Vulnerability and judgement calls
Last weekend, I went to St Andrews see Gordon Brown talk about his new book, The Future Starts With Us. The book and the man himself are disarmingly clear about how a new world order is linked to the breakdown of community. Whether you agree with his diagnosis or not (I admired rather than 100% bought in to his arguments), the clarity and credibility of the man are powerful.
Somehow, though, I thought he was at his best on the night when, just occasionally, his reflections became a bit more vulnerable and reflective. At the risk of ignorantly over-analysing, these always came with a tiny downward-shift in his eyeline and bow of the head, followed immediately by him refocusing the conversation towards his big vision and prescription. I left wanting more of that because it was so powerful.
I’m fascinated by the vulnerability of leaders: how much of it they choose to show, how they deploy it, even whether they acknowledge it at all. Genuine, measured vulnerability is – I think – just about the most impactful pillar of brilliant leadership. Sometimes in a matter of mere milliseconds, leaders – through their vulnerability – can give transformational perspective, compassion and empathy to a situation.
Vulnerability gives hierarchy some humanity. It allows others to feel safe enough to also be vulnerable, deepening conversations and connections. It makes people and situations 3D. It turns a decision into a judgement call.
The supreme skill of the best leaders is knowing how and when to be vulnerable. We do not, for goodness’ sake, want people to ‘bring their whole selves to work’. We do, however, need people – particularly those who are accountable for lots of people and resources – to bring enough of themselves to help them explain what they’re all about and how they’re going lead the rest of us to (hopefully) a better, clearer, more profitable or more impactful place.
Some of my biggest professional regrets revolve around not being vulnerable enough: with myself, with my bosses and with my peers. I’ve too often tried to find clarity and credibility from making and communicating ‘decisions’ even though there’s never enough data, evidence, consensus, precedent or advice to make a perfect decision.
Too often, I wished I’d had the courage to talk through the often imperfect, knotty, warty, no-easy-answer reality of decisions: that they’re only ever judgement calls.
Reflecting, when it feels right, on what goes into a judgement call – including reflecting if they’re turned out to be good or bad ones – is critical to vulnerable leadership. And vulnerability is critical to credible leadership.