Power, Trust, and the Measure of Leadership

In the quiet of our own hearts, each of us knows when we are led well. We know this not because of the strategies that swirl around us, nor the slogans pinned to the walls, nor the inspirational speeches we hear. We know it when we feel safe enough to give our best — when we trust.

Leadership, if it means anything at all, is not about getting things from people. It is about enabling people to give freely, and to grow in the giving. This is the simple insight at the heart of the Care and Growth model: that the legitimacy of a leader’s power does not come from position, rank, or even pay, but from the willingness of the led to be led. And that willingness is earned, not demanded.

A manager can command compliance through rewards and punishments, the “carrot and stick.” But what a leader really needs is not compliance, but commitment — the choice people make to give more than the minimum, to solve problems they don’t strictly own, to care when no one is watching. This is not something that can be bought with money, nor compelled with threats. It is given — or withheld — by people, freely.

But why would anyone give more than they must? The answer is simple but profound: people give when they trust, and they trust when they see that those in power genuinely care for their well-being and enable their growth. Power and legitimacy, then, are two sides of the same coin. Power is the right to ask. Legitimacy is the right to be answered willingly.

This insight came not from an ivory tower, but from hard experience — deep in the mines of South Africa, under conditions where trust was scarce and suspicion was the norm. There, when researchers asked miners why they trusted certain managers but not others, the answer was always the same: “He takes care of our problems. He listens. He does something for us.” Beneath every theory of motivation and management lies this simple truth: human beings follow those who look after them.

This flips the common notion of power on its head. True power is not the ability to get things from people — that is control, and control breeds resistance. True power is the ability to earn loyalty, to be trusted with another’s effort and heart. It is the power that comes only to those who serve first.

What does this mean in practice? It means the leader’s work is not the work of squeezing out results, but of providing the means, building ability, and demanding accountability. It is a threefold trust: to equip, to enable, and to hold to account — always in that order.

Providing the means is not just about tools and resources, but about removing obstacles, clarifying what is required, and ensuring that people have the authority they need to act. Enabling ability is about teaching, coaching, and expecting mastery. And accountability is not about punishment, but about insisting that each person owns their contribution — and grows in that ownership.

Such leadership is demanding. It is far easier to bark orders or to wave carrots than to sit down and coach, to listen to grievances, or to remove constraints that hamper performance. But the easy path is not the fruitful one.

A manager obsessed with control may get short-term results, but they will harvest only the minimum. A leader who commits to care and growth will unlock far more: the discretionary effort, the creativity, the goodwill that no contract can demand but every enterprise depends upon.

So the real measure of leadership is not in results alone, but in the calibre of people it produces. Have you grown people who can give more than they take? Who leave your care stronger, more capable, more willing? If so, you have led. If not, you have merely managed.

It is worth asking ourselves — each of us, in our own quiet moments — who was the leader we gave our best for? What did they do? And how might we become that leader for others?

Reflection Question:
How, in your current role, can you shift from extracting results to enabling people to give their best — willingly?

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