Leadership is rarely glamorous in the moment it matters most.
It’s not the boardroom photo or the inspirational quote; it’s the silence that follows an unpopular opinion, the long pause before someone says, “I disagree,” and the lonely stretch between dissent and decision. True leadership, the kind that shapes outcomes and earns trust over time, is not built on consensus – it’s built on backbone.
It’s easy to confuse leadership with likability, especially in cultures where cohesion and consensus are prized. The instinct to maintain harmony is powerful, and there’s nothing wrong with valuing social cohesion. But cohesion becomes dangerous when it asks us to betray our better judgment in service of comfort. In fact, the most important moments in leadership are often the most uncomfortable ones. They are the ones where we’re exhausted but must still speak, where we know our view won’t win the room but must still hold it.
Disagree and commit is a popular phrase in leadership circles. It’s meant to convey decisiveness: the ability to challenge, be heard, and then unify behind a direction – even if it wasn’t yours. But too often, people skip to the commit part. They keep their disagreement quiet, assuming silence equals solidarity. It doesn’t. Silence, in fact, is one of the most misunderstood forms of participation. It doesn’t always mean agreement; sometimes it’s just fatigue, fear, or a misplaced sense of diplomacy.
Having backbone means knowing when to speak up, even when it drains you. It means resisting the subtle pressure to nod along for the sake of speed or harmony. It means holding the line when others would rather you just let it go. That doesn’t mean being combative or contrarian – it means being principled. There’s a difference. Tenacity isn’t about always winning the argument; it’s about not abandoning your sense of what’s right just because the room gets uncomfortable.
And that’s the real test, isn’t it? Not whether you’re right, but whether you’re willing to carry the burden of being right too early or alone. Great leaders are often the ones who said something when it was unpopular, not when it was easy. They knew that conviction sometimes costs you in the short term: social capital, energy, likeability. But they also knew the deeper cost of withholding it – lost trust, fuzzy direction, and a slow erosion of culture where people stop bringing their full selves to the table.
In startup culture, we often glorify the bold founder who defies norms. But this principle applies just as powerfully within teams, boards, classrooms, or communities. You don’t have to be the loudest person in the room to have a backbone. Some of the most courageous acts of leadership come in the form of soft-spoken conviction, quiet insistence, and gentle but firm resistance to shortcuts or false harmony.
If this sounds exhausting, it’s because it is. Real leadership is. It demands emotional labor. It asks us to be unpopular and still persistent, patient and still unyielding, calm and still unwavering. It asks us to disagree not just to be difficult, but because we care about the outcome too much to pretend otherwise.
Over the years, I’ve learned that one of the best things you can offer your team, your community, or even your family is your honest conviction – delivered respectfully, but without dilution. I’ve seen how clarity can feel like confrontation when people aren’t used to it, and how easy it is to avoid tension in the moment only to invite regret later. But I’ve also seen how much people respect someone who is willing to stand firm, not for ego, but for purpose.
We talk a lot about courage in leadership, and often it’s framed in grand terms – risking everything, stepping into the unknown. But sometimes courage is just staying in the room when your view isn’t welcome. It’s holding eye contact. It’s saying, “I still don’t agree,” and then staying committed once the decision is made. That’s the full circle. Disagree and commit. Not silently opt out. Not force a re-litigation. But offer your full voice, and then your full support. That’s the rare discipline. That’s the work.
If we’re being honest, it’s easier to seek peace than progress, easier to be liked than to be clear. But if you’re lucky enough to be in a position of influence, it’s your responsibility to speak the hard truths, not just the popular ones. Leadership is not about being right all the time – it’s about having the strength to say what you believe when it matters, and the humility to support others when it’s time to move forward.
So have backbone. Disagree and commit, even when it’s uncomfortable, even when it’s exhausting. Because leadership, at its core, is not about avoiding friction – it’s about navigating through it with grace and grit.