Later this year I will be marking five years as an independent consultant. This article is one of a collection of insights into experiences and insights I’ve gained along the way.
I’m keen to share my experience to show how I think, and how I operate. I hope this will give some examples of areas where I’m able to offer professional support or help.
I’ve been reading a lot about organisational and behavioural theory recently. It’s been genuinely instructional, and at times very enlightening. One of the many things this has led me to think about is the difference between ‘duties’ and ‘responsibility’ when you’re in a senior or leading role. I’m calling this the “responsibility of responsibilities”.
If you’re in charge of something, you have duties. These are the tasks, decisions and outcomes you are accountable for delivering. They’re usually clear enough, sitting in to-do lists, board papers and performance reviews.
But “responsibility” is broader than just the tasks that make up your “responsibilities” or regular duties. This is more about how you view and treat the position you’re in, especially when you’re at the top. It’s about behaving in a reasonable and ethical way, and being conscious of the power that comes with access, oversight and control.
That distinction really became clear to me when I found myself in a role where I was, unambiguously, at the top. When I was interim CEO of the Ivors Academy, everything significant came to me. Decisions waited for my sign-off. People paused until I said yes or no. I could move things forward, stop them altogether, or simply let them sit. I could accelerate or delay, choosing who and what to bring into particular developments, and when. In practical terms, I controlled what happened at any given moment. In my eight month tenure, day-to-day decisions that I made significantly affected the longer term direction of travel for the organisation. This wasn’t just internal to the nineteen staff members, but also for the board, various working groups, industry contacts and external stakeholders.
Being ultimately responsible for the two Ivor Novello awards ceremonies – frequently referred to as the most prestigious award to recognise the talent of songwriters and composers – added pressure, but also a sense of responsibility for something far bigger than the person that happened to be in the CEO role at the time.
So that’s the job, in terms of tasks and duties. But I became aware, quite quickly, of how people respond to you when you are “in charge”. This isn’t just in terms of the function of the role, but as you being the person occupying it. People listen differently, weighing your words carefully. They act on what you say, often without pushing back. If you’re not paying attention, you can get used to that feeling of expectant response from others very quickly.
You don’t necessarily realise that what you’re seeing is the way people want you to see them. This is connected far more closely to their motivations than to your expert leadership.
I was conscious of this because I’d come from environments where people in authority were often poor listeners, and even worse at giving clear or sensible direction. My own CEO experience was, as a piece of proper management consultancy, a perfect case study for seeing the dynamic from the other side. In other words, seeing what it looks like when people are, technically, in subordinate roles, but are also trying to work with you, interpret you, and manage the implications and risks that come with your decisions.
I took the role seriously. I wanted to do a good job. I wanted to deliver on the key objectives I’d been given, and wanted to leave the organisation in the best possible state for the incoming CEO to take in a new direction. I also wanted the opportunity to help develop my professional profile as positively as possible. Part of the appeal of a senior role is the opportunity to prove that you can do it, and to build reputational value.
I’m good with people, and I wasn’t especially tempted to let the power go to my head. But I could see how easily that might happen. There is something undeniably attractive about being “at the top”. People have to listen to you. Things move because you say they should. You can steer outcomes, shape narratives, and take credit for success. The role itself builds your profile. In some cases, the job title alone can do half the work for you. If you start taking that for granted, it can be tempting indeed to let a different set of behaviours creep in.
Can you honestly say that you are always acting in the organisation’s best interests? Do you rely on familiar voices and informal cliques rather than open challenge? Do you quietly not respond to certain emails because it’s easier not to? Do you take shortcuts, or become selective or economical with the truth, because it’s easier in the moment and unlikely to be challenged? Do you start building an empire rather than solving the problems in front of you? All these options are open to you.
These are not abstract risks. They are patterns I’ve seen repeatedly in people I’ve worked for or alongside over the years (and – to be clear – in my life before consulting!). The striking thing is where most of those people ended up. Almost none of the ones I’m thinking of are still in post. They were either removed, or presided over organisations that declined or collapsed under them.
In a few cases, those who remain do so because they are protected by powerful sponsors, or because the organisations themselves aren’t really businesses in the true sense. They operate more like attention or outrage machines, where some of these managerial traits are not just tolerated, but rewarded.
So this isn’t really a point about personal virtue, professionalism or being a “good person”. It’s more intentional and structural than that. When responsibility, in the broader sense, is ignored, the consequences can become a lot more than office politics.
Real consequences come in decision-making, in strategy, in risk, and ultimately in performance. Power, when used badly, is not only corrosive. It’s inefficient and can be extremely destructive. Once you’ve seen this from the inside, you can really see the damage it can cause. When you’re on the receiving end it can be very hard to live with at the time. But as I’m seeing now, it can also be a very important life lesson, albeit from the “how not to do it” school of management.
Mid-career take
Mid-career is often where you get your first taste of sitting close enough to power to see how it actually works. Earlier on, authority can look distant, impersonal and maybe even arbitrary as it relates to your own day-to-day experience. Later, the role of power and authority can become normalised as just a regular part of the job – but it’s still up to you how to work with it, when you’re the one in the driving seat. From the mid-career viewpoint, you may be able to see it from both sides for what it is.
You remember what it felt like to be on the receiving end of poor leadership: unclear instructions, bad judgement, not being listened to. This is what I call being “always in charge but never responsible”.
But then, at some point, you find yourself in a position where you could easily replicate the same patterns, even if this isn’t purely intentional or cynical.
Your position gives you influence and obligation, but you’re still close enough to the experience of those you’re managing to understand the impact of how you use authority. If you’re paying attention, it’s also the point where you see how thin the line is between being genuinely effective and believing your own press.
I don’t think the temptation comes at specific pivotal moments. I don’t think there’s any single point where you’re given a straight choice between taking one path or another; no point of no return, where you fall off the ethical cliff. It’s incremental. You’re always making choices, and they compound in aggregate over time. A decision here, a shortcut there, a slightly more convenient version of events being presented to people who trust you, and know no different. Everyone listening intently and nodding along, validating and perpetuating your singular judgement.
The discipline is in noticing that drift early, and correcting for it. This isn’t too hard to do if you keep your eyes open, and don’t get tempted into making shortcuts. In my experience, when these sorts of managerial traits have gone unnoticed or become embedded, then, by the time they become problematic, it’s usually too late to change.
Legal-Lite
There isn’t really a single or context-specific legal definition of “behaving responsibly” but the law does set standards and expectations in various ways.
At a basic level, senior roles come with formal duties. For directors and senior executives, these include acting in the best interests of the organisation, exercising reasonable care and skill, and avoiding conflicts of interest. These duties are enforceable, and breaches can have personal consequences.
Nonetheless, many of the behaviours that lead to poor outcomes, culturally or commercially, are not technically unlawful. Narcissism can, to one person, just as easily be charisma to another. Empire building, selective listening, informal cliques, or taking credit for other people’s work aren’t exactly legal issues in themselves. But they can be signals of background legal or commercial risk. Weak culture can allow misconduct to go unchallenged. Lack of oversight can turn manageable issues into serious problems.
Most of what I’m describing comes from observation, and as behavioural traits they sit outside formal legal rules. The law can tell you not to be dishonest, not to discriminate, or act negligently. It can set expectations around ‘best interests’ and set boundaries around financial conduct, governance and accountability. What it doesn’t do is require you to be thoughtful, to listen properly, or to use power with restraint. It can tell you to act reasonably or ethically, but these are fluid and subjective concepts. This all sits in the gap between legal obligation and professional judgement.
So while the law sets out some key concepts, responsibility in the broader sense is up to you.
If this legal framework is the baseline, then the question for you as an individual is quite simple: will you choose to operate merely within the base line, or make the extra effort to operate well above it?