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In the summer of 2009, the NFL was bracing for war. The owners had walked away from a collective bargaining deal they had signed just two years earlier, demanding pay cuts, slashed pensions, and two extra games for free. They had stockpiled a $4 billion lockout fund and were ready to shut the game down for a year if that is what it took. On the other side stood a union reeling from the sudden death of its legendary leader, Gene Upshaw. Into that void stepped an outsidera trial lawyer from Washington, D.C., named DeMaurice Smithwhom ESPN called the man with the toughest job in sports. The players had less than $300 million, a string of failed strikes behind them, and the very real prospect of being steamrolled. On top of everything, the players desperately needed to end the owners’ unilateral right under the old deal to add as many games to the regular season as they wished. [Photo: Penguin Random House] But this time, the fight would not be linear. The new leader pushed his players to battle on every frontpublic opinion, Congress, and most of all, in the one place owners thought they couldnt be touched: their money. Out of that fight came one of the most unlikely weapons in sports labor historyan insurance policy against a lockout. It was the first, and only, of its kind. And if the players could pull it off, it might just prevent them from being at the mercy of thirty-one billionaires who saw an opportunity for the greatest power and money grab in the history of professional sports.Excerpted from Smith’s book, “Turf Wars: The Fight for the Soul of America’s Game,” this is the story of how how that deal went down. AN ACE IN THE HOLE With negotiations tabled, I did what I do when Im overwhelmed: I escape, and I drink. An old law partner buddy, David Barrett, and I went to Palm Springs, California, and pounded cocktails. Owners had been openly bragging about their $4 billion rainy-day fundenough to survive a months-long pausefor years, even before the dust had settled following the Great Recession. Banks werent in a position to lend so much money, and after meeting so many owners, I couldnt imagine that some of those overgrown man-babies had the discipline to save roughly $130 million apiece. Would the TV networks give it to them? Dave asked. The league has leverage, he continued, because of how much the networks want the broadcast rights. The day after Dave and I hit the bars, I authorized the hiring of a former network executive to advise us on television contracts. I lobbed what felt like a stupid question to the former executive: Could there be a clause in a broadcast rights contract that would pay owners even if games werent played? Every contract, this executive explained, includes language about make goods. Say you run a doughnut shop and advertise it on Google. If, for instance, Alphabets servers get hacked and all of its sites go dark, this is the clause that requires Google to make good on the agreement and publish the ad later. Using similar logic, networks could agree to a deal in which they paid a certain amount of money in the event that games werent played, in exchange for a discount on future payments. If our theory was correct, it was as if the league had taken out an insurance policy from the networks. If they had, it would have been for less moneya potential violation of the leagues obligations to players under the collective bargaining agreement. All of this got me thinking that it sure would be amazing if there were such a thing as lockout insurance. It was a disaster wed known was coming, and it wasnt as if we were causing the lockout. In fact, our players were trying like hell to avoid missing work, so the risk wasnt even ours to transfer. Still, I wondered, could there be such an insurance policy? It was a question worth asking. I got permission to pursue this as a potential nuclear option in our arsenal. Its ultimate value wasnt the payout. It was the leverage it would create. Because if the policy did pay out, our side could withstand a work stoppage for far longer than the owners believed. Their $4 billion had to cover keeping stadiums and team facilities online, administrative staffs paid, and front-end costs guaranteed. Factoring in players salaries, this amount suggested they were prepared to miss half the 2011 season as they waited on players to cave. But if we sprang this insurance policy on owners at the right time, I explained, owners would realize their eight-game strategy was doomed. The insurance payout was $850 million, set to be distributed after two missed regular-season games. It was enough for players to sit out the entire year, and while it might not pay for their full salary, bonuses, and benefits, it was enough to pay each player $200,000 per weekenough that players wouldnt beg me to sign whatever proposal the league put forth. Now, here was the tricky part: The premium would cost $47 million. Players murmured, knowing the union had only $200 million in its coffers. It was a huge gamble. I believed that the insurance payout would be enough to protect our men and give them financial security for an entire missed season. For now, we had to keep it quiet. Secrecy was our most important component. We had an ace in the hole, and I had known for months who I wanted to deal the cards ‘Maybe its time we all put our guns away’ My phone rang. It was Robert Kraft, the owner of the New England Patriots. He asked I was up for one more meeting. Look, he said, this isnt a time to be hiding stuff. If you guys have more resources, we need to be transparent with each other. Lets just say I took steps to protect our players, I said. Nobody is going to crumble early. In my legal career, I had worked for men like these. Gone against them. Theyre not the type to congratulate you on a successful gambit and just accept defeat with a warm handshake. These guys are used to winning, and on the rare occasions they dont win, their response is to change the rules and punish the opposing side for making them sweat. As we waited outside the meeting room, I mostly felt dread. My brain had produced three possible scenarios, two of them bad. Owners could storm out or call our bluff, effectively a challenge to see who broke first. Players are taught to feel comfort in certainty, so either of those possibilities would break us. The third was that Kraft realized that a civil war was good for no one, that the NFLs business model was impervious to inflation, elections, and geopolitical conflict, invincible to almost everything except greed. The door finally opened, and we were invited into an initial meeting with just a few participats. On our side, NFL Players Association President Kevin Mawae picked Domonique Foxworth, Jeff Saturday, and me. I made eye contact with everyone in the holding room, more than fifty guys, and tried to convey confidence and conceal my anxiety. Theres no such thing as a fearless leader, and if there were, I cant imagine following them. Any conflict requires self-awareness and the acknowledgment that all of your planning, strategizing, and overthinking could fail. Against some of the most powerful and dangerous men in the world, I was well aware of the odds. We returned to the conference room door, and I lowered the handle. There sat NFL commissioner Roger Goodell, Carolina Panthers owner Jerry Richardson, the Coboys’ owner Jerry Jones, and Kraft at a round table. To me, every group is a jury, and I try to read their shoulders and eyes. Richardson was fuming; Jones calmer than ice water. We took our seats, and Kraft began the meeting. In the same tone of voice I used for closing arguments in a murder trial, I told everyone about the insurance policy and its details. I paused, allowing the information to sink in. Nobody said a word. Im sure you thought there would be a resolution by week four, I said, because players would collapse. But were content to sit out the entire season. Im not sure Ive ever seen a hatred in someones eyes like that of Jerry Richardson. Roger turned bright red, the vein in his neck pulsing. Kraft remained silent. Jerry Jones seemed to realize that, in a single sentence, we had destabilized years of planning and maneuvering by the league. So lets just wait a minute, he said. Maybe its time that we all put our guns away. Kraft and Richardson looked at him. We can just sliiiide em back into the holster, Jones continued. The moment of truth In a negotiation, this is whats called the deal pointthe moment of truth. Jones recognized it before anyone else, acknowledging that owners were cornered. There would be no player collapse, and thered be no eight- or ten-game season. Why havent I been told about this? Roger said. De, you have to understand that Ive set up some things to protect the owners. Things I havent even told them about. Thats when I knew. It was checkmate. Ah, Puddin, I remember thinking. I got you, didnt I? Kraft took a long breath and said that wed given the league some things to discuss. He looked at me and issued the faintest smile, an acknowledgment, finally, that I might actually be worthy of respect.From the book TURF WARS by DeMaurice Smith 2025 by DeMaurice Smith. Published on August 5, 2025, by Random House, an imprint and division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved.
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The executive order President Trump recently issued that calls for classical architecture to be the preferred style for all federal buildings and U.S. courthouses bears the imposing character and signature of the former real estate developer. But the order itself is the product of the single-minded persistence of one man: Justin Shubow. Shubow, who runs a small Washington, D.C., nonprofit advocacy group known as the National Civic Art Society, has been waiting for this moment for years. Since joining the NCAS in 2011, Shubow has been telling anyone who will listen that the architecture of American democracy has been subverted for the past 75 years by an elite architectural aesthetic that flies in the face of public preference. Modernist architecture, Shubow argues, has become the de facto standard for new federal buildings, despite the fact that the Founding Fathers established a tradition of using classical architecture in federal buildings. “The core buildings of government in the United States are classical,” he says during a video call in early August, pointing to the White House, the U.S. Capitol, and the Supreme Court, among others. “I think it is inarguable that classical architecture is the architecture Americans most associate with our democracy.” Shubows efforts started to pay off in 2020, when President Trump issued an executive order in December of that year, calling for classical and loosely-defined “traditional” architecture to be the default style of federal buildings in Washington, D.C. By that time, Trump had already lost the November election, and while the order rankled many in the architecture community, they didnt have to worry for long. President Joe Biden revoked the order just two months later. The new executive order, which Shubow helped draft, calls for essentially the same things as the first one. And because it’s been issued on the early side of Trump’s second term, it could end up affecting the designs of at least some federal courthouses and office buildings in the government’s near-term development pipeline. As it did during Trump’s first term, the American Institute of Architects has come out in opposition to the executive order. “This directive would replace thoughtful design processes with rigid requirements that will limit architectural choice,” the AIA said in a statement urging the administration to rescind the order. “Each era of America’s architectural legacy has honored the past while addressing contemporary needs through diverse design solutions. Restricting federal architecture options to styles from antiquity ignores this natural evolution and limits our freedom to create buildings that truly serve modern communities.” Shubow has finally gotten what he wants. But some worry it may come at the cost of limiting architectural expression at the highest levels. Rather than cementing classical buildings as the architecture of democracy, it could end up forever aligning the style as yet another signifier of Trump’s divisive MAGA movement. What the NCAS wants from the executive order The National Civic Art Society was founded in 2002 as a nonpartisan organization made up of architects, urban planners, historians, philosophers, democracy advocates, and critics. It was meant to beat the drum for classical architecture, a historicist style of architecture with roots in ancient times, succinctly characterized by lots of columns and pediments. In addition to ancient Greek structures and the widespread architectural influence of the Roman Empire, many of the most well-known examples of classical architecture are prominent government and court buildings scattered across the U.S., with a heavy concentration in the nation’s capital. This old style of building is one that many people, especially in the U.S., recognize as a representation of the government and the system of democracy. Deepening that recognition has been the work of the NCAS for nearly a quarter-century. In many ways, NCASs battle is already won. There is no real shortage of classical architecture in the world, whether ancient examples or modern forms in present-day democracies. But it is inarguably an older style of architecture in a field that often prides itself on pushing new ideas and forms, with practitioners who see their work as a mix of art and science. For many architects, innovative design does not involve buildings that look like they were designed thousands of years ago. Accordingly, the designers who have sought out commissions for federal buildings in recent decades have proposed buildings that largely lean away from the touchstones of classical architecture. In recent years, this trend has become the focal point of the NCAS. Shubow has said the predominant federal architecture trend of the mid-20th century onward has been generic boxes and, to a lesser extent, the steel and glass cages that came to exemplify corporate America and international business. “There’s no doubt that modernism is hegemonic within architecture schools and within the profession,” Shubow says. This hegemony has infiltrated the federal government since the 1950s, he argues, exemplified most prominently by the Design Excellence Program, a 1960s-era policy from the federal government’s General Services Administration that set standards for federal buildings. One section of that policy frameworkthe Guiding Principles for Federal Architecturesays that the development of an official federal architecture style must be avoided and for architects to create their own concepts of what a government building looks like. “Design must flow from the architectural profession to the Government, and not vice versa,” the policy reads. The new executive order reverses that flow. Shubow says this policy was targeted because it opened the floodgates for modernist designs to take hold in the federal architecture portfolio. Offending examples, according to Shubow, include the brutalist-style J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building (1975) and the Department of Housing and Urban Development headquarters (1968) in Washington, D.C., and the San Francisco Federal Building (2007), designed by Morphosis. These buildings and many other modern federal buildings feature heavily in the lectures, speeches, and presentations that Shubow has been delivering during his time as president of the NCAS. He often reers to the FBI building as the ministry of fear and the San Francisco Federal Building as an alien spacecraft that’s going to kill you with laser beams.” He calls his presentation a very persuasive slideshow juxtaposing modernist designs with iconic classical buildings like the U.S. Capitol building, the U.S. Supreme Court building, and the White House, as well as historic examples of classicism dating back to Roman times. Shubows slideshows single out brutalist and deconstructivist modern federal buildings as being oppressive, alien, and dehumanizing. One thing people have to remember about these brutalist buildings is not just that they have ugly architecture. Many of them are bad urbanism. These super blocks cut off parts of the city from each other, Shubow says. Beyond its recent turn as a flashpoint between conservatives and progressives, brutalism has been a divisive architectural style for decades. It emerged in the mid-20th century as structural engineering techniques enabled economical concrete-based buildings to grow bigger and taller. Postwar architects latched onto the flexibility and expressiveness of designing with poured concrete, leading to what some have called “a golden age” of modernist design. Compared to steel or stone, the lower cost of building with concrete made it a popular material choice for fiscally responsible government buildings in the mid- and late 20th century. Though some of the resulting brutalist buildings are well loved and even awarded, the style’s use of raw concrete exteriors and imposing forms is often criticized as being cold, sterile, and (at least in postwar America) “Soviet.” Shubow’s presentations are not subtle in the way they demonize the modernist approach. It’s fundamentally the photos of the buildings that make the argument, he says. That’s how Shubow and the NCAS got Trump, during his first term, to make classical architecture a part of the presidential agenda, even if only as a parting shot. What Trump wants from the executive order The real estate developer-turned-president would seem to be a natural ally for a building-centric group like NCAS. But Trump’s real estate venturesfrom branded luxury towers and gold-themed casinos to a Manhattan hotel project that saw a classically inspired building renovated and covered in a glass facadeshow more of a preference for the modern design the NCAS opposes. Nevertheless, the NCAS managed to get a meeting in the West Wing of the White House with four or five members of the president’s Domestic Policy Council in 2019. Shubow presented his slideshow and made his case. I explained what had gone wrong with federal architecture and why we needed to do something to reform it, Shubow says. It was from that meeting that the idea of an executive order was hatched. Shubow says his organization would have been happy to have the same meeting with any of the other presidential administrations over the past 24 years. We’re like any advocacy organization that has policy ideas and brings them to the White House to be implemented, Shubow says. We have promoted our ideas, and they have been accepted. Shubow and the NCAS helped draft what would become Trump’s December 2020 executive order titled “Promoting Beautiful Federal Civic Architecture. The timing of the first executive order during Trump’s lame duck period following his losing reelection bid in 2020 suggests that his interest in the subject was more concerned with stirring up controversy than pursuing policy. One source, speaking on background, says White House insiders saw the heated response to the executive order as proof of its worth. The White House press office did not respond to multiple interview requests. In his second term, Trump has embraced buildings as cultural flashpoints. The White House recently focused on the renovation of the classical-style Federal Reserve headquarters as a pretense to have Fed Chair Jerome Powell fired before his term ends. Trump also followed through on a campaign platform to move the FBI headquarters out of the brutalist Hoover building. Hes also spearheaded several major changes to the White House, including the paving of the Rose Garden and the recently announced plan to build a 90,000-square-foot neoclassical ballroom. This second executive order on a preferred federal architectural style is a continuation of this trend, and appears primed to sow division. Shubow calls it a straightforward display of populism. I don’t think that a new executive order like the one President Trump previously issued should be controversial to normal people, he says. Sure, architectural elites are going to oppose it. A childhood hatred The NCAS got an unexpectedly ideal leader when Shubow joined the group. He says he’s been very sensitive to the built environment for his entire life. I remember hating a brutalist public library, even as a child, he says. Located in his hometown of Towson, Maryland, the 1974 building is a concrete complex made up of bold geometric forms. For Shubow, it was an affront. Yet, Shubow is neither a designer nor an architect. He earned a master’s degree in philosophy in 2004 from the University of Michigan, where he was exposed to the English philosopher Roger Scruton, who was known, among other things, for his focus on conservatism and a harsh stance against modernist architecture. Shubow later got a law degree from Yale and moved to Washington, D.C. Before relocating, he says he learned about NCAS after chatting about classical architecture with a fellow guest at a wedding. Since becoming the group’s president in 2011, he’s taken on the full-time role of arguing for classical architecture and against modernist architecture. He says not being a designer is one of the strengths he brings to NCAS, comparing his outsider’s view to that of Jane Jacobs, whose work challenged the status quo of city planning in the 1950s. She demonstrated that an entire profession can essentially be mistaken, Shubow says. I was never brainwashed into the ideology of modernism. Given my training in philosophy, I think I’m quite god at recognizing bogus arguments. And there is a lot of B.S. underlying architectural theory today. Shubow’s approach can be aggressive, especially for an organization whose focus is the seemingly urbane realm of aesthetics and culture. For the NCAS, the approach seems to be working. Since becoming president of the NCAS, the organization has seen its annual budget and contributions steadily increase, with a sharp jump in both contributions and in Shubow’s compensation in 2022 and 2023, the most recent year for which IRS filings are available. Shubow declined to offer details on contributors to the organization. As a 501(c)(3) nonprofit, the group is not required to disclose its contributors, but many similar organizations typically rely heavily on support from their own boards. One NCAS board member since 2019 is the billionaire Thomas Klingenstein, who gave more than $10 million to the Trump campaign during the 2024 election. Wherever the money is coming from, the group’s leadership sees it paying off. Justin has been successful because he knows the issues and he’s tenacious, says Marion Smith, an NCAS board member who served as the group’s chairman from 2012 to 2022. He tells Fast Company via email that during his tenure, he defended Shubow from two separate coup attempts that sought to remove him from the organization’s leadership. Some people criticized him, but my response always was: Yes, he’s a bulldog. But he’s our bulldog. The dilemma of political convenience Though Shubow has now succeeded twice in elevating the mission of the NCAS to the level of presidential intervention, there are some who worry that linking the cause of classical architecture so closely to Trump is a mistake. The style already carries what many would call an unfair association with conservatism. Having it be part of Trump’s platform was enough for at least one NCAS member to revoke his support for the organization. Steven Semes practiced classical architecture for more than 30 years and is now a professor at the University of Notre Dame’s School of Architecture. He’s in agreement with Shubow that the federal government has, for too long, been closed off to classical architecture. He was an early and enthusiastic supporter of the NCAS. Until Trump came along, he says. For someone who loves classical architecture and also happens to be a political liberalas I am and as many of my colleagues areit really does pose a dilemma. Semes says he urged the organization to be cautious about the risks of making classical architecture an extension of Trump’s divisive presidency and tarnishing its merits. I’m angry that people will see the Trump embrace of classical architecture and they will say, ‘See, we told you that classical architecture is fascistic, and this proves it, he says. As some of us pointed out in the first Trump administration, when the first executive order came out, you very well may set back the movement for classical architecture. This could have a very negative impact on what we’ve worked for for decades. Putting aside his own politics, Semes says that it should be clear that Trump’s focus on classical architecture is hardly genuine. He says the Trump administration is simply using its executive orders to stoke a culture war, pitting his own followers against establishment elites. Shubow doesn’t dispute some of the impetus. I think [Trump] saw this as a winning issue. That this is an issue about ordinary people versus a kind of elite, and that elite being the architectural profession, he says. Architectural styles, though, are almost totally beside the point. If you want to know what the MAGA movement thinks of classical architecture, you can see how they treated the U.S. Capitol on January 6th, Semes says about the violent storming of the historic landmark building in 2021. Obviously, what it meant to them was, it’s the headquarters of everything they hated. But when I look at the U.S. Capitol, I have an opposite opinion. Policy and legacy Shubow is not fazed by the dilemma of pursuing the mission of the NCAS through political convenience. It has been a goal of my organization to bring this issue to national attention, he says. Two executive orders, a presidential memorandum on classical architecture issued on the first day of Trump’s second term, plus Shubow’s appointment to the U.S. Commission of Fine Arts from 2018 to 2021 equate to a certain degree of validation. The NCAS was once close to achieving a more substantial version of its goals than the revocable proclamation of an executive order. In 2023, the group successfully convinced then-Rep. Jim Banks (R-IN) to sponsor the Beautifying Federal Civic Architecture Act, followed by a version introduced in the Senate by then-Sen. Marco Rubio of Florida. Both bills floundered, but Shubow is hopeful for binding legislation this time around. (Banks now represents Indiana in the Senate, and Rubio is the secretary of state. Banks’s office did not respond to a request for comment.) Policy change could be coming soon, affecting new federal buildings in the pipeline and those to be built in the future. The day after Trumps second federal architecture executive order, Rep. Kevin Kiley (R-CA) announced hed be introducing a bill in the House to return our federal buildings to classical/traditional architecture that reflects the spirit of democracy and self-government. The new architecture executive order may not live past this current presidential administration, or it could get translated into legislation with a more viable path to approval. Either way, it could end up influencing at least some of the federal building portfolio in the years ahead, which includes a handful of federal courthouses and annex buildings in Chattanooga, Tennessee, and Hartford, Connecticut. According to Shubow, just a few new buildings could be enough to show that the last 75 years of modernist design have been a mistake. If we get beautiful, inspiring new federal courthouses and office buildings and contrast them to what had been built previously, he says, I think people will see that the president was right.
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E-Commerce
When I was in college, I couldnt close the front door to my dorm room. The wooden door swelled in the August heat. Multiple maintenance requests were made, and yet, weeks later, the problem remained unresolved. I went door to door to every room and found out how long people were waiting to have their urgent maintenance requests resolved. As it turns out, there was a process problem. I bypassed the usual channels and went with my list straight to the head of campus residences. After all, the process clearly wasnt working for anyone. You might be wondering, what does this have to do with the C-suite? The truth is, this experience mirrors what is happening in nearly every organization. Those at the top are often not aware of whats going on below. Its not that they dont care. They just have people who shield them from the truth. You see, the higher a leader rises, the less likely they are to hear honest feedback or unfiltered reality. Thats because asking the right questions and staying grounded in whats happening is a skill in itself. When leaders dont do it, it costs the organization. A leader might be making poor decisions due to inaccurate or incomplete data. Incomplete truths can lead to low psychological safety and trust, which we know can lead to disastrous outcomes. The leader might be missing out on cultural blind spots that lead to ethical or reputational failures. An organization that doesnt allow dissent will see a stall in innovation, which can lead to extinction. As a social scientist who coaches, speaks on, and writes about success and high achievers, including in my recent book, Ive helped many leaders learn how to increase their awareness and navigate what is happening on the front lines. There are several reasons why people guard senior leaders from the truth. Most arent malicious, but are based on self-preservation. Here are some of the most common reasons and ideas on how to act when you suspect this might be brewing: 1) Fear of consequences Employees self-censor to avoid appearing negative. Dont shoot the messenger” of bad news is a valid concern. Employees feel that if they share bad news, they risk being sidelined or worse, fired. At Ford, when Alan Mulally took over as CEO, he asked his leadership team to color-code project updates. Week after week, they were all green, until one brave executive finally submitted a red status, indicating things werent going well, and that he needed help. Instead of punishing him, Mulally applauded him and made him a shining example for the entire company. Mulallys red-yellow-green system made honesty a leadership requirement, not a risk.As a leader, you need to show your employees that you value and prioritize hearing the truth. Reward those who surface problems rather than those who maintain appearances. Make it clear that you cant help or redirect resources if you dont know the problem (and its extent). Now, there is a systematic way to do this so that you dont sound like a whiner. The presenter should share the goal, the current status, and what theyve tried so far. This shows that the presenter has done everything in their power and is looking for alternative solutions or ideas they might not have considered. Encourage upward feedback through surveys, town halls, or anonymous portals. Have regular communication where you say phrases like I hear there is a major problem with X. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. Here is our corrective course of action. This shows that your request to hear concerns, as painful as they may be, isnt performative. You want to be able to do something to remedy the situation, but first, you must know it exists. 2) Desire to please Everyone wants to be in the good graces of leadership. People often think that telling them what they want to hear will do just that. They end up sugarcoating updates to match what they think the leader wants to hear. They talk about their accomplishments and improvements while avoiding the areas of concern. 3) Organizational distance Multiple layers insulate leaders from day-to-day reality. When theyre confined to their offices and circles of influence, they dont often know whats happening on the front lines. Organizational etiquette means that people often report to their direct manager, not the head of the organization (although Gen Z seems to be breaking this mold).If people dont see you and know you, they cant approach you. Jared Lamb, a school principal, turned his office into a conference room and repurposed an AV cart as his desk, which allowed him to roll through the school and be around the students and teachers throughout the workday. This way, he was able to see everyone in action, and offer a helping hand exactly in the moment where they needed him, whether it was a teacher needing a bathroom break or helping with a child who needed extra attention. No, going fully mobile may not be conducive for everyone. You can, however, make the time to lead while walking around. Asking pivotal questions such as What are you working on? Whats your most pressing deadline? Where are you getting resistance? Did you find a solution to that problem you were facing? What have you tried? Where do you need help? This will actively and authentically show that you care. Youll also be on the front lines, so you can see when people are celebrating or supporting a colleague, which is something that leaders should be aware of. 4) Time scarcity As leaders become busier (and have fuller calendars), they rely on filtered summaries and dashboards. The problem is that those give glossed-over versions of reality. The critical question to ask here is Why? Why did that happen this way? Why didnt it happen before? Why is it taking so long? Instead of only having updates at meetings, use the time to understand the why behind the dashboard results. The most effective leaders arent just visionaries. Theyre truth-seekers. Surround yourself with those you can trust to tell you the truth and mentors who can help you seek it. Include people outside the chain of command and organization for diverse, candid input. You cant lead well if you dont know whats real. Remember, staying grounded isnt a passive state. Its a form of discipline that you need to practice.
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