Leadership and Ego Management

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In the early 2000s I worked for the charity Centrepoint who, at that time, ran four different hostels for homeless young people in Soho, central London. I managed the one for long-term rough sleepers with complex needs, but I was asked to switch to manage the one for young people who were newly homeless. This was the organisation’s ‘flagship’ project, a hostel that Princess Diana had visited regularly.

Sabotage

But behind the profile and PR, the hostel had significant management problems. A number of staff had to leave due to disciplinary issues and others were bitter and disillusioned. On the Monday I took over as manager, the outgoing workers on the weekend had engaged in deliberate sabotage, putting food down the backs of radiators and boilers, messing up the complex key system, and giving the most minimal handover possible. It was childish but illustrative of how negative the culture had become.

For me and my deputy manager, who had also transferred with me from the previous hostel, it was a toxic situation to walk into, and we had some very hard work to do. But the situation also gave a clear opportunity to start afresh and build an entirely new team. We recruited people with less experience but the right attitude and quite quickly established a positive, dynamic and hard-working culture.

Heroism

It was one of a number of situations I stepped into, where there was either a new project to set up or where there was chaos to sort out. In retrospect, I realise that I was drawn to the challenge of bringing order out of chaos.

But of course, another factor that came with these moves was a sense of heroism – of being willing to step into difficulty, perhaps even being ‘a saviour’ who comes in to rescue the situation. When you step into chaos and dysfunction and create positive change, it is easy to look good. It strokes the ego.

It was for these reasons that when I saw the Hope into Action job 4 years ago, I did not initially think it was for me. I saw an organisation that was successful and had won multiple awards, with an inspiring founder, Ed Walker, who had just been awarded an MBE. I knew how tricky it would be to replace a much-loved founder and I assumed it was a job for someone else.

Different kind of challenge

But I remember feeling a distinct calling, I believe from God, that this was a very different kind of challenge that I should seek. To step into the ‘big shoes to fill’ – a phrase I heard more than once – was a very different situation than others I had encountered. Not chaos to rescue, but something more demanding: to serve and build on what someone else had sacrificed to create.

It has been an immense privilege to lead Hope into Action over the last 3½ years. I love what we do and the fusion of passionate faith and professional excellence we strive for.

But one of my deepest reflections is managing my own ego. Stepping in to replace a founder is unique and only happens once. Founders have had the vision and carry the story of building an organisation from scratch. The work is their baby and the process of handing it over is no easy task.

Genuine humility

Which is why the positive and trusting dynamic with Ed has mattered so much to me. Last week, we invited Ed and his wife Rachel back as keynote speakers at our annual conference, Rooted: Homelessness Ends in Community.

Rachel spoke powerfully about what it had been like behind the scenes during the founding years – raising their children while their own money was on the line and the future uncertain. Ed spoke about the founding vision, his dreams for Hope into Action, and was very honest about the challenges and mistakes he made along the way.

Ed and I also did a seminar together on Faith in Leadership where we were both very honest about these dynamics. As Ed said:

“I did trust Jon, but I trusted God more.”

All these contributions showed why the handover to me has worked well. Ed was always upfront and honest with me – not indulging in fake modesty but showing a genuine humility which enabled me to step into the leadership role with support but without encumbrance. He managed his own ego which has helped me manage mine.

Greedy and needy

Self-belief and confidence are important and positive characteristics. But we are all chipped and cracked, and we all need to manage our brittle egos. This is especially true for anyone in leadership. It is easy to become greedy for praise or overly needy of affirmation, and to develop a ‘Main Character Syndrome’ where you put yourself at the centre of everything.

For me, the most significant factor has been the daily discipline of prayer. And rather than a mechanical routine, prayer has increasingly become a space to dwell on God’s grace: to know that through Jesus, I am loved, forgiven and cherished. This is where my greedy and needy tendencies can be honestly brought.

It is here, in that unhurried dwelling, that grace does its work: softening the defensiveness, loosening the grip of ego, making room for something more truthful about myself and the challenges the day will bring.

Grace enabling truth

Dwelling on grace has helped me better engage with truth. To see and understand what is really happening, to be self-aware of its impact on me and my emotions. Prayer has provided the resources to engage in challenges rather than retreat from them.

For leaders, this inward ‘soul work’ is of strategic importance. If we don’t attend to what is happening inside us, it will not just affect us but the organisations and institutions we are responsible for. We must ‘guard our hearts’ and there is a close link between personal humility and organisational humilty.

Showing our ‘withered hand’

John Ortberg has written a brilliant book: Steps: a guide to transforming your life when willpower isn’t enough, based on the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous (G+T review coming soon). He draws on the moment Jesus heals the man with the withered hand in Luke 6, telling him to publicly show his affliction before everyone:

“Get up and stand in front of everyone“. Expose your shame. Reveal your weakness.”

This moment may have been awkward. It is tempting to hide our struggles and wounds in shame and secrecy. But Jesus’s grace invites us to share our brokenness: this is the route to freedom and healing.

Ortberg invites us all to join the ‘fellowship of the withered hand’: those who are able to speak about their weaknesses and challenges, not with false modesty but with genuine humility. Its a great pointer to how we can manage our own egos: to trust the deep grace of God which enables us to be open and truthful, and for this truth to set us free.