How Your Lazy and Lousy Leadership Language May Be Tanking Your Influence with Others

August 8, 2023

I graduated from college in 1991 and landed in central Minnesota to start my professional career as a k-12 teacher and coach. Since I knew few people besides those I worked with, friendships emerged through my coworkers. Many of them had also made big moves for their teaching positions, so we naturally became like a second family to each other. It was easy to ascribe to the phrase: 


“We are like family here.”


While our intentions were good in thinking about my colleagues as family, I grew to realize that phrase was problematic.


Years later, I worked for a boss who regularly espoused that exact phrase, “We're like family.”

man covering his mouth in surprise

That was all lovely until the organization went through a few bumps and the cultural implication at the time became more combative with a domineering fist at the helm barking out orders to help out “the family.”



I didn't fully appreciate the connection until I read Sharone Bar-David's book Trust Your Canary: Every Leader's Guide to Taming Workplace Incivility. She writes in one of her articles:


“At the heart of this belief lies the notion that the closeness and caring that characterize family life allow members of the ‘workplace family’ to cross colleagues’ personal boundaries without being hurtful or inappropriate.”


Her perspective motivated me to eliminate this phrase from my vocabulary. While I still have close relationships with the people I serve, I've stopped short in recent years from thinking about (or espousing) them as actual family.


The Problem with Incongruency


Many of our everyday language traps result from habits that don’t actually align with our intentions. This results in an incongruency. When you and I are incongruent, we project confusion and doubt to others.


The examples below are the most common phrases I regularly encounter when language doesn't match what's intended. I'm still working to eliminate some of these phrases I've said myself.


As many of us discover, the leadership development journey is as much about what to stop as it is about where to start.


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“Frankly…” or “To be honest…”


A common example of incongruent language is prefacing what's about to be said with “Frankly…” or the closely related “To be honest…” Most of the time, when this is said, the intention is to emphasize candor.


Unfortunately, the listener sometimes hears the opposite. A sudden emphasis of candor may leave the other party wondering what changed. When I notice someone say, “To be honest…” during a conversation, I find myself wondering if they've been honest up until that point.


Skip the doubt and drop this qualifying language. If you notice yourself saying this a lot, you might ask yourself:


“Am I actually providing as much candor as I claim?"


Hollow Apologizing


I most regularly see unnecessary apologies at the start of a formal meeting or presentation when something unexpected occurs. It might sound something like this:


“I want to apologize in advance if I miss a few things in this presentation. Jon was supposed to present this section, but he's unexpectedly out today…I just got the material this morning. I'm not really the expert on this, so I hope you'll forgive me if there's missing information or if this leaves you confused.”


Hey, if it's just you and a few colleagues you know well, no big deal, right?


Yet, I've seen it happen often when someone opens with language similar to the above in front of an executive team or board of directors. I begin to doubt the presenter's credibility when I hear this kind of opening.


By all means, apologize if you've done something wrong or errored, but don't dig yourself into a hole before you've even started. Very few people care what preparation didn't quite go according to plan.


Instead, skip the unnecessary apology, give yourself a pep talk, and show up to serve, even if you did get the slides just an hour earlier.


Side Note: A close cousin of the above is spending inordinate amounts of time troubleshooting technology problems in front of your audience. Always arrive early to set up your tech and have a backup plan. If the technology fails and you can't resolve it in 15 seconds while on the game field, move on and adapt. 


“What we came up with…”


We all received an assignment or project that we weren't super excited about but got charged with delivering. I regularly recall presentations in school where a fellow student started a project presentation with, “OK, here's what we came up with…” To me, this phrasing implies throwing something together at the last minute.


That may work fine in your college marketing course, but it's an odd way to start a professional interaction. And yet, I've heard many proposals over the years begin with, “Here's what we came up with…” 


Oddly, most of the time, the person saying it has easily met or exceeded expectations. Still, either out of habit or their lack of personal interest in the topic, their language could be better.


If, indeed, it's the case that you're not as excited about the project as your stakeholder, I'm reminded of this quote from Susan David


“Emotions are data, not directions.”


Just because the work isn't compelling doesn't mean you must announce it. It's about who you are serving, not you.


What's better? Keep it simple and start with, “Here's my proposal…” or “After a detailed analysis, we're making several recommendations…”


Does anybody have any questions?


Like many leaders, I've attended more meetings and presentations in my career than I could count. A majority have been helpful in some way. And many of them ended with this:


“Does anybody have any questions?”


Well-intended? Sure. After all, don't you want to solicit questions?


Yes, but how you do it is critical.


I've often seen the “Does anybody have any questions?” combined with a somewhat nervous glancing around the room, odd facial expressions, and occasionally walking away without saying more. Sometimes, body language suggests that this “question” was merely intended as a segue to the next item on the agenda.


If questions are present, you want to convey that you're ready and willing to respond. I often say, “Who has the first question?” Not only does that wording invite interaction, but it also portrays confidence. Be sure also to provide time for people to think before they respond (the teacher in me recommends 8 seconds). If you only hear silence, follow up with “A question I'm commonly asked is…” that reinforces a key message.


Either way, assume your audience have questions and demonstrate that you are ready and willing to engage.


Self-Congratulatory Language


I regularly listen to podcasts while working out or traveling to expand my perspectives and thinking on timely topics. The hosts on my playlist are all very knowledgeable and highly experienced. 


Many of them also start the episodes explaining how awesome and helpful the forthcoming conversation will be with so-and-so. I typically 1.75X through that noise to get to the good stuff, but it makes me cringe a bit each time I hear someone telling me how to feel about what I am about to experience instead of allowing me to come to a positive conclusion on my own. 


We all need to market our work, but how you do it is critical.


Rather than, “This is some of our best work ever,” or “I know that you're just going to love this,” or using anything containing the phrases “value bomb” or “blown away,” consider a different approach.


Donald Miller, the bestselling author of 
Building a Story Brand, said this recently on one of his latest podcasts that hit a homerun: 


“Insecure People talk about themselves. People who are confident talk about others. Demonstrate through your language that you understand the problem the other party faces, and then explain how you can help address it. If you talk about yourself, do so in the context of how it helps your stakeholder get to where they need to go.”


When it's essential to highlight your credibility, make the claim stronger by citing a respected third party. When my work becomes relevant in a dialogue with someone who doesn't know me, I'll sometimes offer this:


“Google Analytics ranks our HPG site as the #1 search result for “Leadership Team Performance” in the United States.”


The implication? A respected entity other than me says that my work is helpful for campus leaders who want to improve.


Virtually every leader has third-party examples they can point to. Spend a few minutes surfacing your go-to examples to frame your work well.


Insensitive Phrasing


We've all used language that may have seemed fine but landed with another person very differently. Leaders should be especially vigilant about their references to faith, gender, culture, or other dehumanizing phrases that don't align with their intended message.


When expressing disagreement with an idea or another, I sometimes hear, “Well, I don't care if…” or the more direct, “I hate it when…” Yes, while people may use that language in everyday dialogue, expressing “not caring” or “hate” for someone or something might land very differently with others within your sphere of influence.


What's better? Use gracious language that aligns with the intended message. Stating, “I have a different opinion…” or “Yes, I'm aware that finance thinks differently about this…” conveys a clear thought without the emotional baggage.


Avoid language referencing gender, culture, or physical attributes when that's not what you're discussing. Accounting for “man-hours” or referring to all people as “guys” isn't inclusive. 


More problematic phrases like, “We just need some warm bodies” or “It's time to put butts in seats” imply that humans are things, not people. Additionally, language like “He doesn't have the cojones…” may have sounded cool in high school, but mixing or comparing human beings to body parts is never professional.


Instead, say what you mean: “There are four open positions that we need to fill,” or “We still have 40 tickets to sell for the event,” or “I have concerns about his initiative.”


Beware also of analogies that evoke a clear image but not one you intend. An example I’ve heard is, “We all need to open our kimonos…” said in the context of sharing information or data. In addition to being culturally insensitive, it creates an image that isn't appropriate in most workplaces.


Application – Next Steps


Opinions vary on wording, but the more significant point is to examine the leadership language you're using that might not align with what you intend. Perhaps an example above has surfaced where this could be true for you.


Then, pick one phrase to change or replace with different wording. Aim to use it at least once a day. Right now, I'm working on replacing the phrase “you guys” with “you both” when referring to our adult son and daughter together.


Drop me a note if you were poked a little by this post and how we can stay on the journey of “better” together. 



Related Reading

Trust Your Canary: Every Leader's Guide to Taming Workplace Incivility* by Sharone Bar-David.


P.S. Campus teams, on average, function at less than 60% of their performance potential because they don't invest in team capacity and team potential.


The HPG Team has created a training and coaching practice to help teams win against the gravitational pull of average performance, and we can help YOU!


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More Blog Articles

By HPG Info April 27, 2026
"When your cabinet disagrees with you — what does that actually look like? Not in theory. In your last three meetings." Sit with that for a second. Most leaders pause too long. Some describe what sounds like managed dissent. A few are honest: they can't remember the last time someone pushed back on something that mattered. That silence isn't a relationship problem. It isn't a communication problem. It's a structural one — and it's costing your institution more than your last three conference registrations combined. Because here's what's actually happening: your cabinet hasn't stopped thinking. They've stopped sharing their thinking with you. There's a difference. And the gap between those two things? That's where your initiative graveyard lives. HPG's research across 987 leadership teams in 43 states identifies this as the single most consistent predictor of cabinets executing at 60% of their actual capacity. Not the wrong people. Not the wrong strategy. The wrong architecture for how thinking actually happens in the room. The Diagnosis: The Day the Room Closed Let's talk about this like adults who've survived enough board retreats to know the difference between a room that's thinking and a room that's performing. You were trained — explicitly or by cultural osmosis — to walk into a cabinet meeting with answers. With direction you'd already decided. With a vision you needed to transfer into the minds of twelve people who needed to leave aligned. The conferences call this "communicating your vision." The parking lot calls it something else. Here's what actually happens the moment your cabinet senses you've already decided — that the meeting is a reveal, not a discovery: they stop thinking with you and start managing their response to you. Not because they're disengaged. Because they correctly read the pattern. In a presentation, your job is to receive. In a conversation, your job is to contribute. Your cabinet is very good at their jobs. They will play the appropriate role. Now here's the question that lands differently than the first one: "In your last cabinet meeting — how many people said what they actually thought? Versus what they thought you needed to hear?" Cabinets where disagreement is rare don't have high alignment. They have high compliance. And compliance executes at a fraction of the capacity that genuine conviction produces. The villain here isn't your cabinet. It's the influence model you inherited — one that rewards the performance of authority over the actual practice of it. (HPG's Q2 2026 State of Education research brief maps exactly where these influence and capacity gaps are concentrated across 987 leadership teams — and what the highest-performing cabinets in our dataset are doing structurally differently. We'll get to how to access it. But first — the architecture that changes the room.) The Framework: Four Layers. Sequential. Miss One and It Collapses. The leaders in our research who produce 3x outcomes don't have better communication skills. They have better architecture. Here's what it looks like — and why the order is non-negotiable. Layer 1: Pattern Interrupt — Stop the Scroll in Your Own Room Your cabinet has a pattern for your meetings. They recognized it by month three. The agenda lands. The first item is a status update. You share a perspective. People nod. Someone says, "That's a really helpful frame." You move to the next item. The nodding is the tell. People genuinely wrestling with a hard idea don't nod. They furrow. They push back. They ask the question that proves they followed your argument all the way to its uncomfortable conclusion. The most influential leaders in our dataset interrupt their own pattern before their cabinet does it for them. They walk in with something the room didn't expect — not a framework drop, not a vision speech. A question so specific it makes the room sit up. "I want to start with something uncomfortable. What's the one thing this cabinet has been avoiding naming for the last ninety days?" Hold it open. Don't fill the silence. Seven seconds will feel like seven minutes. Let it go seven. What comes back will be different from anything your agenda has produced. Layer 2: Questions Over Declarations — The Influence Multiplier Here is the uncomfortable truth every leadership conference sidesteps — because it makes the whole premise of the conference awkward: You cannot tell someone into conviction. You can only question them into it. This is neurologically precise. When a person receives a declaration — even one they agree with — their brain encodes it as external input: things I've been told. When a person answers a question that leads them to the same conclusion, their brain encodes it as self-generated insight: things I know. Those two buckets produce completely different behavior under pressure. Compliance holds until the first obstacle. Conviction holds through obstacles — because the insight belongs to them. The question sequence that drives this moves through four stages — non-negotiable order: Stage 1 — Reality: "Walk me through what our current process for strategic priority alignment actually looks like in a typical quarter." No challenge. Just inventory. Guard stays down. Stage 2 — Gap: "When that process breaks down — and we've all seen it break down — what's the specific impact on the work that matters most?" Now they're naming it themselves. Stage 3 — Cost: "If we're honest about where this pattern leads over the next eighteen months — what does that cost us? Not in budget. In the thing that brought everyone in this room to this work." Now it's personal. Stage 4 — Possibility: "What would it mean for this cabinet — and for the community we serve — if we finally had the architecture to close that gap?" Now they're invested in the answer. Notice what's absent from every one of those questions: your answer. You are creating the conditions for your cabinet to arrive at a conclusion that is genuinely theirs — and happens to be correct. That is influence. The presentation with the good slides is information delivery. The data is unambiguous on which one moves institutions. Layer 3: Tonality — The Signal Your Cabinet Reads Before Your Words Here's what 987 team analyses surface that almost no leadership program addresses: the words matter less than most leaders think. What your cabinet reads first — before semantics, before logic, before the framework on the slide — is tone. Tone is how they interpret your intention. Intention is what determines whether the room opens or closes. Most educational leaders default to the authority tone: declarative, certain, forward-paced. It communicates competence. It also communicates: I already know the answer. And the moment your cabinet hears that, their role silently shifts. From thinking with you. To managing the gap between what they actually believe and what they're going to say out loud. Genuine inquiry is the most powerful influence signal a leader can send. It communicates something rarer than competence: respect for the collective intelligence in the room. Watch what happens when you shift from "Here's what I think we need to do" — authority tone, forward lean, declarative — to "I've been sitting with this problem, and I'm genuinely uncertain. Walk me through how you're seeing it" — inquiry tone, actual pause, actual listening. The room shifts. Slowly at first — cabinets trained on the authority pattern don't trust the inquiry pattern the first time they hear it. But faster than you expect, the tone creates the conditions for the cabinet to actually think. Layer 4: Conviction Over Consensus — What the Room Needs You to Actually Believe Your cabinet does not need you to be certain. They need you to be convicted. Certainty is a performance of knowing. Conviction is a genuine orientation toward something worth fighting for — held with enough clarity to survive disagreement, enough humility to absorb new information, enough courage to not dissolve when someone pushes back. The difference is visible at a distance. Cabinets can read it. The leader managing toward a consensus they need creates nodding rooms. The leader genuinely trying to discover what's true creates thinking ones. This is also why the parking lot conversation exists. Not because your cabinet is disloyal. Because the room gave their actual thinking no safe surface — and actual thinking has to go somewhere. Pattern interrupt, questions, tonality — all of it sits on top of this: whether your cabinet believes you are genuinely trying to get to something true. If they don't believe that, every other layer is theater. What This Looks Like When It Works Let me tell you about a superintendent I'll call Daniela. (Not her real name — but Daniela, if you're reading this, you know who you are, and so does your assistant superintendent.) Six years in. Exceptional strategic thinker. Deep community trust. A cabinet of talented people who had, over those six years, quietly learned to bring her solutions rather than problems. Not because she demanded it. Because her pattern trained them for it. The crack: a major initiative everyone enthusiastically supported in the cabinet meeting collapsed in implementation in a way three people on her cabinet could have predicted — if they'd been asked. They hadn't. She arrived with the answer. They managed their response to it. Nobody's fault. Just the architecture. The change she made wasn't a communication workshop. She committed to one structural shift: never walking into a cabinet meeting with a solution in the first fifteen minutes. She would open with a question — specifically constructed to surface the real tension — and hold it open long enough for the room to actually enter it. "The silence was brutal. I almost filled it four times in the first meeting alone." She didn't. Within two quarters, disagreements that had been living in the parking lot started surfacing in the room, where they could be worked. An assistant superintendent who had been managing upward for three years started managing laterally — because the architecture finally made it safe. Daniela's cabinet moved from 61% to 89% collective capacity in eight months. She didn't become a different leader. She became a more influential one — by doing less of what she'd been trained to do. The Application: Four Moves. Monday Morning. No retreat required. No new framework rollout. Just the architecture. Move 1: Run the Parking Lot Audit (20 minutes, before your next cabinet meeting) Think about your last three cabinet meetings. What conversation happened in the hallway, the parking lot, or a text thread after — that did not happen in the room? If you can answer that with specificity, you have your opening question for the next meeting. Walk in and name it directly. Not the solution. The thing itself. "I've been sitting with something I think we've been avoiding. Can I name it and see if it lands?" — delivered with genuine curiosity rather than authority — will produce more honest engagement in fifteen minutes than six months of better-structured agendas. Move 2: Build a Question Before You Build a Slide Before your next cabinet meeting — before you open the deck — write down the question that would lead your cabinet to discover the core insight themselves. Genuine. One you're actually uncertain about. If you can't write that question, you're not ready to lead the meeting. You're ready to deliver a presentation. Decide which one the room actually needs. The distinction feels subtle from the inside. It is not subtle from the outside. Move 3: Shift One Tone, Deliberately Identify one moment in your next meeting where you would normally use the authority tone — and shift to inquiry instead. Slow down. Let the question carry genuine uncertainty. Then count to seven before you say anything else. Seven seconds will feel like seven minutes. What comes back will be different from what you've been getting. Move 4: Name Your Conviction, Not Your Conclusion "I am certain we cannot afford another year of this pattern. I am genuinely uncertain about the best path forward. I need this cabinet's real thinking — not a managed response. What do you actually see?" Conviction is the anchor. Questions are the engine. The cabinet's genuine thinking is the fuel. All three together — that's what influence looks like at the cabinet level. Two Objections, Handled: "I don't have time to slow down." You're currently spending more time managing the downstream consequences of decisions your cabinet didn't actually own than you would spend on fifteen minutes of genuine inquiry upfront. Compliance is expensive. Conviction is fast. A cabinet that believes in a direction moves at a completely different velocity than one that was presented one. "My cabinet will read the questions as indecision." They will read it that way for approximately two meetings. Then they'll read it as something rarer and more valuable: a leader more committed to getting it right than to being seen as right. The leaders who made this shift report their cabinets became more loyal, not less — because inquiry communicates respect. And respect is the only foundation influence can actually be built on. The Maturity Shift Immature leaders think: "My job is to communicate my vision clearly enough that the cabinet aligns." Mature leaders think: "My job is to build the conditions where my cabinet's genuine thinking produces better outcomes than my individual certainty ever could." Immature leaders walk into meetings with answers and measure success by the smoothness of the agreement. Mature leaders walk in with questions and measure success by the quality of the disagreement. Immature leaders use the authority tone because it signals competence. And competence feels like influence. Mature leaders use the inquiry tone because it signals genuine discovery. And genuine discovery produces it. The leaders in our research who multiplied cabinet performance didn't become more persuasive. They became less coercive. The room opened because they stopped filling it. "When was the last time your cabinet changed your mind — in the room, in real time — about something that actually mattered?" If you're struggling to answer that, the influence model isn't the problem. It's a symptom. Drop your answer in the comments. One word is enough: INFLUENCE. Tag someone on your cabinet who has tried to change your mind and didn't feel safe enough to finish the argument. They deserve to know you noticed. The Data Behind This Issue HPG Q2 2026 · State of Education in America K–12 and Higher Education · 987 Leadership Teams Analyzed Every framework in this issue is grounded in HPG's Q2 2026 research brief — the most comprehensive analysis of leadership team performance in K–12 and higher education we've published. 987 leadership team analyses. A field-level map of where education's influence and capacity gaps are actually concentrated. The specific operating conditions that separate cabinets producing 3x outcomes from the ones still executing at 60%. Systemic trends, performance gaps, and the architectural differences that actually matter — synthesized into something you can use Monday morning. If this issue landed — if any of the four layers named something you've been living but couldn't diagnose — the research brief is where the full picture lives. → Download the Research Brief — Free PDF If you recognize the gap between the quality of thinking your cabinet is capable of and what actually happens in your meetings, this is the conversation worth having. → Schedule a 30-Minute Virtual Coffee - This is a conversation for those who are done performing influence — and ready to build the architecture that produces it. Found Value in This? → Repost with your answer to the parking lot audit: What conversation is living outside your cabinet room right now that hasn't made it in yet?  → Tag a leader you've watched use genuine inquiry — someone who asks better than they tell, and whose cabinet is better for it. The more leaders who move from performing influence to building it, the better our institutions become. Follow DR. JOE HILL and Higher Performance Group for weekly Team Intelligence insights.
By HPG Info April 21, 2026
There is a specific look I've learned to recognize. It's not burnout — burnout has an edge to it, an exhaustion that at least announces itself. This is quieter. It's the superintendent who has navigated everything thrown at her for nineteen years, who is admired by everyone in the room, who gives a precise and thoughtful answer to every question — and who, if you ask her privately when the last time she felt like she was actually making something was, has to think about it for a long time. I've seen that look in cohort after cohort. I've seen it in leaders I deeply respect. And I want to tell you something I've earned the right to say by getting this wrong for a long time myself: That's not exhaustion. That's drift. And drift and exhaustion are different problems with very different solutions. I spent years watching capable leaders develop individually — conferences, frameworks, credentials, coaching — and quietly wonder why the work still felt thin. I kept pointing them toward better strategy. Toward better self-management. Toward better leadership development. What I wasn't pointing them toward was the thing underneath the strategy. The reason they chose this in the first place. The calling that existed before the cabinet did. That distinction took me twenty years and 987 leadership teams to fully understand. And once I understood it, I couldn't unsee it anywhere. The Diagnosis: What Drift Actually Looks Like There's an old Zen story about a novice monk who asks his master what his job will be. Before enlightenment, the master says: You chop wood and carry water. Decades pass. The monk reaches mastery. He returns with the same question. The master's answer is unchanged: chop wood and carry water. The point isn't that nothing changes. The point is that the calling was never in the job. It was in the orientation toward the job. The same work — one version a slog, one version a vocation — the only variable being whether the person doing it understood what they were making and for whom. Education is full of people who started as the monk before enlightenment. And who gradually — through the accumulation of board meetings and accreditation cycles and strategic planning retreats that somehow all look exactly the same — drifted back to chopping wood and carrying water without the orientation that made it mean something. I don't say that to be harsh. I say it because the drift is almost invisible. It looks like professionalism. It looks like stability. It looks like the leader who has held everything together for two decades and cannot remember the last time she felt called rather than required. The leaders in our research who slipped from 90% capacity back toward 60% didn't lose skill. They lost orientation. And their teams — who couldn't name what they were sensing — started mirroring it. This is the part I wish someone had told me earlier: when a leader's EQ dimension approaches zero — not from incompetence but from a loss of meaning — the TQ equation collapses across the whole cabinet. TQ = IQ × EQ × PQ. The multiplication is ruthless. One dimension trending toward empty pulls everything else down with it. The capacity crisis inside most institutions isn't primarily a skills problem. It's a meaning problem that eventually becomes a skills problem. And most leadership development was designed to solve the skills problem — which means it misses the root entirely. (This is one of seven forces quietly draining what your people brought to this work. I've spent years documenting them — not to assign blame, but to name what most teams have been paying a tax on without knowing what to call it. The Burnout Force is a 60-minute keynote built to do exactly that: name the forces in the room, give your full team language for what they're carrying, and hand every person a way to fight back. Not a motivation talk. A diagnostic. More on that in a moment.) The Framework: Three Dimensions of Calling That Development Programs Miss Call this the Calling Cultivation Framework. Or don't. It'll still explain why your last leadership retreat gave you better frameworks and no deeper sense of why the work matters. Calling is not primarily found — it's cultivated. And it's cultivated through three specific practices that most leadership development never gets near. 1. INTRINSIC CLARITY The honest interrogation of what gives this particular leader coherence, purpose, and significance in their work. Not abstractly. Specifically. What, in the last month, did you do that made you feel like you were doing your work — not the role's work, not the institution's work, but the thing that required your actual judgment and your actual values and your actual self? If you can't name it, that's not a rhetorical gap. That's a diagnostic one. And the absence of an answer is worth more data than any 360 assessment you'll run this year. (This is the IQ dimension of TQ working against itself — when brilliant leaders are deployed on tasks that don't require their actual intelligence, they don't just underperform. They drift. And drifting leaders build drifting cabinets.) 2. FASCINATION The reliable emotional signal that points toward calling. Not fun. Not ease. Fascination — the state of genuine engagement where you'd pursue the thing even if nobody paid you to. The president who still reads the research because she genuinely wants to know. The superintendent who shows up at the Saturday community event because he actually wants to be there. Not for the photo. Not for the optic. Because his fascination with this particular community and its particular children hasn't been fully extinguished by the organizational distance. And here's where it gets uncomfortable for leaders who've drifted far: the fascination doesn't disappear. It goes underground. It becomes the thing you feel briefly in the hallway conversation that wasn't on the agenda — in the moment a direct report shares something they figured out and something lights up in you that hasn't lit up in a while. That's not nostalgia. That's data. That's the original calling, still intact, waiting for you to stop managing your schedule long enough to follow it. 3. FELT NECESSITY The experience of being genuinely needed. Not institutionally required. Genuinely needed. The essence of meaning in work is to feel that what you specifically do specifically matters to specific people. When the feedback loop gets long enough — when positional leadership adds enough distance between your judgment and the material it was meant to touch — that felt sense disappears. The work continues. The meaning drains. The leader who once couldn't walk past what was broken starts walking past it. Not from callousness. From the slow accumulation of distance that nobody decided to build, and nobody knows how to close. Let me tell you about a superintendent I'll call David. (Not his real name — but David, if you're reading this, you know exactly who you are, and so does the cabinet that sat with you through what I'm about to describe.) David had led the same district for eleven years. Every objective measure pointed toward success: enrollment stable, staff retention high, board confidence strong. He was, by any external measure, exactly where he was supposed to be. He hadn't felt fascinated by his work in four years. He had stopped noticing. What surfaced when we worked together wasn't a leadership problem. It was a drift problem. David had, over eleven years, gradually handed the parts of the work that generated fascination to other people — and filled the recovered hours with the parts that required his presence but not his particular self. He was the superintendent. He just wasn't David anymore. We didn't redesign his role. We did something smaller and more specific: we identified three recurring interactions in his week where the original calling was still live — still capable of generating fascination. A biweekly conversation with a school principal who was building something genuinely new. A student advisory session he'd been delegating. A community listening session he'd been sending his deputy to. He took those three back. He protected them structurally. He stopped treating them as low-priority because they weren't operationally urgent. Within one semester, his cabinet described him differently. More present. More generative. More like he was building something rather than managing something. His EQ dimension — the communication architecture, the emotional register of the room — came back online. David hadn't become a better leader. He'd become himself again. And it turned out that was the thing his cabinet had been missing. The Application: Four Moves. This Week. Here's what to do Monday morning (assuming you're not already in the middle of a board situation, in which case bookmark this and do it Wednesday): Move 1: Run the Fascination Audit (15 minutes, before tomorrow) Look at the last two weeks of your calendar. For each significant block — every meeting, every obligation, every recurring commitment — ask one question: did this require my actual self, or just my presence? Be honest. Presence is showing up. Self is bringing the judgment, the values, the fascination that made you the right person for this role in the first place. If more than half your calendar required presence but not self — that's not a scheduling problem. That's a drift diagnostic. And the gap between those two things is costing your cabinet more than you've been told. Move 2: Name the Last Time You Felt It (10 minutes, alone) When is the last time you felt genuinely fascinated by something in your role? Not satisfied. Not effective. Pulled toward it — the way you were before the title, before the cabinet, before the cycle. Write it down. Not for anyone else. For the data. If it comes to you quickly, protect whatever produced that. Structurally. Non-negotiably. Whatever it was — that interaction, that kind of problem, that particular relationship — it is not a luxury. It is the upstream resource for everything else your leadership produces. If you have to think hard — or if the honest answer is I don't remember — then the most important work in front of you isn't strategy. It's reorientation. Move 3: Return One Thing You've Been Delegating (This Week) Somewhere in your current role, there is a thing you used to do that generated fascination — and that you have, gradually and without deciding to, handed to someone else because you were too busy or it felt below your level. Take it back. For one week. See what happens to the quality of your thinking in the hours around it. This isn't about efficiency. It's about reestablishing contact with the part of the work that still has your fingerprints on it. Move 4: Ask Your Cabinet the Question You Haven't Asked (20 minutes, next meeting) Add this to the agenda of your next cabinet meeting: "When is the last time you felt like you were doing the work you were made for — not just the work that was assigned to you? What produced that?" Then hold the question open. Don't answer it first. Don't fill the silence. Let the room actually enter it. What you'll discover — consistently, across cabinets — is that this question has been waiting in most of your people for longer than they'll admit. And when a leader asks it out loud, something shifts. Not inspired-different. Honest-different. And honest-different is where the real work can finally start. "We don't have time for this kind of reflection." You are currently spending 18+ hours per month managing the downstream effects of a cabinet where some people have lost the thread of why they're here. That's not a time problem. That's a meaning deficit that has become a performance tax. You have the time. The question is what you're doing with it. "My team won't engage with something this personal." Your team is currently engaging with something that isn't working — and doing it with extraordinary professionalism and almost no visibility into why it feels so heavy. The bar is lower than you think. The question isn't whether they'll engage. It's whether they believe you actually want to know the answer. The Maturity Shift Immature leaders think: "I need to find a better role — one that reconnects me to the work that matters." Mature leaders think: "I need to find the work that matters inside the role I already hold." Immature leaders drift from their calling and call it exhaustion. Mature leaders recognize drift as a diagnostic — the signal that the orientation has slipped, not that the calling is gone. Immature leaders wait for meaning to arrive when the circumstances improve. Mature leaders understand that meaning is not downstream of circumstances. It precedes the strategic plan. It precedes the cabinet. It precedes the title. And it will precede whatever comes next — if they choose to carry it there. The 987 leadership teams in our research who moved from 60% capacity to 90% didn't get there by becoming individually better. They got there when the leaders at the top stopped managing their calling and started living it again. Their cabinets, who had been mirroring the drift without knowing it, found their own orientation in the reflection. Your turn: When did you last feel genuinely fascinated by something in your role — not satisfied, not effective, but pulled toward it? One word in the comments is enough. Because naming it is the beginning of protecting it. Tag a leader you've watched hold onto their original orientation — someone who still seems to be doing the subjective thing, not just the objective one. They deserve to know you noticed. THE BURNOUT FORCE Your team didn't lose their calling because they stopped caring. They lost it because seven specific forces — built into the structure of most educational institutions — have been draining it without anyone knowing what to call what was happening. Drift is one of them. Fragmentation. Exhaustion. Scarcity. Isolation. Noise. Comparison. Every force in this framework was operating in your organization before anyone in your cabinet arrived. Your people inherited it. They've been paying its tax every single day. The Burnout Force is a 60-minute keynote that names every force in the room — not to demoralize, but to liberate. When your team has language for what they're carrying, something shifts. Not inspired-different. Honest-different. And honest-different is where the real work can finally start. Built for your full team — teachers, faculty, staff, administrators, and everyone in the building who chose this work because it mattered. From 987 leadership teams: 3x performance improvement. 29% higher engagement. 27% better organizational outcomes. If your institution is planning a convocation, faculty retreat, or all-staff session — schedule a 30-minute conversation to explore whether The Burnout Force is the right fit for your moment. Book The Burnout Force · higherperformancegroup.com/burnout-force Found Value in This?  Help other educational leaders find it: → Repost with the one word that describes what called you to this work before the calendar got full → Tag a leader you've watched stay genuinely in it — not just managing it → Comment with your fascination answer — your answer helps others find the language for theirs The more leaders who shift from managing a calling to living one, the better our educational systems become. Follow DR. JOE HILL and Higher Performance Group for weekly Team Intelligence insights
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