaders. It is one way we reward responsible conduct, reject irresponsible conduct, and help determine whether public power will be subject to meaningful accountability.

We must take that responsibility seriously.

What will we excuse?

We all have interests and loyalties. We all want to believe that the people and institutions we support are worthy of our confidence.

There is nothing wrong with wanting a better life, a more secure future, a government that works, or leaders who understand our frustrations. Those are reasonable expectations.

The danger lies in allowing those expectations to suspend our judgment.

When we decide our preferred leader can lie, demean, threaten, or abuse power because we believe the outcome will benefit us, we choose more than a candidate. We choose the standards we are willing to live by.

We decide that some people deserve less dignity. We decide that some dishonesty is tolerable, that some abuses of power are acceptable, and that accountability matters only until it threatens someone we want to win.

We must not be surprised when those standards eventually become the standards by which we ourselves are treated.

The person we excuse today may harm us tomorrow. The institution we allow to weaken today may be the one we need tomorrow. The rights we dismiss as someone else's concern may become our own concern when circumstances change.

These are practical consequences, not moral abstractions. When we weaken the safeguards that restrain power, we cannot assume that the resulting power will always be exercised by someone we trust. When we normalize mistreating others, we make that treatment easier to justify when circumstances or targets change.

The question matters beyond any single election.

What are we willing to excuse in a leader because we believe that leader will do something for us?

It is not enough to ask whether a leader is on our side. We must ask what that leader is doing with the power we have entrusted to them, who bears the consequences, and whether the conduct we are defending is consistent with the principles we claim to hold.

We must be willing to recognize when loyalty becomes an excuse, when self-interest becomes indifference, and when the desire to win makes us careless about what winning costs.

The world does not become less crooked simply because we have found someone willing to fight on our behalf. Sometimes the person promising to straighten things out is simply asking us to accept a different kind of crookedness.

Our responsibility is to recognize the difference, and that recognition must lead to something more than disapproval.

We can question, speak, organize, serve, hold people accountable, and refuse to participate in normalizing wrongdoing. We can insist that the people who represent us meet standards that go beyond making us feel powerful or special. We can reconsider our support when a leader's conduct contradicts the principles we claim to value.

We can also examine the reasoning we use to defend our choices. When we hear ourselves saying the other side is worse, the circumstances are exceptional, or the ends justify the means, we can stop and ask whether we are making a sound judgment or simply protecting a decision we don't want to reconsider.

That is not always comfortable. It requires us to accept that we may have been mistaken, that loyalty may have clouded our judgment, and that the person we supported may not be the person we thought we were supporting.

Responsibility requires that of us. We cannot demand honesty from our leaders while refusing to be honest with ourselves.

Your vote is not the only tool you have to correct the world's flaws. It is, however, one of your most consequential tools, provided you use it.

Use it with your eyes open. Use it with a clear understanding of what is at stake. Use it with enough humility to question your own assumptions and enough courage to hold your own side accountable.

Ask what that leader is willing to do to others, what they expect you to excuse, and what kind of country your acquiescence helps create.

The character of a leader matters. So does the character we demonstrate when we choose one.

Drift Pattern of the Week:

Weak Accountability

Weak Accountability occurs when people are not held to consistent standards because their position, influence, or perceived value makes challenging them uncomfortable or inconvenient.

Inside organizations, it shows up when high performers get exceptions, executives avoid consequences, or employees who raise concerns are treated as disloyal.

Leaders often overlook this pattern because exceptions can seem justified by urgency, business results, or the person's importance to the organization.

Left unaddressed, selective accountability becomes an informal operating standard. People learn that consequences depend less on what they do than on who they are and how much influence they possess.

Leadership Practice

Before granting an exception to someone on your team, ask yourself: Would I accept the same behavior from someone with less influence? If not, examine what justifies the difference. Selective standards teach people what the organization truly rewards.

Diagnostic Question

If your employees compared the consequences influential leaders face with those everyone else faces, would they conclude that accountability applies equally?

From My Desk

A recurring challenge is the gap between the standards leaders announce and the standards they enforce. Most organizations have policies, values, and expectations. IF applying them consistently becomes inconvenient, problems arise.

A senior executive delivers exceptional results but damages relationships. A high-performing manager disregards established procedures. A trusted colleague repeatedly violates agreed-upon expectations. Each time, the organization must decide whether the person's contribution justifies an exception.

These decisions communicate more than leaders may realize. People watch what happens after a violation, particularly when the person responsible has influence. They learn which expectations are firm, which are negotiable, and whose behavior is beyond scrutiny.

Over time, those lessons become part of the culture. Leaders cannot build accountability simply by asking people to take responsibility. They must demonstrate that responsibility applies to them, too.