Heart of Management

Category: Basis

Basic managerial and leadership issues

  • “But aren’t managers supposed to be cold?”

    That’s what I used to think.

    Back before I got my very first leadership role.

    I pictured them in closed rooms.

    Fluorescent lights.

    Decisions clicking into place like a keyboard.

    No emotion. No doubt. No heart.

    And me?

    I told myself:

    If that’s what it takes,

    maybe I’m not cut out for this.

    Because here’s the thing

    I’m human.

    I care.

    I second-guess myself.

    Sometimes I can’t fall asleep after a tough conversation with an employee.

    I can’t give feedback without worrying how it will land.

    I’m not a robot.

    And I was afraid maybe that would make me a bad manager.

    But the deeper I went into leadership,

    something shifted.

    I started seeing the people around me.

    The fear in their eyes before a big change.

    The hesitation in their words when they asked for feedback.

    The tremor in the voice of someone who wanted a promotion

    but didn’t dare to ask.

    And I realized something simple:

    To lead people, you don’t shut off your heart

    you learn how to use it.

    That doesn’t mean being too soft.

    That doesn’t mean avoiding hard calls.

    Yes, as a manager you sometimes cut.

    Sometimes you fire.

    Sometimes you’re the one who says the words they dreaded hearing.

    But if you do it right

    eye to eye,

    without arrogance,

    with your heart in the right place

    it doesn’t break people.

    It builds them.

    It makes both you and them stronger.

    It makes leadership simply… more human.

    There are no people without feelings.

    Only people who never learned how to use them well.

    The myth:

    “A good manager doesn’t need to be nice.”

    The truth:

    “A good manager needs to be human.”

    What do you think? Do you see it that way too?

  • As a CEO, you learn to hear the noise even when the room is quiet.

    It wasn’t a shout.

    It was a small jab.

    But the whole room felt it.

    I was sitting in a product development meeting.

    A room full of managers

    people I respect.

    Smart, committed, doing great work.

    And then, between one discussion and the next,

    came that comment.

    It wasn’t loud.

    It didn’t sound angry.

    It wasn’t dramatic.

    Just a jab

    like a drop of acid in a cup of coffee.

    Everyone went silent.

    We moved on.

    But inside, I knew it hadn’t passed.

    Because when you’re the CEO,

    you learn to recognize the silence that comes from being hurt.

    So after the meeting,

    I pulled him aside.

    I told him:

    “That doesn’t fly here. Not with me. Not in this company.”

    His reaction?

    No pushback.

    No ego.

    Just quiet listening.

    And from that day forward, it never happened again.

    Something in the tone, the attitude, the team dynamic

    shifted.

    Here’s my take:

    Organizational culture isn’t built in slide decks.

    It’s built in the little comments everyone hears,

    and in the moment they turn to see if you’ll respond.

    As a CEO, you don’t get to choose whether you notice.

    You choose whether you act.

    And that choice

    to respond or not

    is what shapes the culture.

  • The Dishwasher Was Empty.

    But She Was Still Standing There.

    I was proud of myself.

    The dishwasher was empty.

    Dishes were clean. Counters wiped down.

    Just like in the commercials.

    Then my wife walked in.

    She looked around.

    Said nothing.

    Just stood there, hands on hips, eyebrows raised.

    You know the look.

    I smiled like a hero and said,

    “All done!”

    She didn’t smile back.

    She just tilted her chin toward the counter:

    “What about that?”

    And yeah…

    The counter did look like someone made a tuna sandwich in the dark.

    But in my head?

    Not my problem.

    I had a task: dishwasher.

    Mission accomplished.

    Then she hit me with this:

    “You’re not taking a math test.

    It’s not about what was assigned.

    It’s about seeing the whole picture.”

    Boom.

    Right there, holding a dish towel in one hand and a coffee cup in the other,

    I saw it all.

    My team.

    My coworkers.

    The familiar phrases:

    “That’s not my responsibility.”

    “I did my part.”

    “No one told me…”

    And it hit me

    That’s the difference between an employee and a leader.

    Employees wait for assignments.

    Leaders notice what’s needed.

    Sure, the dishwasher was empty.

    But my brain?

    It was full.

    Because I finally understood:

    It doesn’t matter how well you executed your task

    if you missed the bigger picture.

    Since that day at home and at work

    I stopped asking “What was I told to do?”

    And started asking:

    “What’s really needed right now?”

    Ever had one of those moments where you were so focused on the task,

    you forgot to look up and see the full picture?

  • My best hire didn’t check a single box.

    It all started with a conversation at an event.

    I ran into someone I know who said:

    “There’s someone you have to interview.”

    I asked, “What’s his background?”

    He said, “Humanities.”

    (At that point, I had to stop myself from raising an eyebrow.)

    I gently said:

    “Listen, I manage an industrial company.

    We usually hire engineers or business graduates for roles like this,

    not liberal arts majors.”

    But he insisted.

    So I scheduled a meeting.

    Out of politeness.

    And maybe because something about the recommendation made me curious enough to say yes.

    At the very first meeting, I told him straight:

    “I honestly don’t see the fit.”

    (Maybe I wasn’t all that polite. I hope he doesn’t remember.)

    But… he didn’t flinch.

    He listened. He responded.

    He asked smart questions. He clarified. He illuminated.

    And slowly, instead of seeing a mismatch,

    I started to see… potential.

    We met again.

    I pushed him harder.

    Raised even more concerns.

    Laid out a salary that was clearly below what he could hope for.

    And still he wanted it.

    Not out of desperation.

    Not to prove something.

    He just believed it was the right place for him to grow and contribute.

    I sent him to my boss.

    The interview ended with:

    “I see why you’re excited, but this is really out there.”

    I asked, “Is it my decision, or are you vetoing it?”

    He said, “It’s your call. Just know, it’s highly unusual.”

    I hired him.

    And today?

    He’s a senior manager. One of the best we have.

    Leadership Tip:

    If you’re hiring and aiming for excellence,

    don’t settle for candidates who just fit the job description.

    Try writing a role profile that reflects what you actually need

    not just degrees or past titles,

    but real capabilities and potential.

    Look for people who align with where you’re going,

    not just where you are.

    Sometimes,

    those who have the seed of excellence

    won’t fit the mold your organization expects—

    they break it.

    And that’s exactly why they shine.

  • At first, I thought I had to choose:

    Either I’d be a manager.

    Or I’d be a human being.

    Somewhere early on, someone told me:

    “Listen, you seem great – but in a management role, you need muscle.

    Preferably one that’s not connected to emotion.”

    So I started playing the role:

    Blank face, businesslike tone, emails without smileys.

    And it worked… sort of.

    Until one day – something small happened.

    (I won’t go into it now, but let’s just say it involved an employee bursting into tears, and me – wearing my ‘strict manager’ vest – not knowing where to put myself…)

    In that moment, I realized something:

    Maybe I’m not cut out for management – if management means disconnecting from who I am.

    But then I discovered a secret no course teaches you:

    Not only can you manage with heart – sometimes, it’s your strongest tool.

    You can:

    • Set boundaries – without becoming robotic

    • Lead a team – without losing compassion

    • Handle conflicts – and still feel whole at the end of the day

    And it doesn’t make you less authoritative.

    It just makes you the kind of person people want to follow – not just have to obey.

    So if you ever feel torn between being a “good manager” and staying true to yourself –

    Just know this:

    Not only is it possible to combine both – it actually works better.

  • Five Questions Great Managers Ask — Even When They’re Uncomfortable

    Management isn’t about having all the answers.

    It’s about knowing how to ask the questions that are easiest to avoid.

    The ones that open real conversations.

    That don’t go down easy.

    That don’t start with “How’s that task going?”

    So here are five questions that changed the way I talk to my team.

    And sometimes… the way I talk to myself.

    What do you need from me that I’m probably not seeing? (It feels risky. It’s also incredibly valuable.)

    If I disappeared for a week what wouldn’t happen here? (A good answer can show you your real value or where you’re over-involved.)

    What’s hardest for you to say to me? (Not a question about weakness. A question about trust.)

    When did you give your 100% and get nothing in return? (It hurts. But it tells you what really matters to your people.)

    What am I not asking that I should be? (This is the question of managers who know that real leadership starts with what’s left unsaid.)

    This isn’t a checklist.

    It’s a key.

    Ask one this week.

    Just one.

    And see what happens when you ask not to check a box

    but to truly listen.

  • “Deafening Silence”

    It started like any regular meeting:

    I walk in.

    They’re already there.

    Everyone with open laptops and looks that say, “We’re totally with you (but also looking at someone else’s report).”

    I bring up the main topic

    a recurring issue, one that should get everyone fired up.

    And… nothing.

    Silence.

    Someone coughs.

    Someone else takes a sip of water.

    Then… someone asks what time it is, as if that matters right now.

    So I try a different angle.

    “What do you think about this solution?”

    Silence.

    More silence than when someone opens a can of tuna in the office.

    And then it hits me:

    The problem isn’t that they have nothing to say.

    The problem is they have too much to say and they’re afraid to say it.

    Maybe because it’ll offend someone.

    Maybe because it’s a sensitive dynamic.

    Or maybe because they’ve learned that telling the truth doesn’t end well.

    And that’s where the lesson came in:

    When it’s too quiet don’t assume everything’s calm.

    Sometimes silence is just a symptom of fear.

    Remember this:

    Next time there’s silence in a meeting

    Don’t move on to the next topic.

    Ask:

    “What hasn’t been said yet, that needs to be said?”

    And then…

    Wait.

    Wait a moment past the discomfort.

    Because sometimes, it’s after the silence that the truth begins.

  • Got a “good” question? Ask it.

    Even if you’re the manager.

    Especially if you’re the manager.

    You know that moment in a meeting when someone drops a term…

    And your whole body signals:

    “Of course. Of course I know what CAC is. I’m the manager, after all.”

    But your mind goes:

    “If someone shouts at me right now ‘What’s CAC?’ – I’ll just head out for a coffee break and never come back.”

    So you smile, jot something down in your notebook (even though you have no idea what you wrote),

    And later that evening, you ask Google.

    Or your kid.

    Or ChatGPT.

    And that’s exactly the moment you missed the chance to be a more human manager.

    Because the gap wasn’t in knowledge it was in the courage to ask.

    A simple question like:

    “Could you explain that for a second?”

    Can change the entire dynamic of a meeting.

    It shows you’re not projecting authority based on bravado – but trust.

    And it gives others permission to ask too.

    And in an age where even a dishwasher can define “digital marketing,”

    What sets you apart isn’t what you know.

    It’s your willingness to keep learning.

    And by the way? I have no idea what CAC is either.

    But I’m going to ask the chat.

    What’s worth remembering?

    The one who asks doesn’t look less smart.

    They just look like a sane manager.

  • A management tip (that I learned the hard way):

    If you start feedback with a “but” – you’ve already lost the conversation.

    I used to jump straight into feedback.

    Direct. Sharp.

    “Not accurate enough,”

    “I expected more,”

    “There’s a gap that needs to be closed.”

    From my side, it was just being straightforward.

    From their side?

    It felt like the end of the world.

    Then it hit me:

    Wait a second.

    I hate it when people start with that tone too.

    No one likes feeling like they have to defend themselves before they’ve even had their coffee.

    So I started differently.

    Something small.

    A sentence like:

    “I want to start with what worked well.”

    And that changed the whole tone.

    Not because I gave up on the feedback –

    But because I started with an open heart, not a pointing finger.

    It sounds simple,

    But it completely shifts the energy of the conversation.

    What’s worth remembering?

    The sharpest feedback is the kind that doesn’t feel like a knife.

    A good start leads to an ending someone can actually take with them.

    Good feedback is the kind the other person can truly absorb.

  • A visit to the production lines

    Once, during a routine visit to one of the production lines, I saw that the workers were struggling with a simple measurement.

    I stood on the side, noticed the confusion – and then stepped in.

    I showed them exactly how to measure.

    We solved it in two minutes.

    At the end of the day, I asked the consultant who was accompanying me:

    “So, how was I?”

    He looked at me and said:

    “Terrible.”

    I was shocked.

    “What do you mean? I solved the problem!”

    Then he said a sentence that changed everything I thought I knew about management:

    “You’re not supposed to solve problems.

    You’re supposed to teach others how to solve them.”

    And from that day on – I stopped being the hero who saves everyone.

    And started being the one who asks:

    “What do you think?” “How would you handle this?” “What did you learn from it?”

    At first, it took restraint.

    But later – it freed me.

    And it lifted them.

    A good manager isn’t measured by how much they know –

    But by how much they help others believe that they do.