There is something rather fascinating about the way organisations decide who qualifies as a leader. We have developed elaborate structures for appointing people to positions of authority, complete with competency frameworks, performance assessments, succession plans and increasingly impressive job titles, yet we remain remarkably inconsistent in distinguishing between someone who has been given responsibility for other people and someone who is genuinely capable of leading them. Somewhere along the way, we appear to have accepted that progression through an organisational hierarchy is evidence of leadership ability, despite the fact that the qualities required to secure a promotion are not necessarily the qualities required to exercise power responsibly once that promotion has been achieved.

It is an interesting assumption, particularly when you consider how frequently organisations discover that someone who was an excellent individual contributor is a rather less impressive manager. Technical competence, commercial success and an ability to navigate internal politics can all contribute to career progression, but none automatically demonstrates sound judgement, emotional intelligence, integrity or the ability to create an environment in which other people can perform effectively. Nevertheless, once an individual acquires sufficient seniority, their opinions can begin to carry weight that has remarkably little to do with the quality of the opinions themselves. An idea that might have been questioned when proposed by a junior colleague can suddenly become strategically important when repeated by someone with a more impressive title, which is perhaps one of the more absurd features of organisational life.

Authority is conferred, leadership is earned

The distinction between leadership and authority is particularly important because the two are frequently treated as interchangeable when, in reality, they operate quite differently. Authority is conferred through formal structures; it gives someone the right to make decisions, allocate responsibilities and hold others accountable. Leadership, by contrast, depends on the credibility, judgement and conduct of the individual exercising that authority. An organisation can require employees to follow instructions, but it cannot require them to trust the person issuing those instructions, and it certainly cannot manufacture respect through an organisational chart. Someone may have the final say in a meeting without having made the most valuable contribution to it, just as someone with relatively little formal authority may exert considerable positive influence through their expertise, integrity and willingness to support others.

From a governance perspective, this distinction is considerably more than an interesting philosophical debate about management styles. The way authority is exercised has a direct bearing on organisational culture, decision-making quality, risk identification and the effectiveness of internal controls. A business in which seniority is routinely confused with infallibility is unlikely to create particularly favourable conditions for constructive challenge, especially when the individuals responsible for raising concerns are also dependent on those in authority for their performance assessments, progression opportunities and continued employment. The problem is not necessarily that people stop identifying risks; it is that they become increasingly selective about which risks they are prepared to discuss, with whom and under what circumstances.

The inconvenient question

I have always thought that one of the most revealing indicators of organisational culture is what happens when someone disagrees with a decision, particularly when that disagreement comes from someone younger, less experienced or more junior than the person responsible for making it. Most organisations are perfectly comfortable with employees demonstrating initiative, independent thinking and professional curiosity when those qualities reinforce an existing strategy or produce an outcome that management already wanted. The more interesting test comes when someone asks an inconvenient question, identifies a flaw in a proposal or challenges an assumption that a senior individual has become personally invested in defending. At that point, the response often tells us considerably more about the organisation’s actual values than any corporate statement about openness, collaboration or integrity ever could.

In a genuinely healthy environment, disagreement is treated as information to be considered rather than a personal challenge to be defeated. That does not mean every objection is valid, every decision requires consensus or managers should abandon their responsibilities whenever someone expresses a different opinion. It simply means recognising that an individual’s position within the hierarchy does not determine whether their reasoning is sound. Unfortunately, some organisational cultures are rather less comfortable with that principle, and legitimate challenge can become reframed as negativity, poor attitude, a lack of commercial awareness or the familiar accusation that someone is not quite the right cultural fit. These descriptions are particularly convenient because they allow an organisation to characterise a disagreement as a problem with the individual raising it, rather than examining whether the underlying concern deserves attention.

The consequences are not always dramatic or immediately visible. An employee may simply find that their contributions receive less consideration, that they are excluded from discussions in which they previously participated or that their willingness to question decisions becomes an informal consideration when future opportunities arise. Other employees observe these interactions and adjust their own behaviour accordingly, often without anyone explicitly instructing them to remain silent. Over time, an organisation can develop a culture in which people become exceptionally skilled at anticipating what leadership wants to hear, while the information that leadership actually needs becomes progressively harder to obtain. This is an especially dangerous position for any organisation operating in a complex regulatory environment, where effective governance depends on the timely identification and escalation of matters that may be inconvenient, commercially uncomfortable or contrary to established assumptions.

What makes this particularly interesting is that organisations are often very good at documenting the governance arrangements that should prevent these problems. There may be extensive policies covering whistleblowing, escalation, conduct, accountability and conflicts of interest, supported by training programmes and carefully articulated expectations about organisational behaviour. Yet the existence of a policy tells us relatively little about whether employees believe it is safe to use it. A speak-up framework is of limited practical value if the people expected to engage with it have already observed that challenging the wrong individual can have consequences, and a commitment to psychological safety means very little if employees are required to demonstrate that safety by taking personal risks simply to establish whether it exists.

This is why I find the relationship between leadership and organisational culture so important. Culture is not simply the collection of values an organisation chooses to publish; it is the pattern of behaviour that becomes normalised through what leaders reward, discourage, ignore or tolerate. Employees are generally quite capable of recognising the difference between an organisation’s stated expectations and its operational reality, particularly when the same behaviours are treated differently depending on the seniority of the person involved. If a junior employee is criticised for failing to follow a procedure while a senior manager is repeatedly permitted to disregard it, the organisation has communicated something rather more influential than whatever appears in its code of conduct. The message is that accountability is conditional, and that the rules governing acceptable behaviour may become increasingly flexible as an individual acquires more authority.

What we teach the next generation

There is also a wider question about how these expectations are established in the first place, particularly for young people entering employment through further education, apprenticeships and early-career opportunities. We rightly place considerable emphasis on employability, professionalism, communication and the development of workplace skills, but I wonder whether we give sufficient attention to helping emerging professionals understand the difference between respecting legitimate authority and accepting that authority without question. Young people entering the workplace are often acutely aware of their relative lack of experience and influence, and it is entirely understandable that they may be reluctant to challenge someone responsible for assessing their performance or determining their future opportunities. However, if their introduction to professional life teaches them that progression depends primarily on being agreeable, avoiding difficult conversations and demonstrating loyalty to the most senior person in the room, we should not be surprised when those behaviours become embedded as they progress through their careers.

There is a considerable difference between teaching someone to communicate a challenge constructively and teaching them that challenging a decision is inherently unprofessional. The former develops judgement, confidence and an appreciation of organisational responsibilities, while the latter risks producing professionals who are exceptionally good at following established processes but considerably less comfortable identifying when those processes are ineffective, inappropriate or simply wrong. In governance, risk and compliance, that distinction is particularly significant because the effectiveness of a control function depends on its ability to exercise independent judgement, including in circumstances where its conclusions may be unwelcome. An organisation cannot reasonably expect its employees to demonstrate professional scepticism while simultaneously creating an environment in which scepticism is interpreted as disloyalty.

Different minds, familiar assumptions

I also think there is an important neurodiversity dimension to this discussion, particularly when we consider how organisations interpret communication styles and responses to authority. Some neurodivergent professionals may approach workplace interactions with a stronger emphasis on logic, consistency, clarity or the literal meaning of instructions, rather than the unwritten expectations associated with hierarchy and status. An autistic employee who questions why a particular process exists may be seeking to understand its purpose, identify an inconsistency or establish whether there is a more effective approach, yet that same question can be interpreted as disrespectful in an environment where seniority is expected to discourage scrutiny. The problem is not necessarily the question being asked, but the assumptions made about the intention behind it.

This creates an uncomfortable contradiction for organisations that publicly celebrate neurodiversity as a source of innovation and alternative thinking while remaining reluctant to accommodate the behaviours through which those perspectives may be expressed. It is relatively easy to promote the commercial benefits of cognitive diversity in a recruitment campaign, but considerably more difficult to demonstrate that commitment when an employee’s different way of thinking results in a direct challenge to a manager’s preferred approach. If an organisation only welcomes alternative perspectives when they reinforce existing decisions, it is not meaningfully embracing cognitive diversity; it is simply appreciating agreement delivered by people with different neurological profiles. Genuine inclusion requires leaders to distinguish between a communication style they may find unfamiliar and conduct that is actually inappropriate, rather than allowing personal discomfort to become the basis for judgements about professionalism or suitability.

Mistaking certainty for judgement

There is a related issue in the way confidence is frequently interpreted as competence, particularly in environments where visibility and presentation are important determinants of professional progression. Someone who speaks fluently, dominates discussions and expresses considerable certainty can easily be perceived as possessing leadership potential, even where the substance of their contributions is relatively limited. Meanwhile, a quieter professional who considers competing explanations, acknowledges uncertainty or takes additional time to formulate a response may be regarded as less decisive, despite demonstrating precisely the qualities that support responsible decision-making. This is not to suggest that confidence is undesirable, but rather that organisations should be careful not to mistake the performance of certainty for evidence of sound judgement.

Indeed, one of the more concerning characteristics of poor leadership is an inability to acknowledge the possibility of being wrong. Individuals who associate their authority with always having the correct answer may become increasingly defensive when confronted with contradictory evidence, particularly where they believe reconsidering a decision would undermine their credibility. Yet the capacity to revise a position in response to better information is not a weakness; it is an essential component of effective governance. Boards and senior executives are routinely expected to make decisions in conditions of uncertainty, and the quality of those decisions depends in part on whether they are willing to consider evidence that challenges their initial assumptions. A leader who discourages dissent may preserve the appearance of decisiveness, but that appearance can come at the expense of the information required to make an informed decision.

The difficulty, of course, is that many traditional measures of leadership effectiveness do not necessarily capture these behaviours. Financial performance, delivery against objectives and operational efficiency can provide useful indicators of organisational success, but they do not automatically reveal how that success has been achieved or whether the underlying culture is sustainable. A team may consistently meet its targets while operating under considerable pressure from a manager who discourages challenge, just as a senior executive may be highly regarded by their own superiors while being experienced very differently by the people who report to them. It is therefore entirely possible for an organisation to reward leadership behaviours that produce favourable short-term outcomes while simultaneously weakening the conditions required for effective risk management, employee retention and long-term resilience.

This raises some important questions for boards, governing bodies and those responsible for organisational oversight. When assessing leadership effectiveness, how much attention is given to the experiences of people who have relatively little organisational power? Are concerns about management conduct considered alongside conventional performance indicators, or are they dismissed where the individual concerned is otherwise regarded as commercially successful? Do employees have meaningful opportunities to challenge decisions without fearing that doing so will affect their professional standing? Perhaps most importantly, when an organisation describes its culture as open and inclusive, what evidence exists beyond the assurances of the people responsible for creating that culture?

These questions are not necessarily easy to answer, particularly because the individuals best placed to describe the realities of organisational culture may also have the strongest reasons to be cautious about doing so. Employee surveys, exit interviews, grievance patterns, staff turnover and internal audit findings can all provide useful insights, but none should be interpreted in isolation or treated as a substitute for understanding the circumstances in which employees operate. A low number of reported concerns, for example, may indicate that an organisation has relatively few problems, but it may equally suggest that employees lack confidence in the mechanisms available to raise them. Similarly, positive feedback about senior leadership may be reassuring, but its significance depends partly on whether people genuinely believe they can provide less favourable feedback without consequences.

Someone worth listening to

For educational institutions and employers developing the next generation of professionals, there is an opportunity to approach leadership development rather differently. Rather than focusing exclusively on confidence, communication, ambition and the ability to manage others, we should place greater emphasis on intellectual humility, accountability, constructive challenge and the responsible exercise of influence. Young people should understand that leadership does not begin when they acquire their first management title, just as responsibility for organisational integrity does not sit exclusively with those occupying senior positions. The ability to recognise an issue, raise it appropriately and contribute to a better decision is itself a form of leadership, even when the person demonstrating it has no formal authority whatsoever.

Equally, those already occupying positions of authority need to recognise that creating space for challenge does not diminish their role. There is nothing inherently threatening about a junior colleague identifying a problem that a senior manager has overlooked, and a leader who responds constructively to that situation is likely to strengthen rather than weaken their credibility. The difficulty arises when authority becomes so closely associated with personal status that disagreement is interpreted as an attempt to undermine it. At that point, organisational decision-making can become less concerned with establishing what is correct and more concerned with protecting who is perceived to be correct, which is hardly an encouraging foundation for good governance.

None of this is an argument against hierarchy, management accountability or the need for clear decision-making responsibilities. Organisations require structures through which authority can be exercised, and effective leadership sometimes involves making difficult decisions that will not receive universal agreement. The distinction is that responsible authority remains open to scrutiny, while poor leadership often seeks to avoid it. A manager does not have to accept every challenge to demonstrate respect for the person raising it, but they should be capable of explaining their reasoning, considering relevant evidence and distinguishing between disagreement and misconduct. Those are not extraordinary expectations; they are fundamental requirements of exercising power responsibly.

Ultimately, I think we need to become rather more sceptical of the assumption that someone is a good leader simply because they have successfully progressed into a leadership position. Promotion establishes that an organisation has chosen to confer authority on an individual, but it does not establish that the individual has earned the confidence of the people they are expected to lead. That confidence develops through consistency, fairness, competence, accountability and the willingness to exercise judgement without treating every challenge as a threat. It is demonstrated in the way people respond when things go wrong, when uncomfortable information emerges and when someone with considerably less influence has the courage to suggest that a decision might not be the right one.

Perhaps the most revealing question is not whether people follow someone’s instructions when they are required to do so, but whether they would continue to value that person’s judgement if the formal authority attached to their position disappeared. It is a distinction that organisations would do well to consider when appointing managers, developing future leaders and evaluating the effectiveness of their governance arrangements, because there is a considerable difference between having the power to make people listen and being someone worth listening to.

And if the only reason people agree with you is that you are the most senior person in the room, you may have considerably more authority than you have leadership.

By Mitzi Danielson-Kaslik MICA CG, Risk, Governance & Compliance