Ghariza Mahavira for Unsplash+
This week I noticed something I've probably seen a hundred times but only recently been able to put words to.
Maybe this is what happens after being in the role long enough. Or maybe it's what happens when you start writing every week and suddenly realize the same lessons keep circling back until you finally learn them.
A problem came up and people got bent out of shape about it. This is easy to do, of course, when you're close to the work and I have grace for that. But before too long I found myself inside the echo chamber alongside the theories and frustrations and feelings.
And as that was happening I had one of those weird out-of-body moments. You know the kind where you can almost see yourself from above while still being in the middle of the conversation? While floating up there I noticed the leader wasn't with us. They were completely unbothered and operating at a totally different altitude. No visible reaction, no added fuel. Just... above it.
And I thought: huh. Why is that gap so vast?
I'm coming at today's article with two observations I tried to separate in writing this but couldn't, so bear with me.
The first is about the leader. The best leaders aren't the most engaged ones, they're the most selective ones. And I think we wildly underestimate how intentional that selectivity actually is.
If I had to put a number on it, the best leaders I've been around take on maybe 1% of the noise that comes at them. I honestly believe with every fiber of my soul that it's that low. The worst take on closer to 99%. The difference between those two isn't composure as a personality trait, it's a deeply held belief about what actually deserves their energy.
The best companies reflect this too. The most focused, highest-performing organizations I've seen don't spend meaningful time on the 99%. They're almost ruthlessly oriented around the 1% that moves the business. Everything else gets filtered before it ever becomes a real conversation. These leaders and these companies know that emotional inconsistency taxes organizational performance. And I'm beginning to wonder if the leaders who really understand this don't just "stay calm in the storm." I think they don't believe most storms are real in the first place.
Which brings me to point two. Us.
I deeply admire the 1% leaders but that altitude might be a luxury we don't have. People are more candid with us. We hear the full backstory, the hard-earned frustration, the team's insecurities. The can you believe they did that? versions of events. Staying close to the weather is part of the job. But we can't afford to get swept up in every storm either. This means we do a delicate dance, and as much as I'd like to fully master it, I'm not sure that's possible. It's a balance we'll always be negotiating, making our role both important and taxing.
The real work is learning to borrow that lens before earning it through repetition. Which means the next time something gets loud, before you step into it, before you take a position or add heat, ask yourself honestly: is this the 1%? Or is this noise I'm about to make real by engaging with it?
Selectivity is the real currency, and it's hard earned. It's a master class, watching great leaders decide what's worth their time and what isn't. And more often than not, most isn't.
Because if everything becomes important, eventually nothing is. And in work like ours, helping protect the 1% might actually be the whole job.
Affiliate Link Disclaimer: Some of the links in this email are affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission if you buy through them, at no extra cost to you.