“I knew as well as I knew anything that the oppressor must be liberated just as surely as the oppressed.” — Nelson Mandela Of all the leaders about whom I wrote in If You Will Lead: Enduring Wisdom for 21st-Century Leaders, Nelson Mandela was simultaneously both the most challenging and the most rewarding. There were so many lessons we could learn from Mandela that I struggled to pick just one. In my book, I focus on the selflessness that made him the leader capable of ending Apartheid and establishing a free South Africa. Today, in honor of his birthday, my focus is on the self-reflection that transformed him into the leader he became. Mandela’s journey from violent revolutionary to unifying statesman provides great lessons in the effort it truly takes to transform oneself. It takes emotional intelligence, moral courage, and deep love to lead a country that was so steeped in hatred and division to heal rather than to devolve into retribution and revenge. While no executive is facing the challenges Mandela confronted, we can learn a great deal from him as we tackle today’s challenges. Whether we are dealing with complex organizational changes, fractured cultures, disruptive change, or market uncertainty, Nelson Mandela shows us how to use self-reflection to become leaders whose values are revealed in our actions. 1. Reflection is Not Weakness—It’s Readiness Nelson Mandela spent 27 years in prison. Much of that time was in solitary confinement, completely cut off from the world he sought to change. But rather than succumbing to anger or despair, he used that time for self-examination and discovery. He thought about his core values and how they had both served him and hurt him. He considered how his values needed to evolve so he could use them to effect lasting change. Lesson for Leaders: We are all busy, and life moves fast, so reflection can feel like a luxury. But the best leaders know that clarity doesn’t come from action—it comes from contemplation and deep thought. Before we can determine the best course of action, we must understand who we are and what truly matters. This clarity enables us to identify the changes we must make within ourselves to become the leaders our organization needs us to be, launching new initiatives or driving transformational change. 2. Emotional Mastery Enables Strategic Clarity Mandela emerged from prison as a calm, composed, and loving leader. Most of us would have felt angry and resentful and prepared to exact his revenge. He once said, “I had to leave my bitterness and hatred behind. If I hadn’t, I’d still be in prison.” This was not naïve optimism. It was strategic clarity. He understood that the emotional tone he set would shape the nation’s future. This clarity gave him the wisdom and courage to create the Truth and Reconciliation Commission that ensured a peaceful transition from Apartheid to majority rule. Lesson for Leaders: If you’re leading a turnaround, merger, or culture shift, your emotional tone matters more than your org chart. Can you hold competing truths? Can you lead with strength and humility? The ability to self-regulate—especially under pressure—is essential to transformational leadership. 3. Reconciliation Is a Strategy, Not Just a Sentiment Rather than seek revenge, Mandela chose reconciliation. He invited former enemies into dialogue. He wore the jersey of the Springboks—long a symbol of Apartheid—at the Rugby World Cup to unite the country. He understood that healing fractures was not just morally right—it was strategically vital. Lesson for Leaders: Business leaders often inherit dysfunctional teams, unhealthy cultures, or lingering resentment from past leadership. Ignoring these wounds doesn’t make them go away. Acknowledging pain, naming the past, and modeling reconciliation isn’t soft—it’s how you build trust, engagement, and loyalty. 4. Legacy is Built One Choice at a Time Mandela’s legacy wasn’t built on grand speeches—it was forged in daily decisions rooted in his core values and vision. This helped him make difficult decisions. He understood that how he led reflected who he was. This, in turn, empowered him to lead selflessly, because he knew his actions and decisions weren’t about him—they were about changing South Africa and the world. Lesson for Leaders: Legacy isn’t something you think about in retirement. It’s being shaped in every conversation, every conflict, every difficult decision. What kind of organization do you want to leave behind—and who are you becoming to make that possible? Final Thought: Every Organization Needs More Mandelas We don’t have to be trying to change a country or effect radical change to learn from Nelson Mandela. You just have to be willing to do the work he did: the hard, unglamorous, interior work of reflection, self-examination, and refinement. Mandel teaches that to change anything, we must start with ourselves. When we know who we are, we can bring the best version of ourselves to serve those we lead. Register today for this life changing retreat. https://www.soulshinestudios.com/peru/
Nearly 30 years ago, I was walking with my father. I was absolutely fuming. My wife and I had had an argument, and I was ranting – full of righteous indignation. After letting me go on for longer than most would have tolerated my carping, my father stopped and turned to me to ask two questions. First: “Are you through?” When I responded in the affirmative, he asked, “Why does this matter to you?” I remember thinking, “Haven’t you been paying attention?” Instead, I simply said, “I’m right,” and so, by extension, I believed she was wrong. Again, my father demonstrated the patience that I loved in him. He replied that, even if I was right, why did the issue we were fighting about matter. He encouraged me not to answer the question. “Just think about it while we walk.” For the next few blocks, I stewed on the question. I will admit that, for the first block or so, my righteous indignation won, but then something shifted. I started to think about the issue at the root of the initial argument. I have no recollection of what it was, but I do recall thinking that my father was on to something. The issue wasn’t nearly as important as I had made it. I had allowed my ego to produce an emotion-driven response to a relatively minor disagreement. No – this is not an article about marital harmony. My father’s question works in any relationship where conflict or contention plays a role. For most people, our work is fraught with conflicts and disagreements, and many times these situations turn unproductive because we allow ourselves to get sucked into arguments that don’t matter. Don’t get me wrong, there are many things that are worth fighting for and about. My point is that we typically waste our energy on the wrong things. We fail to recognize what matters. There are so many layers to the question, “Why does this matter?” Some are obvious: Some are less obvious, but potentially more relevant in terms of our emotional response: These are just a few of the angles to consider when we begin digging into the original question. I do not believe anyone can or should run through a long list of questions to determine whether they should or should not take a stand when an issue emerges. Rather, I am advocating for a deliberate response versus an instinctive response. When we force ourselves to stop (or even slow down) to examine why something is bothering us and to discern why it matters, we take a critical step in derailing unhealthy and unproductive emotional responses. This slight pause gives us the opportunity to respond deliberately and powerfully. One situation may compel us to take an immediate and firm stance while another may lead us to ignore the issue, and others may elicit something in between these extremes. Imagine a colleague with whom you have a healthy and slightly competitive relationship takes an action that benefits him but puts one of your projects in jeopardy. You learn about this in a large meeting with some important stakeholders, including your boss and the sponsor of the impacted project. Early in my career, my instinctive response would have been to get angry and go on the attack, creating a contentious situation and forcing a rash decision to resolve the issue. Instead, when we ask, “Why does this matter?” we may recognize that the best course of action is to take the issue offline and resolve it privately, or we may decide that immediate and decisive action is required. This moment of discernment is where the deeper questions listed above may come into play. We assess the urgency and the importance of a situation and act accordingly. Depending on how we answer these questions, we may accept the short-term disappointment or frustration of our stakeholders to preserve an important relationship. Conversely, we may decide that the risk is too great to wait, so we may confront the issues immediately and directly. Regardless of the choice, the act of slowing down and responding deliberately increases the probability of achieving our desired outcome. Those who know me well are likely to see in my example that the practice of asking why something matters is more of an aspiration than a habit. I am still too quick to go on the offensive when I feel threatened or slighted. However, I have come to learn that often the only thing being threatened is my ego. Developing this awareness has allowed me to take a response that is rooted in my core values rather than defensive reflex.
Last Tuesday, I was working at the polls, and I met a young father who had his son in tow. I remember doing the same thing when my children were little. This father believed that voting was important, and he wanted his son to understand that and to see him taking part in the electoral process. We talked for several minutes, and he said he had to get back to work. He was a restaurant manager, and he wanted to see if anyone who wanted to vote had done so prior to the polls closing. I commented on how great it is for organizations to recognize the importance of voting and give their employees time to exercise this precious right. He laughed and said, “It’s not a corporate policy. It’s mine.” He said he really didn’t have the authority to do things like that, but he felt it was important enough to bend the rules. His rationale made sense to me. All of his employees live within a few miles of the restaurant, and he asked them to vote before or after the lunch /dinner rushes. This act of civic engagement cost him almost nothing, but it meant a lot to his employees.
Several months ago, one of my executive leadership coaching clients started our session by venting his frustration about the state of politics in America. It is easy to share his frustration. As a resident of one of the “battleground” states in the upcoming election, I am overwhelmed by the volume of commercials and deeply disturbed by their universal lack of civility. Although I shared his feelings in general, I found myself surprised by the overarching conclusion he had drawn about the problem’s root cause. He stated emphatically, “The problem is principles!” When I asked him to elaborate, he said that he felt that in the name of principled leadership, politicians have become rigid and inflexible. “They are unwilling to cooperate, collaborate, or compromise.”
“It’s not supposed to be fun. That’s why they call it work.” That was my father’s attempt at humor whenever I complained about chores around the house. I know he was only kidding, but for many people, this is how they truly feel. It’s work, so it is supposed to be hard and unpleasant. The idea that work could be fun is almost counter-cultural. Several years ago, in spite of what my father said, I came to the realization that work not only can be fun, it should be. That doesn’t mean that we will always love every aspect of our work, but I believe we are doing ourselves a real disservice if we don’t strive to find employment that is fulfilling and enjoyable. This new way of looking at work was a primary driver behind my decision to leave the relative security of my corporate life for the uncertainty of entrepreneurship.