The Weight of a Leader’s Words

Imagine you’re a soldier in an army. Your general has led you to a geographical location where you and the rest of the battalion can make a strategic attack on the enemy. Everyone is set. The general announces the attack will commence at dawn and prepares everyone for the last set of instructions to be given twenty minutes before the operation.

The night before you advance, you’re nervous. You’re more than nervous—you’re afraid.
Will you survive the attack?
Will your friends make it?
Does the enemy know you’re coming?
Is this all just a trap designed to kill as many of you as possible?

All night, you turn over question after question.

Morning comes, and the general gives the final instructions. As he steps down, he looks to his assistant and, within earshot of you and several others, you hear him say:

“This is going to be a bloodbath. History will remember this as a mistake.”

Now let me ask you a question: How motivated are you to engage the enemy?
Do you believe you can survive this campaign?
And if you don’t, is the sacrifice they’re asking of you worth it?

In the few minutes before the attack begins, how many people have you told what the general said?

As a leader, never forget this:

Words have weight. Words matter.

What you say can either bring hope and belief—or despair and dread.

If you fight hard for an initiative, then you must equally battle for the resources required to bring that initiative to life. You can’t just support the idea; you must throw your full weight behind supplying the team with what they need to advance the plan.

Your words and actions reveal whether you truly believe in what’s being attempted, and your team is always watching to see if you believe in the idea—and more importantly, if you believe in them.

Words have weight. They matter. Your message must be consistent.
If you even hint at doubt, your team will interpret it as total unbelief. You’re on a stage, and in many ways, you must play the role of a dealer in hope.

They can never hear you say, “This will never work.”
If they hear that from you, they’ll never work at the passion level you desire. In truth, the project will be dead on arrival.

Your team wants their efforts to matter. They crave meaning in their work. No one wants to spend time on something that has no chance of making a difference.

Advance the ideas you can support. You can’t just give a rousing speech and then leave the stage. The team must see, hear, and feel your support. They need—and want—to see their leader in the field, backing their efforts.

Words have weight.
They’ll either crush a soul or inspire a new idea.

Use your words wisely. Be mindful of your mouth.

Intersecting life, luxury, and leadership,
Chris Adams

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