Essay: Leadership : two uninviting meetings

 

I have found myself in a leadership position a few times over the years. And each time, I’ve been struck by the same, rather painful realisation: I’m not cut out for it.

Like most people, I have difficulty dealing with certain types of individuals. In particular, those who, despite having no relevant experience, are brimming with overconfidence and believe they are naturally entitled to lead. These are the people who think everyone else should instinctively flock to them.

Back in my university days, I had the chance to direct an English-language play. It was an ambitious undertaking, based on a script I’d been nurturing for years. This wasn’t just a casual student affair – even 30 years ago, it involved charging an audience for tickets, so there was an added sense of responsibility.

Among the cast was a complete novice. She’d never set foot on a stage before, let alone acted. Directing this individual proved to be a monumental challenge.

While she was confident in their English skills and insisted she was doing nothing wrong, her lack of theatre experience was glaring. She hadn’t grasped even the most basic principles of acting. Worst of all, she had a habit of doing everything you shouldn’t do in front of an audience.

For instance, she would clasp her hands together in nervous idleness throughout the entire two-hour performance. Her default expression was a radiant smile, which she maintained even during scenes that required fury or hatred. And, as if to compensate for being in an English play, she would overuse exaggerated gestures.

No matter how many times I addressed these issues, nothing changed. I eventually resorted to giving direct feedback and assigned her to practise her expressions of anger and hatred in front of a mirror during breaks. Yet, the dazzling smile persisted.

As opening night approached, I reached the end of my tether. Despite repeated corrections, she continued to radiate her sunny disposition, unshaken in her belief that she was doing everything as she should. Three months of this, and my patience finally gave out. Frustrated, I told the entire production team to practise on their own – though the fault lay squarely with this one smiling cast member.

This prompted a rather shocking response: “I’m better at directing than you!” She seemed oblivious to the irony of her claim, given her inability to fully embody her character.

Eventually, I apologised to the group and resumed rehearsals. I compromised on the one scene where the actress managed to adopt a semblance of a scowl, reasoning it was better than nothing.

After the play was over, I heard a rumour that this person had been a manager or captain of their high school club. It dawned on me that she had assumed her past leadership role would automatically translate to directing a theatre production. To her, being in charge was just about managing people – no thought given to acting, collaborating with crew members, or understanding the finer points of theatre.

This experience provided me with a determination, that I will not take up a role of leader. The seemingly endless proces of addressing to an individual who ignore instruction, but airing that she is acting perfectly, led me to the end of my wits.

Someone with no grasp of acting, boldly claiming to be more capable of directing a play, leading rehearsals, coordinating the cast, and communicating with the lighting and set design teams—without giving a single thought to what any of that actually entails—was, in hindsight, a moment worthy of nothing more than a wry "Well, I stand corrected." But at the time, faced with this audacious proclamation from a complete novice in theatre, I could do little more than gape in sheer disbelief.


Fast forward a few years, and I found myself mentoring a new hire at work.

This person, like my university cast member, had an impressive sense of self-assurance but was equally frustrating to manage.

Despite having studied in America, her English skills weren’t as polished as her CV suggested. Worse, she refused to ask questions, even when it was clear that she was struggling. When I repeatedly asked if she needed help, her only response was, “No, I’m fine.”

When this new recruit was tasked with a job they’d never tackled before, I took the time and carefully walk her through the process—what to check, how to report, and the best way to liaise with clients. But, as they say, it was like preaching to a horse; none of it seemed to register.

The results were predictably disastrous. By her second year, she made a mistake so severe it almost led to legal action from a client. Her confidence, I realised, was a facade – she had ignored glaring errors that even basic English skills would have caught.

The crux of the problem lay in her wilful ignorance—overlooking issues that anyone with even a basic grasp of English would have spotted instantly. She turned a blind eye, carrying on as if everything was perfectly in order. Naturally, this kept her colleagues oblivious too, until the inevitable happened: a disgruntled client brought everything to light, and the situation unravelled in spectacular fashion.

What’s more, she had no interest in the nitty-gritty of the job. Her aspirations were squarely focused on a future managerial role, where she imagined herself delegating tasks and submitting polished Excel reports. The present reality of honing her skills was a mere inconvenience.

A few years later, the simmering resentment finally bubbled over, and I found myself the target of blatant jealousy. “I studied in America, I work in English—so why on earth would someone like you be recognised by the company instead of me?” was the palpable sentiment.

At the time, I’d been in the industry for about four years, give or take a few interruptions. Some tasks were new to me, but others were familiar ground, and I was at least experienced enough to answer most questions that came my way. Having once faced the brink of legal trouble with a client, I’d become even more diligent about asking, “Do you have any questions?” whenever training someone.

But with this particular individual, the only response I ever received was a haughty, “I have no reason to ask someone as inexperienced as you.”

Dealing with an employee whose pride towered so high presented a real conundrum. I wrestled with how best to approach the situation, seeking advice from senior colleagues, but no one seemed to have a definitive solution.

This person had an infuriating habit of taking it upon herself to do work that had been assigned to others, without permission, all the while maintaining an air of superiority with the refrain, “I’m just being efficient.”

Her actions prompted warnings, even from the manager, who rightly pointed out the potential for errors when someone interferes with tasks allocated to another team member. Yet, this didn’t deter her. When she meddled with work that had been assigned to me—without so much as a word of consultation—errors inevitably followed.

When the manager questioned what was happening on the ground, I simply handed the matter over to the meddler, explaining that I couldn’t take responsibility for work tampered with behind my back.

Colleagues from other departments dismissed the behaviour as merely “lending a helping hand,” but as I saw it, a botched job done under the guise of helpfulness was no help at all.

In the end, the matter was resolved with a directive from the manager: from that point on, work was to be completed solely by the person it was assigned to—no exceptions.


These experiences, frustrating as they were, taught me a great deal about dealing with overconfident individuals. But now, years later, I find myself working with someone who seems to embody all these traits – amplified.
This person, too, is self-assured, prone to interfering in tasks that aren’t hers, and resistant to feedback. However, I’ve learned to handle such challenges with a touch more grace. When needed, I escalate issues to the appropriate supervisor, knowing when to step back and let the situation play out.

As I approach the later stages of my career, I reflect on these encounters with difficult personalities. Each experience has been a hurdle to overcome, shaping me into someone more capable of managing conflict and setting boundaries.

I can’t say for certain what challenges lie ahead. But as I prepare for the next chapter, I’m determined to meet them with patience, professionalism, and perhaps a dash of humour.

After all, every hurdle we clear only prepares us for the next one.