Over the years, I've come to appreciate that one of the hardest parts of leadership is recognizing that not everyone contributes at the same level. I wish that weren't true, but experience has taught me otherwise.
Some people consistently solve problems, take ownership, and move the organization forward. Others struggle, sometimes because they need coaching, and sometimes because they're simply in the wrong role. I've learned that pretending everyone performs equally isn't kindness. It usually creates frustration for the people carrying the heaviest load.
Before drawing conclusions about performance, I try to make sure expectations are clear. I've seen too many situations where poor results were caused more by confusion than by lack of ability.
People deserve to know what success looks like. When expectations are clear, strong contributors tend to reveal themselves quickly, and coaching conversations become much easier.
Throughout my career, I've found that my highest-performing teammates don't necessarily want less responsibility. They want meaningful responsibility.
I've learned that giving important work to capable people isn't favoritism. I view it as stewardship.
When talented people are entrusted with meaningful work, good things tend to happen. Decisions improve, execution speeds up, and innovation becomes more natural.
This lesson wasn't easy.
Earlier in my career, I often waited too long. I hoped problems would solve themselves. Sometimes they did, but more often they didn't.
What I eventually discovered was that unresolved performance issues don't just affect one person. They affect everyone around them. High performers quietly begin carrying more than their share, and over time resentment starts to replace enthusiasm.
I've come to believe that accountability is an act of respect. People deserve honest conversations, clear feedback, and the opportunity to improve.
Some do.
Some don't.
I've made enough mistakes over the years to know that assumptions can be dangerous.
Whenever possible, I try to make decisions based on results, customer experiences, team feedback, and alignment with our values. Facts don't eliminate difficult decisions, but they do make those decisions easier to explain and easier to defend.
One thing I've observed repeatedly is that great people enjoy working with other great people.
When excellence is recognized and accountability is consistent, the culture tends to improve naturally. Expectations rise. Collaboration becomes easier. Mediocrity becomes uncomfortable.
I've found that culture is built far more by what leaders tolerate than by what they say.
Not everyone succeeds in every environment.
I've had the privilege of watching some people grow far beyond my expectations. I've also had to acknowledge that despite coaching, encouragement, and patience, some individuals were simply not thriving.
Those decisions are never enjoyable, but I've learned that keeping someone in the wrong seat isn't fair to the organization, and often isn't fair to them either. Sometimes a change creates opportunities neither side could see before.
After nearly five decades in business, I've become convinced that leadership isn't about being the hero. It isn't about doing everything myself.
My responsibility is to build an environment where people can do their best work and where strong contributors aren't constantly compensating for unresolved weaknesses.
Excellence doesn't happen accidentally. In my experience, it grows from clear expectations, consistent accountability, and the willingness to make difficult decisions when necessary.
And I've learned that those decisions always begin with me.