
There’s a moment in every leader’s journey where they must choose whether they’re willing to walk the path they’re asking others to follow. It sounds simple – obvious, even – but it’s one of the hardest principles to consistently uphold. And yet, leadership without example isn’t leadership at all; it’s instruction. It might get compliance, but it won’t earn conviction. People don’t follow what you say. They follow what you do. And more than anything, they remember what you refused to do.
That’s why leaders can’t ask people to do what they themselves aren’t prepared to do. Not just because it’s unfair, but because it erodes trust – the invisible currency of every high-functioning team, organization, or movement. People notice when there’s a gap between your words and your willingness. They may not call it out, but they carry it quietly. And when push comes to shove, that silence becomes resistance.
Or worse – apathy.
Skin in the game is not just about fairness. It’s about credibility. In some ways, it’s also about humility – the kind that doesn’t shout but quietly shows up. It’s the leader who won’t ask someone to work weekends unless they’ve already done it themselves. The founder who won’t expect someone to take a pay cut unless they’ve taken one first. The manager who won’t demand vulnerability unless they’ve shared something real. That alignment between what you expect and what you embody is the difference between commanding a room and actually inspiring it.
And it doesn’t mean you have to be the best at everything your team does. This isn’t about technical superiority – it’s about commitment. It’s about signalling, in ways big and small, that you’re not exempt from effort, discomfort, or accountability. Because leadership isn’t a position from which you declare; it’s a position from which you model.
I’ve often told people that if you’re trying to grow as a leader, the best place to start is by looking in the mirror and asking: What am I asking of others that I haven’t asked of myself? That simple question exposes all the cracks. It brings ego, fear, and entitlement to the surface. And it reminds you – especially when you’re growing something or leading through change – that leadership is not about being in charge. It’s about being first in line to go where others are hesitant to go.
This is especially true in environments where credibility isn’t inherited. In startup teams. In community work. In social impact settings. In cultures that don’t care about titles as much as they care about trust. You can’t just announce your vision and expect people to fall in line. You have to live it. Show up early. Stay late. Own your mistakes. Make hard calls. Take real risks. That’s the part people follow. Not the slide deck or the strategy memo, but the lived example of someone who’s in the arena, not just directing from the sidelines.
And yes, it’s exhausting. That’s why not everyone does it. It’s far easier to externalize expectations than to internalize responsibility. To outsource courage to your team rather than practicing it yourself. But the cost of that avoidance is real. Because when you constantly ask others to do what you won’t, you start to lose the moral authority that leadership depends on. And over time, people begin to check out. Not because they’re not capable, but because they’re no longer convinced.
What’s powerful, though, is that it works the other way too. When people see their leader show up, take ownership, and do the hard things, it sends a ripple effect through a team. It gives permission. It builds momentum. It makes it safe to try, to fail, to speak up. Because leadership, at its core, is about making it safe for others to be brave. And that kind of culture doesn’t come from mandates. It comes from modelling.
There’s a classic concept in behavioral science called social proof, where people look to others to determine how they themselves should behave – especially in uncertain or ambiguous situations. In leadership, that proof starts with you. You set the tone. You signal the norms. And those norms become culture. And culture, eventually, becomes identity.
Which is why the best leaders I’ve worked with – whether in nonprofits, business, or government – aren’t the ones with the most impressive bios or loudest voices. They’re the ones who know that leadership is, above all, a responsibility. Not to look good. Not to feel powerful. But to be worthy of being followed. And that worth is proven not in what they say, but in what they are willing to do.
So here’s a thought to carry forward: When you find yourself about to ask something of your team, your partner, your community – pause. Ask yourself if you’ve gone first. Or at the very least, if you’re prepared to. Because leadership begins there. Not in authority, but in example. Not in pressure, but in presence. And certainly not in asking for more than you’re willing to give.
Because if you’re not ready to go first, don’t be surprised when no one else is willing to follow.