We talk a lot about what we expect from our leaders.
Be patient.
Be empathetic.
Be curious.
Listen.
Create psychological safety.
Support your team.
Have difficult conversations.
Notice when someone isn't themselves.
Give people space when life gets difficult.
But what happens when the person expected to do all of those things is the one having a difficult time?
Because leaders are human too.
And yet, sometimes we seem to forget that.
The expectation that leaders can absorb everything
There can be an almost indestructible quality attached to leadership.
The person at the top is expected to have the answers. To remain calm when everyone else is under pressure. To make decisions. To manage conflict. To reassure others. To keep the business moving.
And when something is happening in their personal life, relationship breakdown, bereavement, financial pressure, caring responsibilities, family difficulties, their own health or simply a period where life feels overwhelming, that human experience doesn't magically disappear when they walk through the workplace door.
But sometimes the expectation seems to be that it should.
We rightly expect managers to recognise that their employees are human beings with lives outside of work.
But are we always extending the same understanding to our managers and leaders?
Are we creating environments where a leader can say:
"I'm having a really difficult time at the moment, and I'm aware that it's affecting me."
Or do we unconsciously expect them to keep going until their behaviour becomes impossible to ignore?
Self-awareness changes the conversation
None of this means that personal circumstances should become a free pass for poor behaviour.
This is where I think self-awareness becomes incredibly important and not just for leaders.
When we are experiencing stress, pressure, grief, uncertainty or significant challenges outside of work, it can affect how we behave.
We might become less patient.
We might communicate differently.
We might withdraw.
We might become more reactive.
We might struggle to concentrate.
We might make mistakes we wouldn't normally make.
And yes, there can be consequences to that behaviour.
For the individual, but also for the people around them.
The question is: what happens next?
Do we immediately move into a formal performance or conduct process?
Or do we have enough psychological safety within our culture for someone to recognise what is happening, take ownership of their behaviour and ask for some support?
There is an important distinction here.
Understanding behaviour isn't the same as excusing it.
And accountability doesn't have to mean a lack of compassion.
In fact, perhaps the strongest cultures are those that can hold both.
"I understand that you're going through something difficult."
And:
"Let's talk about the impact your behaviour is having and what we can do to minimise that."
Those two statements can exist together.
Psychological safety isn't just about making mistakes
When we talk about psychological safety, the conversation often centres around whether people feel able to speak up, challenge ideas or admit mistakes.
But I think there is another element worth considering.
Can people safely acknowledge when they aren't at their best?
Can a leader say that they are struggling without feeling that doing so will undermine their credibility?
Can an employee recognise that their behaviour has changed and have a conversation about it before it escalates?
Can someone make a mistake, reflect on it, apologise and learn from it without immediately being defined by that mistake?
A psychologically safe culture doesn't remove accountability.
It creates the conditions for accountability to be more constructive.
Because if people are frightened of the consequences of admitting that something is wrong, they are more likely to hide it.
And hidden problems rarely become smaller.
Taking ownership takes practice
I believe that, as adults in the workplace, we can take ownership of our behaviour.
But that doesn't necessarily come naturally.
Self-awareness takes practice.
Reflection takes practice.
Recognising our triggers takes practice.
Understanding how our emotions show up in our behaviour takes practice.
And perhaps most importantly, being willing to acknowledge "this isn't how I want to be showing up right now" requires a degree of vulnerability.
For leaders in particular, that vulnerability can feel uncomfortable.
Leadership can come with a perception that you are supposed to have it all together.
But perhaps investing in leaders should include creating opportunities for them to understand themselves better.
To reflect on their behaviours.
To recognise what happens when pressure builds.
To develop strategies that give them space when that wave of difficult emotions hits in the middle of a working day.
Not because we expect leaders to be perfect.
But because we should expect them to be self-aware.
And then there is the business case
The daily reality of leadership is often dominated by sales, revenue, targets, business development, budgets, performance and growth.
Those things matter.
Of course they do.
But people don't stop being people because there is a budget meeting at 10am.
And the impact of a leader struggling isn't necessarily contained to that individual.
Leadership behaviour has a ripple effect.
A leader who is distracted, reactive or withdrawn can influence the psychological safety of their team.
People may become more cautious.
Communication can deteriorate.
Mistakes may be hidden.
Conflict can increase.
People may start interpreting behaviour without understanding what sits behind it.
And over time, that can become a culture issue rather than an individual one.
This is why investment in leadership development cannot only be about performance.
It has to include the human being who is responsible for delivering that performance.
Perhaps we need to redefine what strong leadership looks like
Strong leadership isn't necessarily the ability to keep going regardless of what life throws at you.
Perhaps sometimes it is being able to recognise:
"I'm not at my best."
"This is affecting how I'm behaving."
"I need to take responsibility for that."
"I need some space to work out what I need."
And perhaps a strong organisation is one that can respond to that with both humanity and accountability.
Because the goal isn't to create workplaces where nobody struggles.
That isn't realistic.
The goal is to create workplaces where when people do struggle, they have the self-awareness, skills, relationships and psychological safety to recognise it, talk about it and minimise the impact on themselves and others.
Including our leaders.
Because leadership doesn't make someone less human.
It makes it even more important that we remember they are human.