1. The Vulnerable Leader

Why Courage Looks Nothing Like Perfection

Let’s start with the hard truth. Somewhere between business school case studies and episodes of Succession, we got it into our heads that being a leader means having all the answers. Standing at the front. Speaking with total confidence. Frowning at spreadsheets. Never, under any circumstances, admitting you’re winging it.

That’s the myth and honestly, it’s a bit of a crock.

Because here’s the real thing no one tells you. The strongest, bravest, most capable leaders out there are not the ones trying to look perfect. They’re the ones willing to look a bit human.

Yes, even slightly daft sometimes.

That time I tried to look in control and looked like an idiot instead

A few years back, I ran a big meeting where I was trying to rally the troops. You know the type. PowerPoint clicker in hand. My best I’ve got this voice on. Somewhere between "TED Talk" and "we’re going to take this hill."

I was three slides in when I realised I was presenting completely the wrong thing. Not relevant to the group and cringingly historical in nature. To the leadership team. Who had all seen them already. Twice.

No one said anything for a full 30 seconds, which felt like about a week. Then someone coughed gently and said, “John, mate -  are we doing a re-run?”

I could’ve doubled down. Could’ve blamed the intern or muttered something about testing their memory. But instead, I just said, “Right. Wrong content. Bugger. Let’s start again.” We all laughed. The mood changed and strangely enough, we ended up having one of the best strategy sessions we’d had in ages.

Not in spite of that moment. Because of it.

Why vulnerability isn’t a weakness (unless you’re trying to impress robots)

Here’s what I’ve come to learn. People don’t connect to leaders because they’re perfect. They connect because they’re real.

We want to trust our leaders. But we also want to like them. Respect them. Relate to them. That doesn’t happen when someone’s pretending to have it all together. It happens when someone’s willing to say -

• “I’m not sure yet.”

• “That didn’t go to plan.”

• “I messed that up. Let’s talk about it.”

That’s not weak. That’s bold. It takes more guts to tell the truth than it does to bluff your way through a room full of people who are just hoping someone will finally say what they’re all thinking.

The old story of ‘the boss’ is getting stale

Let’s be honest. The old-school idea of a leader isn’t ageing well. The tight-lipped, suit-wearing authority figure. Always certain. Always decisive. Probably drives a German car and enjoys telling people what to do.

We’ve all had that boss. Some of us have been that boss. It’s exhausting. For everyone involved.

Leadership today has to look different. If you’re leading a team in 2025 and still trying to act like the smartest person in the room, you’re not leading. You’re performing and your people know it, so you’d better know it too.

Being vulnerable is not about spilling your guts in team meetings or turning performance reviews into therapy sessions. It’s about being honest. Being open and sometimes, being the first one to admit, “I don’t know, but I’m willing to figure it out with you.”

Courage isn’t about charging in. It’s about showing up

People often think courage is big. Loud. Some kind of chest-beating, battle-cry moment. But most of the time, courage is quieter than that. It’s the moment you choose to be seen, just as you are. No polished mask. No spin.

It’s the moment you say to your team, “I need your help.”

It’s the moment you own a mistake before anyone else calls it out.

It’s the moment you speak the truth, even when your voice shakes just a bit.

These are the things that shift a culture. They’re the things that make space for honesty, creativity and actual human connection. They are not easy. But they are transformative.

Vulnerability changes everything

Since I started showing up with less armour on, something weird has happened. People talk more. They take more risks. They try new things. They tell the truth sooner. Our teams get better, faster. They feel more like actual communities than org charts.

There’s less hiding. Less second-guessing. And way more room for the kind of bold thinking we’re going to need to navigate the mess and magic of the years ahead.

And here’s the kicker. People seem to trust me more, not less.

Go figure.

So what’s possible?

Imagine if every leader stopped pretending they were bulletproof. Imagine if boardrooms were places where people could say, “I got that wrong,” without fear. Imagine if the people at the top stopped performing, and just started leading with honesty.

It would change everything. Because here’s the truth. Being vulnerable might feel risky. But being fake is far riskier.

Especially when you’re leading.

Let’s keep going. Part two is where we talk about trust. The kind that can only grow when you’re not too busy trying to be impressive.

But for now, maybe just try this. Next time you find yourself about to fudge, bluff or power pose your way through something - Don’t.

Take a breath. Own it. Be seen.

You’ll be surprised what happens next.