12 August 2026 · 6 min read
Build People, Not Followers
A following is a measure of attention. Leadership is measured by the capacity you leave behind in others.
I think it is quite easy to build dependency and call it influence. People stay close to you. They ask what you think before they decide what they think. They quote you, defer to you, wait for you. And if you are not careful, you start taking all of that as evidence that you are leading well. But what is actually growing? Is it their capacity, or their need for yours? Those are not the same thing. A following tells me that I have people's attention. It does not yet tell me what I am building in them.
There is nothing wrong with people wanting your guidance. I am not suggesting that a leader should be distant, or that asking for help is a sign of weakness. It is not that. The question is what happens through that guidance. Are people becoming more able to think, decide and take responsibility, or are they becoming more careful to check everything with you? Both can look respectful from the outside. Both can make a leader feel valued. But one develops maturity, and the other keeps pulling everything back towards the same person. That is gravity. I would not confuse it with leadership.
I find the uncomfortable part is that dependency can feel very good to the person at the centre. If nothing moves without me, I must matter. If everyone needs my answer, I must have something valuable to offer. Well, perhaps I do. But having something valuable to offer and helping someone else develop their own capacity are different things. I can keep giving people answers and still leave them unable to make a decision without me. So I have to ask myself what I am enjoying: seeing someone grow, or being the person they cannot do without?
I think of it like helping someone learn to drive while keeping my hand on the wheel. I might prevent a wrong turn. I might get us there more neatly. But who is learning to steer? If I reach across every time the person chooses differently from me, I should not be surprised when they become reluctant to choose at all. They are waiting for my hand. The point is not that experience has no value. Of course it does. The point is that my experience needs to help someone else develop judgement, not become a permanent substitute for it.
That is why I believe real responsibility has to be given away early. And by responsibility, I do not just mean work. I can give someone plenty of work while keeping every meaningful choice for myself. They carry the tasks, but I still carry all the decisions. Then I wonder why they do not take ownership. Well, what have I actually given them to own? Real responsibility includes room to make a choice, explain it and carry what follows from it. If every answer has already been settled by me, I have given them instructions. I have not yet given them responsibility.
The objection comes quite quickly: what if they make a decision I would not have made? I think that is where this becomes real. It is easy to say I trust someone while they keep choosing exactly as I would. It is harder when they see another way and I have to let them follow it. That does not mean I stop caring about the outcome. It means my preference cannot be the final test of every decision. Am I making room for their judgement to mature, or only allowing them to practise reproducing mine? I need to know the difference.
I am not talking about leaving someone alone with responsibility they do not understand and then calling that empowerment. Giving responsibility away is not the same as withdrawing care. I can stay available, ask questions and help someone think through what they are seeing without taking the decision back. That is often harder than simply telling them what to do. I have to listen. I have to allow a pause. I have to resist finishing the thought for them. Back in the car, I can help them understand the road without putting my hand on the wheel at every bend.
This is the slower part, and I do not think there is much use pretending otherwise. Giving my answer may settle the immediate question more quickly. Helping someone arrive at a considered answer takes patience. There may be decisions I would have handled differently. There may be work that does not carry my particular way of doing things. But what am I measuring? If I only measure how closely everything reflects me, I will keep drawing responsibility back. If I measure the maturity growing around me, I have a reason to let people do more than follow my preferences.
So I want to be careful about what I count as success. How many people seek me out? How often am I consulted? How much weight does my opinion carry? Those things tell me something about the attention I receive. They do not, on their own, tell me whether I am leading well. I would rather look at what people are becoming able to carry. Can they think something through without waiting for my view? Can they make a decision and take responsibility for it? I am looking for capacity that belongs to them, not capacity they can only borrow from me.
And then there is the question I cannot get around: when I leave the room, does anything get better? Not just, does everything stay as I left it? That might still mean everyone is carefully following my instructions. Does someone else take responsibility? Does a decision improve because another person has room to exercise judgement? Can people bring something I would not have brought? If my absence only creates a queue of things waiting for my return, I need to examine what I have built. I may have made myself central without making the people around me more capable.
That is the distinction I want to keep in front of me. I can gather people around what I know, or I can help them grow into responsibility of their own. The second asks more of me. It asks me to give responsibility away before that feels entirely comfortable, to allow decisions I would have made differently, and to stop using how much I am needed as my measure of success. I do not want to mistake a following for the work of leadership. I want to build what outlives me, and that means leaving capacity in people that does not leave the room when I do.
If this is the kind of thinking you want to build on, start by finding out how you are wired to create wealth.
This one is filed under Leadership, part of what I believe about leadership.