Dear leader,
I know you’re busy, so I’ll get straight to the point.

Imagine you’re in your office early one morning, coffee in hand, trying to rally your people around this grand vision only you can see. You’ve got your slide decks, an idea for new collaboration tools, and planned workflows.
You’re fired up. You hit “start meeting” and lecture everyone for 90% of the session. Halfway through, you’re already exhausted, feeling like you have to drag everyone along and make every decision yourself. You sip from your cup and ask if there are any questions, but make sure to squash anything that threatens your vision. 

You re-interpret anyone’s comments to fit your narrative so you can go on round two. Not a whisper of dissent. Heads bob up and down in silent agreement. Yet nothing meaningful happens once that Zoom call ends.

Dear Leader… that’s not collaboration. That’s the result of a strange fear in high-definition.

You might think your problem is a lack of strategy decks or the absence of some fancy new productivity software. You might think you haven’t hammered out the perfect workflow or that your project management tool is outdated. Sure, those could use a tidy-up. But they aren’t the real root of the issue.

Here’s what’s happening: your team doesn’t trust you.

Harsh? Maybe. But after two decades as a designer and a solid decade consulting for various organisations, designing products and services, I’ve seen the same pattern repeat more times than I can count. The biggest barrier to collaboration is the fear of speaking up, being wrong, or stepping on the boss’s toes.

And let’s be honest: fear usually starts at the top, with leaders like you.

Picture this: you’re in a Zoom call [again], you got air-time.
You’re laying out your vision like Moses handing down commandments, and the room is dead silent except for the sound of nodding heads. You leave thinking, “Wow, I nailed it.”

But here’s the punchline: that’s not respect; it’s everyone operating in survival mode. They’re nodding because it’s safer to stay quiet than to poke the bear. They know you have to win every argument and that you always get your way. They’ve grown used to your “Give me options” routine, as if you’re some kind of design deity who magically discerns good ideas by "gut feel" alone.

Stop and think for a second: you have no practical experience designing solutions, zero grasp of the principles or terminology, and no skill set for running workshops or interpreting research. Yet you still want final approval on what’s “good,” ignoring best practices and core principles.

Meanwhile, you hoard half-baked ideas to toss in everyone’s face later. Guess what? Most of them don’t make sense, and you will never know because nobody is interested in disturbing your delusion.

When you’re in meetings with higher-ups, you wing it, invent jargon on the spot, and then let the room quiet to bask in your echo chamber.
But here's the thing: Some people see your delusion for what it is; others think, “What the actual f/ck is happening here?”.

Your team can't help here because you are using their oxygen tanks. They've already endured those two-hour meetings on mute. Nobody will dare to say, “Boss, I think you’re wrong here...”.

Nobody points out the landmines. You’re left believing you’re either a genius or that you’ve hired a bunch of nodding yes-men with the collective spine of a wet noodle—and neither scenario ends well.

This isn’t about bashing you. I’m not here to gleefully poke holes in your leadership style. Think of this letter as a cold shower: uncomfortable but refreshing once you get over the shock. Because, dear leader, you need to do better so your team can do better. When they do better, you do better, and you look better.
(Yes, I’m aware I just used the word “better” five times in less than a paragraph.)

Collaboration doesn’t fail because your people don’t want to work together. It fails because they don’t feel safe being wrong, trying new things, or pushing back on your ideas. They’ve got bills to pay, kids to feed, mortgages to cover. Once fear sinks its teeth in, creativity doesn’t stand a chance.

So when you gather eleven specialists in a room, and they’re all silent as you pitch your next big idea, that’s not them admiring your brilliance. That’s them avoiding confrontation. It’s also the first sign you, dear leader, might be in trouble. If you can’t say “I don’t know” or “I was wrong,” your team picks up on that. They won’t risk being the one who corrects you.

Let me be blunt: lecturing your team makes you look greedy and insecure. It’s easy to come across as “the smartest person in the room” if you’re the only one talking. But you’re using all the oxygen, leaving your team to suffocate. That’s how you kill the culture, inflate your own myth, and lose touch with reality.

Play your authority card too often, and people will bow and scrape to your face but roll their eyes behind your back. That quiet cynicism spreads like mould on stale bread. Before you know it, even the best ideas die on the vine because nobody’s willing to champion them in your presence.

Let’s address the elephant in the room: the lone genius syndrome. We all want to be the next Musk, Jobs, or Zuck—the visionary who can see around corners. And, sure, maybe you’re brilliant. Perhaps you’ve got a sharp gut instinct that could slice through granite. But guess what? Your gut never outperforms a shared mind.

I’ve watched leaders blaze forward alone, ignoring the perspectives around them. They think leadership means speed and power and that pausing for consensus is a sign of weakness. But if nobody’s behind you, you’re not leading—you’re just on a lonely run.

When you do this often enough, your team’s desire to support you shrivels. They stop offering new ideas and instead focus on one thing: pleasing you. Once a culture of appeasement surrounds you, collaboration is kaput. Your perspective narrows, your results suffer, and you wonder where all the innovation went.

Real leadership isn’t about getting miles ahead of your team. It’s about moving forward together. It’s about creating a shared mind—a collective understanding of the vision, the path, and the reason why. Without that shared mind, you’re just yelling directions from the front lines, hoping everyone magically follows.

If you need proof, look at human history. We didn’t outlast sabre-toothed cats because we were the fastest or the strongest species on the block. We survived because we cooperated—pooling our skills, adapting together, and building our culture piece by piece. Collaboration made us unstoppable.

Let’s talk about culture. And no, I don’t mean the motivational posters on your wall or the ping-pong table in the break room. Real culture is how your people solve problems, take risks, and communicate. In a toxic culture, they keep their heads down, avoid blame, and do the bare minimum. In a healthy culture, they speak up, bounce ideas off each other, and support one another—even when they fail.

So, if you want collaboration that actually works, stop slapping “teamwork” on a slide deck and start rewriting the code of your organisational operating system. Without the right culture, collaboration will be six feet under before it even starts.

What happens when you blow it? Your best people either burn out or bail. Your projects deliver mediocre results. Your pipeline for new ideas dries up. And guess who ends up looking bad? You do.

In a fearful culture, your team stops pushing boundaries; they deliver only what’s asked, not what’s possible. They opt for safety over originality. That might keep the lights on, but it doesn’t spark the breakthroughs that drive real growth—and it sure doesn’t make you look like the leader you want to be.

A truly collaborative team will beat any lone mastermind in the long run. Every. Single. Time. Command-and-control leadership might feel powerful at the moment—like you’re Kim Jong Un at a rocket parade—but we all know how that approach ends: stagnation and eventual collapse.

Sure, being the supreme leader who calls all the shots can be fun. But do you want your enterprise to mirror North Korea? One person’s vision can only go so far before it bumps into a hard ceiling of reality. It doesn’t adapt or evolve; eventually, it topples under its own weight.

Yes, I think some leaders are like wannabe dictators, and I can recognise them. I was born in Romania in a dictatorship because of a directive of the communist party, a story for another time, because right now, this is about you, dear leader.

The great news is you don’t have to do this alone. You hired experts for a reason. They have decades of specialised experience. They’re thrilled to share their knowledge if they feel safe doing it. Empower them, and they’ll cover your blind spots, making you look like a rock star. That’s what synergy is all about.

Stop trying to be the hero of every story. Start being the guide who lifts others into hero status. Your main job is to fight for resources and remove barriers so your team can shine. When they thrive, you thrive.

So, dear leader, let me leave you with this simple truth: a shared mind will outstrip any individual genius. Fear kills that shared mind; trust fuels it. If you want real collaboration, build trust. Create a culture where people can say, “Actually, I think you’re wrong,” without worrying they’ll get the axe. Celebrate the lessons you learn from failure. Cherish the people who make you pause and think.

Because when you cultivate that kind of environment, you’ll never have to beg for collaboration—it’ll happen naturally. And everyone, including you, will be far better off for it.

Sincerely,
A.