When you’re working with high-capacity people—big thinkers with strong opinions and serious drive—there’s one guarantee: tension is coming.
And that’s not a bad thing.
In fact, if there's never any friction, you might not be dreaming big enough. High performers are wired to push boundaries, challenge assumptions, and move fast. That kind of energy creates heat and sometimes, sparks.
So we must keep short accounts.
Keeping short accounts means we don’t let small issues become big problems. We don’t let a moment of miscommunication turn into months of mistrust. We deal with things early, while they’re still manageable.
Think of it like this: a short account is easy to settle. A long one starts collecting interest.
This doesn’t mean we’re nitpicking every disagreement. It means we’re choosing courage over comfort. We’re refusing to let tension silently tear at the fabric of the team.
When strong leaders work together, there will be disagreements. That’s not dysfunction—that’s a sign people care. If no one is ever pushing back, someone’s playing it too safe.
And sometimes, progress requires a little pressure.
The healthiest teams and relationships don’t avoid conflict; they know how to move through it.
Keeping short accounts means:
Ephesians 4:26 reminds us, “Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry.” That’s not just spiritual wisdom, it’s a leadership strategy.
The longer you wait to address the issue, the heavier it becomes. Time doesn’t always heal; sometimes it hardens.
You can’t build a strong team without strong conversations.
So here’s the challenge:
Keep the account short and keep the trust strong.
Because the most successful teams aren’t the ones with no tension.
They’re the ones who know how to deal with it together.
Last week, I talked about thinking differently. My note was met with applause and cheers from the marketers, the think-different people. Simultaneously it received a round of caution from the numbers-don’t-lie readers, and I agree that there is wisdom in not venturing too far off the reservation.
So this is the balance between those two camps, and it is a lesson I learned in the early days of building Chick-fil-A Leader Academy.
My business partner Garrett Gravesen and I came in with wild ideas. We were bolstered by David Salyers, who was the Senior Vice President of Marketing over the project at the time and a dreamer himself. With the three of us in a brainstorm, it could easily turn into each person one-upping the last big idea.
But here is what we learned:
The WOW people are the visionaries. They’re always dreaming, brainstorming, pushing the envelope.
The HOW people are the executors. They’re asking: How will this work? What’s the cost? Who’s doing what by when?
It’s tempting to pick a side. But thriving organizations don’t choose between WOW and HOW. They learn to balance both.
And that balance?
The GICOD is a simple idea we learned from another incredible leader at Chick-fil-A, L.J. Yankosky. L.J. is unique in that he’s an innovator with an engineering background. He implemented this strategy to allow us the space to dream while keeping us moving forward.
Here’s how things usually go wrong:
The GICOD solves this.
It’s a clear, non-negotiable moment when ideation stops and execution starts.
Before the GICOD: Dream big. Think bold. Say “WOW.”
After the GICOD: Make decisions. Build plans. Say “GO.”
This isn’t about stifling creativity. It’s about channeling it.
It says: “Yes, we want your ideas, but we also need to deliver.”
The GICOD:
Creates clarity. No more wondering which ideas are still in play. Everyone knows what’s locked in.
Respects both mindsets. Dreamers know there’s a time for their ideas. Doers know there’s a point where the noise stops.
Builds trust. People stop fearing that last-minute changes will blow up their plans.
Drives results. Because great ideas are only as good as their execution.
So how do you make the GICOD effective?
WOW without HOW is chaos.
HOW without WOW is stagnation.
But when you build a culture that welcomes both, and draw a clear line with a cut off date, you get focused innovation. Big ideas that actually ship. Teams that dream and deliver.
When’s your next GICOD? Because the sooner you set it, the sooner your team can stop spinning and start winning.
Last week, my colleague and friend Aaron Fossas returned from the Welcome Conference, an event hosted by Will Guidara, best known for his work around “Unreasonable Hospitality.” Aaron came back energized, inspired, and maybe just a little louder than usual (in the best way).
And the reason?
A man named Rory Sutherland.
If you haven’t heard of Rory, he’s the Vice Chairman of Ogilvy UK, a behavioral economics wizard, and perhaps one of the most delightfully disruptive thinkers alive. Aaron couldn’t stop talking about him, not because Rory has all the answers, but because he refuses to accept the same questions.
“It is much easier to be fired for being illogical than it is for being unimaginative. The fatal issue is that logic always gets you to exactly the same place as your competitors.”
In a world that often worships standardization, Sutherland argues for something wildly unfashionable: creativity.
And not the "cool font, slick deck" kind of creativity… the uncomfortable kind.
The risky kind.
The what-if-we-did-it-backwards-and-painted-it-purple kind.
“It doesn’t pay to be logical if everyone else is being logical.”
It’s a reminder that playing it safe really is the most dangerous move of all. Logic isn't bad, but when it's the only lens we use to solve problems, we become boring, predictable, and forgettable.
Consider this: if all your competitors are using the same tools, the same data, and the same processes, then you cannot win by simply being more efficient.
At the heart of this philosophy is something that aligns perfectly with Will Guidara’s idea of Unreasonable Hospitality.
Spreadsheets and surveys tell a story, but at times we need to look past them into the real, raw, human feelings of the people we serve.
When you start thinking this way, the entire playing field changes. You're no longer designing for the "average user". Instead, you’re designing for the moment, for the emotion, for the story.
Rory says: “Don’t design for average.”
The average doesn’t inspire.
The average doesn’t lead.
The average doesn’t make someone say, “You’ve got to hear what just happened to me.”
It’s worth remembering that some of the most remarkable things in the world started as weird ideas, championed by people who cared more about meaning than metrics.
What if we stopped trying to be right, and started trying to be remarkable?
"Is It Friday Yet?"
"Ugh, back to the grind."
"Livin’ for the weekend!"
"Retire early so you can do what you really love."
We’ve all heard the lines and maybe even said them ourselves. For many, work feels like a necessary evil. A daily slog to survive until the next break, the vacation, or the escape.
But what if we’ve misunderstood work entirely?
In today’s hustle culture, it’s easy to shrink work down to a paycheck or a ladder to climb. But done right, work is purpose in motion.
It’s contribution.
It’s calling.
And it’s not some post-fall punishment for humanity, it was actually part of the original, perfect plan.
Hold with me, I’m going to go theological here for a minute:
Before there were deadlines, burnout, or broken systems, there was Eden. And in Eden, God placed Adam in the garden “to work it and take care of it.” That was before the fall. Before sin. As Tim Keller wrote in Every Good Endeavor, “Work was not a necessary evil that came into the picture later...God made it a part of His perfect design.”
That flips the script, doesn’t it?
Work was never meant to be a burden, it was meant to be a blessing.
And when we embrace that truth, everything changes.
We stop asking, “How do I survive until Friday?” and start asking, “How can I make a difference today?”
Work isn’t just about what you get from it, it’s about what you give to it. Whether you’re leading a company, teaching kids, caring for patients, running a household, or stocking shelves, your work carries weight. Eternal weight.
Because you’re not just clocking in. You’re creating. Serving. Building. Solving. Contributing to human flourishing in ways that echo far beyond a spreadsheet or schedule.
The true value of work isn’t just economic, it’s also deeply spiritual.
As AW Tozer said, "It is not what a man does that determines whether his work is sacred or secular; it is why he does it. The motive is everything."
What is your motive? Who are you serving through your work? What problem are you uniquely equipped to solve?
Here’s the difference between a job and a calling:
One drains you. The other drives you.
One is endured. The other is lived out.
And great leaders get this. They understand that all good work carries dignity, not just the flashy jobs or the ones with big titles. From baristas to board members, janitors to CEOs, the work matters. Not because of status, but because of significance.
Leaders have the power, and the responsibility, to remind people of the why. To lift their eyes beyond the task list and connect the dots between what they’re doing and why it matters. Because people don’t just need direction, they need meaning.
When leaders connect work to purpose, they don’t just boost morale, they unlock ownership. And ownership always outperforms obligation.
Because at its best, work isn’t a grind. It’s a gift.
Let’s be the kind of leaders who help people see that their work isn’t just busywork, it’s sacred work.
What you do matters.More than you may think.
"Your willingness to rock the boat must be commensurate with your willingness to row the boat."
Early in my journey, I loved the idea of rocking the boat.
I was drawn to the thrill of the zag when everyone else was zigging. The idea of breaking the mold, of asking the uncomfortable questions, of challenging conventional wisdom. I wasn’t just okay with disruption; I championed it.
I looked at companies like Netflix and how they toppled the titan Blockbuster. I quoted Steve Jobs’ rally cry for “the crazy ones” like it was gospel:
"They push the human race forward."
I still believe that. We need boat-rockers. We need men and women with the courage to challenge the status quo, to stare down stale systems and say, “We can do better.”
But here’s what I’ve come to learn:
Disruption without discipline doesn’t last.
Creativity without contribution becomes noise.
And movement without muscle leads to nowhere.
Too often, we romanticize the disruptors. We celebrate the successful iconoclasts, the visionaries, and the rule-breakers without recognizing what sustained their success: a relentless willingness to row.
To do the work. To show up. To carry the weight.
To endure the meetings, the setbacks, the revisions, the late nights, and the unglamorous grind that follows every brave idea.
Netflix didn’t just kill Blockbuster because they had a good idea. Additionally they executed obsessively, evolved constantly, and rowed relentlessly.
The same is true for every disruptor who made a real dent in the world.
So yes: rock the boat. Stir the waters. Refuse to settle.
But don’t stop there.
Grab an oar.
Because changing the world isn't just about pointing out where the boat should go, it's about helping get it there.
I’ve been encouraged lately to be the kind of leader who dares to shake things up and also digs in for the hard work ahead. The world needs dreamers who are also doers.
Yesterday, I joined my friend Mike Linch at an event called Lunch with a Leader. We were diving into a powerful truth: Servant leaders don’t have to be soft leaders. In fact, the best leaders blend compassion with candor – a rare but powerful combination.
That conversation reminded me of one of my favorite quotes:
“Pity the leader caught between unloving critics and uncritical lovers.” — John Gardner
It’s a simple but profound truth. As leaders, we’re constantly navigating two extremes:
Neither helps us grow. Let’s take a closer look.
These people are quick to tear down, slow to understand. They love pointing out flaws. They tell you that your ideas are dumb, your strategy’s off, or your mission is unrealistic. But they don’t offer solutions or support. Why? Because they’re more interested in being right than being helpful.
At ADDO, our mission is to inspire people today to impact tomorrow. And yet, it’s amazing how fast the outside world rushes to dismiss that. They tell us “real businesses” don’t operate this way. Most critics aren't invested in your success, they’re just loud.
These folks are on the opposite end of the spectrum. Always cheering, never challenging. They say all the right things:
It feels good, but it's dangerous. When you only hear applause, you often end up confidently marching straight into failure. Encouragement without honesty becomes empty flattery.
This is the friend, mentor, or team member who:
These people are rare and invaluable.
As Proverbs 27:17 says, “Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another.” We all need people who sharpen us. People who speak truth, not just praise. People who help us become who we’re truly capable of being.
So we all could use some loving critics. However, we shouldn’t just find them, we should be them.
I’ll admit, this is a struggle for me. I like people to feel good, and sometimes that holds me back from saying the hard thing. But real leadership (and real friendship) means saying what needs to be said, not just what someone wants to hear.
Peggy Noonan said it best: “Candor is a compliment; it implies equality. It’s how true friends talk.”
Surround yourself with people who both encourage and edify. And commit to being that person for others.
Some of the most powerful decisions you’ll make in life and in leadership will look completely wrong on paper.
The spreadsheet says “don’t do it.”
The data screams “not worth the risk.”
The consultant’s model gives you a polite but firm “no.”
But your gut, your team, or one powerful story tells you otherwise.
It’s in those moments that you find out what kind of leader you are. Do you have the courage to choose the anecdote over the algorithm?
Albert Einstein famously said, “Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts.” In business, this isn't just poetic, it’s practical. Because sometimes, a decision that doesn’t add up on paper ends up being exactly what adds up in real life.
History is filled with stories of companies that made counterintuitive decisions, moves that looked wrong on paper, but proved to be exactly right. Here are a few:
By every business metric, Costco should have raised the price of its $1.50 hot dog and soda combo years ago. It’s been the same price since 1985. Economists would call this irrational. Inflation alone should have pushed it to $4 or $5.
When pressured by executives to raise the price, Costco co-founder Jim Sinegal famously responded: “If you raise the effing hot dog, I will kill you.” (His words, not mine!)
Why? Because it’s not just about margin, it’s about the message. The combo is a symbol of Costco’s commitment to value. It builds loyalty and trust with customers. It’s a small detail that communicates a massive principle.
When Apple first announced it would open brick-and-mortar stores in 2001, critics pounced. Gateway had just failed with its own retail experiment. Analysts called Apple’s plan “a costly mistake” and “a recipe for disaster.”
But Steve Jobs believed that people needed to experience Apple, not just buy it. He wanted to create a space where brand, design, and customer support collided.
Today, Apple Stores generate more revenue per square foot than any other retailer in the world.
In Airbnb’s early days, most investors laughed them out of the room. But co-founders Brian Chesky and Joe Gebbia saw something others didn’t. People in New York were actually using the platform, even though the product was clunky and trust was a major issue.
On paper, the data was weak. Growth was slow. The model was risky. But Chesky and Gebbia flew from California to New York, met hosts in person, and manually improved their listings with better photos, better descriptions, and better experiences.
It wasn’t scalable, and it certainly wasn’t efficient. But it worked.
That early, personal effort became the foundation for the trust economy Airbnb built and a $100 billion company was born.
This story is a feature in ADDO’s new podcast, with the same title as this post. Wrong on Paper, is hosted by Aaron Fossas and David Salyers, of Chick-fil-A fame. I’d encourage you to check out the Airbnb story, broken into 6 chapters.
I love how Aaron and David share that when data and anecdotes contradict, great leaders don’t automatically side with the numbers. They pause. They dig deeper. They remember that behind every data point is a person, and sometimes one powerful story matters more than a thousand data sets.
Remember that spreadsheets don’t build movements. Stories do.
We’re not dismissing data. But when the numbers say “no,” and the stories say “yes,” don’t dismiss the story so quickly. It might just be the early evidence of a trend. Or the beating heart of your brand.
In a world obsessed with optimization, have the courage to make a decision that’s wrong on paper if it’s right in principle.
Ever been desperate for help? The deadline’s looming. The pressure’s mounting. You just need someone…anyone to fill the gap.
So, you make the call.
You lower your standards.
Just this once, right?
You tell yourself:
“It’s only one person.”
“It’s just a temporary fix.”
“It won’t really matter in the long run.”
But it does matter. That one compromise is the first step down the slippery slope of settling.
Guy Kawasaki, who worked directly for Steve Jobs, coined a term every leader should remember: The Bozo Explosion.
Here’s how it works:
A Players hire A Players.
B Players hire C Players.
C Players hire clowns.
Before you know it, your culture is flooded with mediocrity. You’ve traded excellence for convenience. And now you're managing a circus.
If you hire one clown, don’t be surprised when a whole carload shows up.
For the sake of this illustration, picture the talent level of people on a scale from 1 to 10. The 9’s and 10’s are high-capacity leaders. Interestingly, they don’t want to be the smartest in the room. They like to be challenged and want to grow. So naturally they surround themselves with other 9’s and 10’s.
This is why the best athletes want to compete with the best.
The most gifted musicians want to play with other masters.
Top students seek out the toughest academic environments.
But mediocrity operates differently.
7’s and 8’s often bring in 5’s and 6’s just to feel superior. And those 5’s and 6’s? They pull in 3’s and 4’s. That’s when your team hits critical mass and the Bozo Explosion has ensued.
This is a real risk for any person who is searching for high caliber individuals to join their team. Here are a two strategies I’ve seen the greatest leaders employ:
When the pressure’s on, don’t settle.
The best organizations would rather wait than hire the wrong person. One bad hire isn’t only a poor performer, it’s a cultural contaminant. The wrong person can undo years of hard work. The right person raises the bar for everyone.
If you’re surrounding yourself with people who make you feel like the smartest in the room, that’s not leadership, it’s ego. True leaders don’t recruit for comfort. They recruit for growth.
Build a team that sharpens you, challenges you, and makes you better. Doing so takes confidence, it takes humility, and it takes discipline.
The Bottom Line: Don’t let a shortcut today sabotage your vision tomorrow.
Protect your culture. Raise the standard. And whatever you do, don’t set off the Bozo Explosion.
I’ll be honest—this one doesn’t come naturally.
I’ve always been a people pleaser. I want to be liked, understood, and respected. While that can be a strength in leadership, it can also be a trap. Every criticism stings and even mild disagreements can feel personal.
Over time, I’ve learned about a surprising superpower: becoming unoffendable. I’m not claiming to have fully mastered this, but the closer I get, the better I become.
Why It Matters
Offense is everywhere. We find it scrolling social media. We see it in our workplaces. And if you’ve ever had a news article written about you, go check the comment section. Leaders who take everything personally, or who respond to every slight, will burn out fast. They become reactive and lose credibility.
Being unoffendable doesn’t mean being passive. Instead, it means refusing to let our ego and emotions hijack our influence.
Brant Hansen, in his book Unoffendable, asks: what if we gave up our “right” to be offended? He argues that anger is rarely righteous, and that holding onto offense keeps us trapped in bitterness. That perspective stuck with me.
Craig Groeschel says it this way:
Exactly. If you’re called to lead, you simply can’t afford to let offense become your operating system.
There are many benefits of getting thicker skin.
But what if it still hurts when you are criticized, critiqued, and condemned? Of course words can sting. I have replayed countless conversations at night. That’s human and that’s normal.
And resilience grows when your identity is rooted in purpose, not popularity. (I probably need to read that line again!)
Here’s my challenge to my fellow people pleasers:
Let the comment slide.
Take the feedback without flinching.
Assume the best.
People are messy and leadership is hard. But if you can lead with thick skin and a soft heart, you’ll stand out and your influence will grow.