Leading by Example: The Leadership Lessons My Father Never Taught Me
The most durable leadership lessons are almost never taught. They're modeled. Long before anyone encounters a framework, a training program, or a coach, they learn how to lead by watching someone; a parent, a first boss, a mentor, who simply lives their principles. Leading by example isn't a leadership technique. It's the original leadership development program, and every leader is running one whether they know it or not.
I know, because I graduated from one. Today would have been my father's 90th birthday, and in all the years I knew him, he never taught me a single leadership lesson.
No lectures. No sit-downs. No wisdom delivered across the kitchen table.
He lived the lessons. I watched. And decades later, what I absorbed became the foundation of my life's work developing leaders. Here are the three things he modeled, and what they mean for anyone who leads.
Attitude: The Decision Nobody Around Him Understood
I was four years old the day we dropped my father off at the airport. Six weeks of training for a brand-new career as a stockbroker. He had walked away from a good job he loved, a secure position with a respected company and a promising future, with a wife and two small children at home.
He was born in 1936, into a generation raised to believe a steady paycheck was the finish line. He had the finish line. He left it anyway.
It took me years to understand the real lesson in that decision. The risk was never the leap itself. The risk was believing he was allowed to want more, when everything around him said the safe thing was enough.
In my coaching work, I see this same moment in nearly every leader I serve. Most leaders don't lose to the market, the competition, or the economy. They lose to the internal voice that says Stay small, stay safe, stay put. Attitude is the mindset a leader brings to risk, change, and possibility. It is the first thing people around you absorb. My father never explained his mindset. He boarded the plane, and a four-year-old at the curb spent the next fifty years drawing conclusions.
Image: "Do Right by People, and You Will Never Go Wrong"
That was his saying, repeated my entire life, and it was the closest he ever came to teaching.
His business made it visible. A man whose work is other people's money sells exactly one thing: trust. I watched him build it the slow way, one relationship, one kept promise, one handshake at a time.
But the real curriculum ran off the clock. He treated everyone with dignity, whether or not they could do anything for him. He gave his money, his time, and his attention to the people who needed it. He raised scholarship money through his church. He cared for his mother and his aunt in their final years and considered it a privilege, not a burden.
Your image is not your wardrobe, your title, or your personal brand. It is the way others see you, and it is built from the compound interest on how you treat people when nothing is at stake. My father never once told me that. He just never treated anyone in a way that suggested otherwise, and the way people saw him, the trust they placed in him, was the return on decades of that investment. Image speaks to influence; you don't get the second without the first.
Self-Management: The Work Nobody Saw
Here's the part that never made it into any story he told: the discipline. The man never stopped learning. A new career meant new licenses, new skills, new knowledge, and ongoing education became a lifelong habit rather than an event. He worked when nobody was watching and improved when nobody required it.
And here is my proof that none of this was accidental: my brother grew up in the same house, watching the same man. He followed our father into the same industry, and eventually built a brokerage of his own.
Same classroom. Two graduates. No lectures ever given.
That's what modeling does that teaching cannot: it transfers. Lessons that are taught have to be remembered. Lessons that are lived get inherited.
What This Means If You Lead Anyone
Years later, I built my career around what I watched my father live. I gave it language: Attitude, Image, and Self-Management, the three dimensions of presence I now develop in executives and teams.
He just called it life.
Here's the uncomfortable implication for every leader reading this: your team is watching you the way I watched him. Not your presentations, but your decisions under pressure. Not your values statement, but how you treat the person who can't help your career. Not your development plan, but what you do when nobody requires anything of you. You are already running a leadership development program. The only question is what it's teaching.
My father never chased success. He became the kind of person success happens to, and at the very height of it, he made a decision about money and principle that stunned everyone around him. That story deserves its own telling, and I'll share it here next week.
For now, on his 90th birthday, I'll leave you with the question worth sitting with: Most of what you know about leading, you inherited by watching someone. Who was it, and what are the people watching you inheriting right now?
