Why Being Courageous Makes You a Better Leader—And How to Get There

In the 2008 movie Taken, Liam Neeson plays the character Bryan Mills, whose daughter is kidnapped. I’m sure you’ve seen the movie’s most famous moment, where he talks to the kidnapper over the phone:

I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom I can tell you I don't have money, but what I do have are a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my daughter go now that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you and I will kill you.

The storyline from Taken is not difficult to follow (SPOILER ALERT...sort of). Bryan Mills tracks down the kidnapper, and kills more people than you can count on the way, in all sorts of interesting and action-filled ways. It’s not complex, but it is exciting—not because you don’t know what might happen next, but because of the particular characteristic that Bryan Mills demonstrates throughout: courage.

We love courage.

Courage is admired in many walks of life, and has been admired throughout history. A lot of modern-day sports and entertainment specifically appeal to us because those participating are showing courage, whether that’s a professional Paralympic athlete pushing their body as far as it will go, or a celebrity braving potential shame by dancing in front of the entire nation. This isn’t a new thing. The myths and legends that have become part of global culture repeatedly return to this idea of courage, whether that’s worked out through Theseus and the Minotaur, Robin Hood, Lord of the Rings, or Schindler’s List.

Without courage, attempts at leadership are disasters waiting to happen. You have many opportunities to offend others, step on people’s toes, and invite criticism. Actively choosing to put yourself in that situation is a calling for the brave, so courage is a fundamental requirement for anyone who wants to get a positive result from leading others.

We don't like arrogance.

Too frequently, however, the line between courage and arrogance becomes blurred. Someone I used to work with, Jon, relished in engaging in conflict. In many ways, he could have taught many useful lessons to those who show timidity in team discussions. Jon’s input wasn’t always helpful. A phrase he often used was, "I’m afraid you’ve just got to accept it." He wasn’t interested in genuinely engaging in positive two-way conflict, he just wanted people to submit to his superior intelligence and more senior job title.

Courage, as with so many important character aspects, is a challenge to get right. It’s easy to imagine a scale, with cowardice at one end, arrogance at the other, and the sweet spot in the middle of admirable courage. It's easy... and it's wrong. It’s far more realistic to imagine that scale as a hill. It feels as if a choice of how to lead is like kicking a football, hoping it will land right on the top, right in the middle. If you're not strong enough, you're a weak leader and the ball will roll backwards; someone will quite happily take advantage of you. And if you're too strong, you're being too bold; the ball will overshoot, and someone will accuse you of being inflexible and insensitive.

It's possible to be courageous and remain humble.

You can be courageous in leading without overstepping the mark into arrogance. The trick is to ask yourself two key questions: (1) what will you fight, and (2) how will you fight?

These questions have plagued humanity since records began. Wars have been fought over issues as important as a threat to the human species and as trivial as a family feud. The close of the Second World War saw the Allies dropping nuclear bombs onto cities housing civilians, an action that I’m sure left those who made that decision questioning the ethics for as long as they lived. Which wars are worth engaging in, and how to engage, have been hotly debated by philosophers throughout the centuries, leading to the development of what’s become known as the Just War Theory.

One element of the theory, known as jus in bello, specifically looks at how to engage, considering three key areas: targets, proportionality, and weapons.

The idea of just targets in war refers to the idea that conflict should only be aimed at those who are a threat. In other words, shoot those who are shooting at you, and don’t shoot civilians and the wounded. The application to the realm of leadership is relatively straightforward. Don’t argue with people who aren’t arguing with you. This doesn’t mean never fight, it means don’t aim your arguments at people who already agree with you.

That may sound like a silly thing to say, but think about it for a moment. I stumbled across a blog post a while ago in which the author was arguing that all FTSE100 companies should have enforced quotas to ensure that a minimum proportion of Board members were women. The blog post’s comments had quickly become polarised and aggressive. Negative conflict was happening, with no progress towards resolution. What’s interesting is that every person writing a comment agreed that men’s representation on FTSE100 Boards was unreasonably high. It’s really easy to get distracted by details you disagree on, when everyone actually agrees with the fundamental point being made.

Do what you can to dig deeper than the surface-level issue, to find something you agree on.

Once you’re both on the same page, you can target your leadership influence at the issue, and at those who genuinely disagree at an important level, rather than at those who are actually the solution to the issue.

The idea of proportionality is that, sometimes, attacking a just target will lead to collateral damage, and that should be considered, and avoided and/or minimised as much as possible. In many situations there’s the chance that other targets will suffer, for example attacking a military base that’s also housing soldiers’ families. Arguing that "they knew what risk they were taking when they moved there" isn’t a reason to take that action, it’s an excuse to not have to think about it. When it comes to leading, this means only drawing in people who are directly involved. If Jane says something you disagree with, and you’re confident that Simon will agree with you, don’t respond by saying, "Jane, you’re wrong. Isn’t that right, Simon?" If Simon wants to engage, that’s up to him.

This isn’t just about keeping a discussion between those who are involved. It also means only using evidence that’s genuinely available, and protecting those who may provide additional evidence unless you explicitly have their permission. The person who has to start producing emails from other people to prove their point and resorts to, "Well, such-and-such said…" doesn’t have enough weight behind their argument, and risks turning that positive opportunity sour.

Finally, it’s important to consider the weapons used. We’re all familiar with the old adage, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me," which we recognise as being absolutely false. Words can sting in more meaningful ways for far longer—I’ve broken bones and can’t remember what that feels like, and people have said hurtful things to me that can still today make me feel the way I did when I first heard them.

In contrast, Edward Bulwer-Lytton was the 19th Century poet and politician who coined the famous phrase "the pen is mightier than the sword," which rings true. Words are far more powerful than we give them credit for. By keeping the discussion on topic rather than getting distracted by side stories, by focussing your attention on the issues rather than arguing over semantics, by attacking a weak line of reasoning rather than a person you disagree with, by maintaining an emotionally appropriate state rather than resorting to swearing and threatening, you’re making your position much stronger for that particular scenario, you’re approaching it with integrity, and you’re building your credibility for future leadership opportunities.

Talking about objective facts and expressing emotions clearly and appropriately are so important, and will build your case when leading. Similarly, avoiding the temptation to call people names, lie, or communicate your personal opinion as truth builds the credibility of your argument. It’s particularly important to keep a secret weapon in your arsenal that most people don’t have access to: changing your mind. Use this carefully, because it’s a tremendous leadership ability and a key to seeing success in leadership.

The above is an edited, abridged excerpt from The Conflict Con.