*Why it matters, where it goes wrong, and how to lead without losing yourself*
In my thirties, running companies I’d founded, I believed that warmth and compassion made me a good leader.
I wanted people to feel safe. I wanted to be approachable, empathic, generous. And I was — often to great effect. My compassion paid dividends: it helped my teams feel held enough to be bold, to take creative risks, to innovate without fear of blame.
This wasn’t the norm.
Despite the brash and often abrasive leadership styles still admired in the early 90s — including during my Executive MBA at London Business School — I knew I didn’t want to lead like that. And after a decade in international business, I’d seen firsthand the cost of leadership that relied more on pressure than presence.
So I leaned into warmth. And it worked. For a while.
But when things got messy — tension, ambiguity, unmet expectations — I struggled to hold the line. I blurred boundaries to preserve harmony. I avoided being too direct, too forceful — because I didn’t want to become what I had rejected.
Looking back, I can see now that I was holding onto something more than just a style — it was almost ideological. I wanted to believe that warmth and goodwill were enough. That people, given safety and trust, would naturally rise. That was my working model of human nature as a younger man. And I held to it — not blindly, but doggedly.
And when that didn’t work, I’d overcorrect. Sharp. Controlling. Harsh.
There were moments when I became disillusioned — wondering if I’d been wrong all along. Maybe the conventional wisdom was right. Maybe this softly-softly approach didn’t belong in big business after all.
But something in me resisted that conclusion too.
Warmth isn’t weakness — but it isn’t enough either
Let’s be clear: warmth is not indulgence. And harshness is not strength.
Warmth, when it’s real and grounded, is a powerful signal of safety. It lets people bring more of themselves into the room. It builds trust, openness, and a kind of honest friction that makes performance better, not worse.
But warmth without boundaries quickly turns to something else — ambivalence, confusion, or need. And when that goes unregulated, people begin to read it as inconsistency or instability. They stop trusting the emotional tone of the leader. That’s when we see anxiety rise, team dynamics suffer, and backchannels multiply.
The irony is that many leaders think the antidote is to tighten the reins — to become harder, colder, more “professional.” But this just compounds the rupture.
The real question is not whether rupture will happen. It will. The real skill is knowing how to repair — how to re-establish trust, reaffirm the boundary, and remain emotionally available while you do it. That’s what builds durable, resilient working relationships.
What it looks like when you’re not in the sweet spot
You might recognise some of these:
– You over-accommodate, then snap.
– You soften a message so much it becomes unclear — or you say it too sharply and lose the relationship.
– You feel emotionally drained from trying to “hold” your team.
– You mistake being liked for being trusted.
– You don’t quite know how people experience you.
These are signs that something needs attention — not just in your strategy or communication, but in your internal world.
Because warmth doesn’t come from a toolkit. It comes from presence. And presence comes from awareness.
There is no one-size-fits-all warmth
Warmth isn’t a template you apply — it’s something you find in yourself. It’s not about being endlessly kind or endlessly available. It’s about congruence: that your tone matches your message, and your presence matches your role.
That’s different for everyone. For some, warmth is expressed through levity. For others, through quiet steadiness. For others still, it’s in a look that says, “I’m here with you. Let’s keep going.”
Finding that tone — your tone — takes reflection. Not necessarily therapy, but some kind of inner inquiry. You need to know where you get triggered, where your need to be liked takes over, where your avoidance of conflict makes things murky, where your fear of being ‘too much’ holds you back from giving clarity.
That’s the deeper work. Not to fix yourself, but to find the ground from which you can lead without confusion.
And here’s why it matters:
Because leadership presence isn’t just about how you feel — it shapes how others function.
When you find a warm, steady place to lead from, people around you begin to regulate too. That’s how relational resilience builds. That’s how performance becomes sustainable.
To improve performance, teams must move closer to the edge
To innovate, take risks, or stretch into something unfamiliar, teams have to fly closer to the sun. They need to operate near that productive edge — where challenge is real and the outcomes are uncertain.
But that only works if the emotional container is strong.
Containment and safety aren’t just cultural niceties — they’re strategic foundations for high performance. They allow teams to recover from mistakes, take feedback, and stay engaged under pressure. And critically, they’re what make boldness sustainable, not just occasional.
Resilience isn’t just an individual trait — it’s a relational one. It grows when people feel seen, held, and clear on where they stand. And that depends on leaders who have done the work to regulate themselves, read the room, and strike that balance between emotional accessibility and authority.
A systemic approach makes this even more powerful. When leaders understand the emotional patterns within a team or organisation — not just in individuals but across relationships and roles — they can start to shift culture in more enduring ways.
That’s not soft. That’s performance strategy.
In the end, warmth is clarity
A good therapist doesn’t need to be liked — but they must be trustworthy.
A good leader doesn’t need to be soft — but they must be readable.
Both require the same thing: emotional clarity.
And that clarity comes from doing the quieter work of understanding ourselves — so we can hold the room, hold the moment, and hold others, without losing ourselves in the process.
A final note to leaders: You don’t need to choose between warmth and strength. You just need to find the place where they meet. And stay there.