Mary Pat Knight, CEO of Leaders Inspired, is a Transformation Strategist, Speaker, Facilitator, and Coach committed to leadership and emotional intelligence in the workplace. She is known for cutting through corporate drama to create laser focus for powerful business and personal results for her clients.
I watched something shift in a leader recently. It wasn’t dramatic. It was the quiet kind of shift you almost miss if you aren’t paying attention to the right things. We were in a session where a recurring pattern had finally become too loud to ignore.
A few years ago, I found myself in a friendship that had developed a low hum of friction I couldn’t quite name. We were both building something. Both driven. The kind of women who show up fully and expect the same from themselves in every room they enter.
I woke up this past weekend to three separate pieces of difficult news. Three people I care about are looking at something hard. Each of them is sitting with a situation that has no clean resolution in sight. I made my coffee and read the messages again.
I sat with two founders recently, and you could actually feel the temperature change depending on who was speaking. One was energized. He’d just fumbled a hiring decision that cost the firm time, money, and a decent chunk of goodwill.
We are hitting a massive, subterranean shift. This isn’t the kind of “disruption” that gets a catchy name in a trend report or a dedicated slide at a conference. It’s the more heavy-duty kind—the one you only start to feel when you’ve been watching leaders long enough.
There is something undeniably energizing about outrage. You can feel it in the body almost immediately. Certainty sharpens. The line between right and wrong seems to clarify. Someone must be called out.
One of the most common conversations I have when meeting with a new client revolves around accountability. Someone will confide, “We need more of it.” And then, almost in the same breath, they start describing just how hard it actually is to practice.
Paying attention is part of responsible leadership. But not all attention strengthens our capacity to lead. I don’t like how quickly my attention can drift toward the spectacle.
I’ve always liked that line. Not because it’s cynical, but because it’s honest. It reminds me that no matter how thoughtful, strategic, or well-intentioned we are, leadership rarely unfolds in a straight line.
Sometimes, in leadership, the question shifts. It’s no longer just what should I do, but something quieter and more personal. From where am I deciding? This question tends to surface when the stakes feel real and when emotions are involved.