What is leadership?
It should be self-evident that it is more than the title on a door or the seat at the head of a table. Leadership is a testament to one’s ability to navigate through the murky or even dangerous waters, and for the common good rather than personal gain. Given that our world is one in which political rhetoric is often reduced to sound bites and leadership itself is often conflated with celebrity status, many people find themselves asking: What does it mean to truly lead? And why does it matter?
Let’s get one thing straight. Leadership isn’t about popularity or poll numbers; it’s about principles. It has been said that, if you consider yourself to be a leader, but nobody is following you, you’re not a leader. That isn’t always true. A leader must be willing to stand alone if necessary. That is precisely what Martin Luther King, Jr. did when he strongly opposed the Vietnam War long before doing so was popular.
Leadership is the ability to stand firmly on one’s principles when the winds of political convenience blow hardest. This is what distinguishes a true leader from a mere politician. Anyone can play to a crowd — Huey Long certainly mastered that art with his populist flair — but a true leader, like Harriet Tubman or Václav Havel, inspires people to think beyond short-term political expediency; true leaders inspire us to do more and to be more.
Consider the case of the Roman Emperor Commodus, son of the legendary Marcus Aurelius. Commodus came to power at age 16 following his father’s death. (He was famously portrayed, with poetic license, by Joaquin Phoenix in the movie “Gladiator.”) Commodus governed with the belief that his “divine right” allowed him to act with impunity. His rulership was marked by a descent into tyranny, fueled by personal excess and a flagrant disregard for the Roman Senate and the people he was meant to serve. Commodus, like other leaders who lack principles, failed to grasp that leadership without a moral compass is not leadership; it is despotism-in-waiting. True leadership is always moored to ethical constraints.
When leaders abandon principle for power, they don’t just fail themselves; they fail the people who they should be serving. Leadership isn’t just a position — it’s a posture. You either stand for something, or you stand for nothing. And when a leader stands for nothing, they fall — and they can take down an entire nation with them.
By contrast, there are leaders like Eleanor Roosevelt, who stepped into a role that is often thankless and fraught with challenges — personal and political. As First Lady, she redefined what leadership could look like by becoming a powerful advocate for human rights, social justice, and equality. She faced constant scrutiny and criticism, not merely because of her bold actions but because of what she represented — a new vision for American leadership that emphasized empathy and action. She pushed her famous and powerful husband to do more for the common people. Our nation is better because of her taking a “nothing” role and doing “something” with it.
Leadership isn’t for the faint of heart. It is not for those who wilt under pressure or flee from challenges. It is for those who are willing to put themselves on the line. Great leaders don’t just lead from the front; they lead from within, demonstrating empathy, courage, and a willingness to make tough calls, even when those calls come at a personal or political cost.
Why does all this matter? It matters because the challenges that we face today are not going to be solved by slogans or sound bites. Environmental degradation won’t pause for a more convenient political moment. Economic inequality won’t fix itself if we just look the other way. Our societal divisions won’t heal because we pretend that they don’t exist. We need leaders who are willing to take risks for the right reasons, who are more interested in doing what is necessary than in doing what is easy or expedient.
The stakes are high. Leaders like Sojourner Truth, who tirelessly fought for abolition and women’s suffrage, understood that social change doesn’t happen by itself; it must be demanded. Truth, much like Frederick Douglass before her, demonstrated that leadership is about persistence, about fighting for a more just and equitable future, irrespective of the odds. Truth spoke to power, and power had to listen.
So, what does this mean for us? It means that we must demand more from those who claim to lead us. We must ask not just what they stand for, but who they stand with. Do they have the courage to stand against injustice, even when it comes at a personal cost? Are they prepared to lead not just in title but in spirit?
Leadership is not a popularity contest; it is a profound responsibility. It is about doing what is right, especially when it is hard to do so. When it comes down to it, leadership is not just about guiding others; it is about showing the way forward with clarity, with courage, and with conviction.
Leadership matters — now, more than ever.
Larry Smith ’92 is president and CEO of Indianapolis-based Fathers and Families Center, which equips fathers of all ages, races and socioeconomic backgrounds, and empowers families so that children thrive. Following his very first job out of Williams at Cummins Inc. – where he became the youngest director of corporate strategy in the company’s history – Larry has held leadership roles at a number of Indiana institutions, including the Hamilton County Community Foundation, Indiana University’s Randall L. Tobias Center for Leadership Excellence, Indiana University’s Lilly Family School of Philanthropy, Hudson Institute and YMCA of Greater Indianapolis. He is also founder and CEO of Leading Edge Advisory Firm.
An ordained minister, Larry is the proud parent of three exceptional children and a wonderful son-in-law. He is also the grandparent of two grandchildren (who he doesn’t spoil at all). A history major at Williams – the title of this article is an homage to legendary professor James MacGregor Burns – he also earned an MS in Management from Stanford Business School, where he was a Sloan Fellow. The original version of this commentary appeared in the Indianapolis Recorder.