Heart of Management

Category: General

  • “How I Burned a Million Dollars”

    A few years ago,

    I was convinced I was making a smart move.

    We invested one million dollars in an automation project.

    Yes, a million.

    I had a clear goal:

    to prove that automation could work at scale.

    And honestly? I was so determined

    that I jumped at the opportunity without really checking

    if the system was the right fit.

    I rushed.

    I skipped critical evaluation and testing.

    My head said, “Move fast.”

    My heart said, “This is the future.”

    But no one stopped to ask:

    What if it doesn’t deliver?

    The day we launched it,

    it needed… training wheels.

    An entire team had to patch, workaround, and push it forward.

    It never really “ran” on its own.

    And after a few years,

    we ended up replacing it entirely with a new system.

    My leadership takeaway:

    When you’re in a hurry to prove a point,

    you can pay a heavy price.

    Pause. Ask the uncomfortable questions.

    Do the deep due diligence before making a big call.

    Because sometimes, moving too fast costs far more than the investment itself.

  • “She didn’t ask me to write this. But I just can’t stay quiet.”

    Every evening she comes home exhausted.

    She gives everything she has.

    Carries projects on her shoulders that would crush most people.

    And it’s not just performance.

    It’s brains, empathy, intuition, responsibility, big-picture thinking

    everything you’d want in a leader, she’s got it.

    But then the message comes:

    So-and-so got promoted.

    Not her.

    And it happens again.

    And again.

    She smiles.

    Says, “It’s okay.”

    That what really matters is working on something meaningful.

    That the title doesn’t matter as much as the impact.

    And me?

    I’m boiling inside.

    Because I see her worth.

    And I don’t understand

    why others can’t see it.

    Then I start to wonder:

    Maybe she doesn’t push herself forward enough?

    Maybe she doesn’t “market” herself?

    Maybe she just does the job too well,

    so it’s easier to keep her exactly where she is?

    But it hurts.

    Because I know it’s not her fault.

    And I also know

    that one day, they’ll finally wake up.

    And by then…

    it might be too late.

    My takeaway?

    Sometimes, to move up,

    it’s not enough to be amazing.

    You also have to remind people of it—without shame.

    Are you doing that?

  • “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.

  • A young, sharp manager sat across from me.

    “I want a promotion,” he said.

    “I’ve earned it. I work hard, I deliver results, I go above and beyond.”

    I listened. I nodded.

    Then I asked him one question:

    “Tell me, how do you think leaders actually make promotion decisions?”

    He went silent.

    Not because he didn’t know the answer

    but because he didn’t realize that was even the question.

    And that’s when I thought back to myself, years ago.

    When I wanted my very first promotion.

    And I felt like there was this glass wall I couldn’t break through.

    I was a good employee, well-regarded…

    but not “promotion material.”

    Why? I had no idea.

    So I did what most people do:

    Took another course. Worked even harder. Sacrificed more.

    And still couldn’t figure out why nothing was happening.

    Until I started asking different questions:

    Maybe I’m thinking like an employee, when I should be thinking like a leader. Maybe I’m trying to stand out in ways no one actually cares about. Maybe I’m pouring my energy into the wrong things. Or maybe, just maybe no one has ever shown me what the real path looks like.

    Since then, my work has been to uncover that path, step by step:

    How to think like the people who make the decisions. How to figure out what’s really holding you back. How to turn your everyday work into a quiet stage for influence. How to ask for a promotion, without apologizing or shrinking yourself. And how, once it happens, not to settle, but to ask, “What’s next? What’s the next level?”

    It’s not magic.

    And it’s definitely not luck.

    It’s a method. Pure and simple.

    פ

  • “Your Best Candidate? Might Not Even Make It Past the Filters.”

    It always starts the same way.

    You sit down with HR.

    Open the spreadsheet.

    Go through the checklist:

    Degree. Experience. Background.

    Olympic-level Excel skills.

    You tick boxes.

    Cross off names.

    Tighten the filters.

    And you’re left with five.

    Five candidates who all look…

    basically the same.

    Same language.

    Same path.

    Same boundaries.

    And then comes the frustration:

    “There’s no excellence here. No spark.”

    But really—what did you expect?

    You wrote a spec for a robot.

    And you’re surprised Einstein didn’t show up?

    I’ve seen this play out time and time again:

    A massive pool of fresh grads—hungry, talented, lacking only experience.

    Another of older professionals—even retirees—with a lifetime of knowledge.

    And they all have one thing in common:

    The system filters them out.

    Not because they’re not good.

    But because they don’t fit the fine print.

    My turning point?

    I once pushed for a candidate who didn’t meet a single formal requirement.

    But something about him stood out.

    When they asked:

    “Why are you insisting on him?”

    I said:

    “Because I’m not hiring a checklist.

    I’m hiring a human being.”

    Since then, I’ve been drawn to people who don’t fit neatly into boxes:

    • The ones who haven’t done it—yet—but clearly can.

    • The ones who don’t look like everyone else, but see further.

    • The ones who’ll challenge me, not just blend in.

    So here’s the agenda:

    If you truly want excellence—

    don’t be afraid to go off-spec.

    Because the best people weren’t born ISO-compliant.

    They were born with a spark.

    And with a bit of courage,

    you can be the one who gives it space to catch fire.

  • After You Settle Into the New Role

    The phone calls slow down.

    Meetings fall into place.

    You even manage to get home before dark some days.

    And then it hits you:

    The silence.

    But not the peaceful kind.

    Not the “Nice, everything’s under control” kind.

    It’s the kind of quiet where you can hear the assistant closing a drawer at the end of the hallway.

    That silence reminds you of one thing:

    No one’s coming to say,

    “Wow, you make this look effortless—ready for your next big challenge?”

    That’s the moment you realize:

    The climb is over…

    But you’re not sure what the next mountain is.

    And that’s where people split into two groups:

    Those who map out their next move.

    And those who keep walking in circles at the top.

    Been there?

    Everything’s working. No drama. No noise.

    You feel like you’re in motion but is it forward? Or just around in circles?

    This is the most important moment:

    Don’t be fooled by the quiet.

    Don’t fall in love with the comfort.

    Because if you’re not asking “What’s next?”

    Someone else might decide it for you.

    So tell me

    Have you already set your sights on the next peak?

    Or are you just circling the one you’ve already conquered?

  • Quick change? That only works in a microwave.

    Consultants flew in from overseas.

    Slick slides.

    A big vision.

    A one-year plan and voilà! Operational excellence.

    Sounds impressive, right?

    But then I looked around.

    My people were barely keeping up with the day-to-day.

    Line breakdowns.

    Customers pushing hard on the phone.

    Marketing pushing discounts.

    Sales making promises we couldn’t deliver on.

    And in the middle of all that?

    Learn a whole new system?

    Change the entire workflow?

    Achieve excellence?

    I told myself:

    “They saw the plan.

    I see the people.”

    And I really saw them.

    Running from meeting to email,

    Exhausted. Confused. Stressed.

    Going through the motions of change just trying to survive the day.

    So I did something no management book teaches.

    I opened the contract.

    I scaled back the consulting.

    And I extended the timeline by a year and a half.

    Yes, a year and a half.

    Because real change doesn’t happen under pressure.

    There are no magic tricks.

    You can’t buy it in a deck of slides.

    Real change happens

    when the pace matches the heartbeat of your organization.

    Ever tried to push a change too fast

    and the system just spit it back out?

  • 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.