My motto used to be, “I don’t want to be on a team unless I’m leading it.” (And yes, I am embarrassed to state this publicly.  Live and learn.)

Like so many of us brought up in American culture, I was trained that leading is somehow the loftiest (best?) way to relate to others, and that being decisive, charismatic, and risk-taking were key components of leading. Further, if given the choice between being a leader or a follower, distinguishing oneself as a leader is by far the more useful and satisfying.  Even in grade school, I was assessed for my ability to lead my classmates in playground and classroom activities.  Like most Americans, my grooming to become a leader began early.

Throughout my secondary school education and then later on in the workplace, the emphasis on “leadership” continued; its definition and embodiment was much discussed.  Debates raged about whether leadership was something one was born with, or whether it was a skill to be attained (or a mixture of both.)  If you Google “leadership” you can peruse hundreds of millions of articles on the topic.  Clearly, people think “leadership” is important.

And although I came to this realization the hard way, I have learned that there is something as important–maybe even more important–than leadership:  followership.  This realization was driven home during an extended consulting assignment in Tokyo.

One of the things we Americans are famous for is taking the leadership helm without paying much attention to the context in which we are leading.  (Sadly, it sometimes also means that we take the leadership helm without paying much attention to the people we are leading either.) We think that no matter where we are or what the situation, we can step in, size things up, make some reasonable plans, and “pull the trigger,” course-correcting as we go along.  This works pretty well pretty often in the States, and so this, or some version of it, is how we tend to approach the task of leading.

I don’t pretend to be an expert on this–and those of you who are, please chime in–but I think it is fair to say that leadership is a different kettle of fish in Japan.   In my experience, the definition and exercise of Japanese-style leadership is nearly unrecognizable to Americans. Suffice it to say that what looks like strong leadership to Japanese may be too subtle for Americans to even register that leadership is being exercised.  Conversely, American-style leadership often looks clueless, arrogant, and domineering to Japanese.   It was in this context that I took on an interim leadership position in a Japanese company.

Other pertinent data:

-I did not speak Japanese

-Most of my colleagues did not speak English

-Organizational Development is not a well known profession in Japan, so my OD skill set meant nothing to virtually everyone, and

-The Japanese business milieu is complex, nuanced, and subtle–and much of it is not easily accessible to outsiders

Thus began my prolonged lesson in capitulating to the fact that most everything I had ever known “like, 100% for sure” in California was not true in Japan.

Most successful business people have worked hard to hone their communication and critical thinking skills (speaking, writing, listening, and applying their own analysis and intuition to make meaning about what is going on.)   But in this situation, I was quite thwarted by my inability to speak Japanese. Therefore, I had to rely on and trust that my interpreter would communicate both the letter and the spirit of what I was saying, and, that he would facilitate my understanding of how others responded.

Having relied on my own hearing, my own words, and my own inner compass to succeed in my career, it was a radical act of trust to hand that power and responsibility over to my interpreter.  Relying on someone else to accurately convey the tone and content of even the simplest communication meant giving up everything I had learned to trust about myself.  Where I had been a confidently self-reliant and successful leader my whole life, suddenly I was completely dependent on someone else.  At this most basic of levels, I was forced to surrender, and believe me, I chafed mightily.*

However, as the weeks became months, I started to notice something. At first, while I was waiting for an interpretation to be made, I might zone out or think about my upcoming sushi dinner.  But gradually it dawned on me that simply listening and observing the other people during that interpretation time was full of data and meaning.  I began recognizing nonverbal cues that I hadn’t even seen before.  I listened to tone and inflection, even though I couldn’t understand words.  I began to get concerned when my colleagues and direct reports (“subordinates” as they are known in Japan) were concerned–even if I myself thought their concerns were groundless.  Over time, I let myself be informed, and sometimes even led by what my “subordinates” were telling me.

Without an independent ability to communicate and analyze, my ability to lead had been neutralized and I was impotent–or at least that’s what I thought.  However, I began to see that being forced out of “independent leader” mode had been incredibly useful.  I had learned how to listen better, how to ask better questions, and how to “join up” with the people I was supposedly leading.  I began to anticipate and respond to what other people perceived and what other people were concerned about.   I also learned how to use my rank and influence to support them in what they were trying to achieve, and in so doing, created a heartier bond with them.  I learned more about how my strategic visioning, my “leading,” didn’t always mesh with their tactical concerns at the front lines.  And that to ignore or diminish those tactical concerns put the team and the organization in peril.  In the end, I believe that being prevented from leading in the habitual way opened up new options for going forward.

Being in learner mode “by force” was an extremely humbling experience, one that I will not easily forget.  Although I have never felt more vulnerable and disoriented, I ultimately learned that becoming an earnest student–a good follower–was critical to becoming a more effective leader.

Today, I am often asked to coach people to become better leaders. Most of them worry about how to become more strategic, more visionary, and more decisive.  They want to cultivate an “executive presence” that is both authentic, and that inspires confidence in their colleagues.   They tell me that they have “an open door policy” and many of them truly try to be accessible to the people they lead.

These things are all important, but these are not the only ingredients in the making of a strong leader. You cannot lead if people do not elect to follow you.  And people will not elect to follow you if you don’t understand them, talk to and hear them, hold their concerns with respect, and attempt to balance their tactical concerns with the strategic vision you are setting for the group or the organization.  

In short, you must seek to earn their trust.  You must be willing to learn, to make mistakes, to not know, and to be informed and moved by your staff, publicly. You must be humble.

Leadership is not just a role inhabited singularly by one individual; it is an obligation and responsibility to an organization, to a group of others. Yes, great leaders are those who can incisively, bravely and independently solve problems and make key decisions.  They are also those who listen, and who allow themselves to be moved, persuaded and influenced by their colleagues and subordinates.

As I watch my Japanese colleagues on global teams struggle to “lead” and their American counterparts struggle to “follow,” I wonder if a new paradigm is being born. Perhaps it is not about our cultural training or temperamental preference to be a leader or a follower any more.  Maybe it is about being both a leader and a follower, and increasing your fluidity and capacity in both roles.  Above all, it may be about cultivating discernment about when best to lead and when best to follow, and humbly choosing a way forward.

I’m interested to know what YOU think the key ingredients to strong leadership and strong followership are?

*My heartfelt gratitude to J.U. for his kindness, patience and endless good humor as I learned to follow.