As leaders, we often carry a belief that we need to be right.
I know I did for many years.
For me, being right meant I was doing my job. I was expected to make decisions, provide direction, solve problems, and deliver results. Having the answer felt like part of what made me a good leader.
Wanting to succeed, be recognized, and have our ideas heard is not inherently wrong. These are perfectly legitimate human needs.
In fact, our ego plays a role in this.
We often think of ego as something negative, but it isn’t that simple. Our ego also helps us develop confidence, pursue goals, take on challenges, and believe we are capable of making a difference.
The same inner drive that says, “I can do this,” can sometimes evolve into, “I need to prove that I am right.”
And that shift can be difficult to notice—especially when being right has become associated with being competent, successful, or valuable as a leader.
That’s when the need to be right can become stronger than the need to understand.
When being right becomes a problem
We may stop listening—not because we don’t care, but because we are already preparing our response.
We may defend an idea instead of exploring another perspective.
We may interpret disagreement as resistance rather than information.
And ironically, the very things we are trying to achieve—being heard, respected, recognized, and successful—can begin to move further away from us.
Because when people sense that we need to be right, they may stop contributing.
They may agree without commitment.
They may withhold information.
They may stop challenging our assumptions.
And eventually, we can find ourselves surrounded by people who listen to us, but no longer tell us what we need to hear.
The need to be right can quietly create the very conditions that prevent us from being effective.
I am not flawless
I’ve worked for years on becoming more conscious of my ego.
But I am not flawless.
I do love to be right.
The difference is that I’ve learned to become more curious about why I want to be right.
Is it because I genuinely see something others may not?
Or is it because being right makes me feel competent, respected, safe, or in control?
That distinction can change everything.
I see it particularly clearly with my son.
When he is making a difficult business decision, my experience can immediately spot what I believe are potential dangers.
I may want to stop him from making a mistake.
And sometimes, that instinct comes from love and experience.
But it can also come from something else:
My need to be right.
What if he needs to make that mistake?
What if he is right?
What if he has found a way forward that I haven’t experienced yet?
What if my experience, which I genuinely want to use to help him, becomes the very thing that prevents me from seeing what he can see?
Those questions don’t mean I should stay silent.
They mean I need to distinguish between sharing my perspective and needing my perspective to prevail.
That’s a very different thing.
What if we don’t need to be right?
The alternative isn’t to stop having opinions, confidence, or conviction.
It’s to become curious enough to ask:
What if I don’t need to be right to lead well?
What if my role isn’t always to have the answer, but to create the conditions for the best answer to emerge?
What if leadership isn’t about being the person who sees everything first?
What if sometimes it is about being secure enough to recognize that someone else may see something we don’t?
That requires a different kind of strength.
The strength to pause.
To listen.
To question our own assumptions.
To say:
“I hadn’t considered that.”
And sometimes, simply:
“You may be right.”
That isn’t weakness.
It may be one of the most powerful expressions of leadership.
Because ultimately, being right is not the goal.
Creating the conditions for people, ideas, and possibilities to emerge is.
And sometimes, the best way to do that is to quiet the part of us that needs to have the answer—and become curious about what we might still be missing.
Facebook
X
LinkedIn