Cascading leadership: sharing permission to be authentic

I joined the Cascading Leadership programme in March 2019 as a ‘partner’ (a charity leader seeking coaching from a peer). If asked, I would have said my motivation for applying was the paucity of development opportunities for leaders of small civil society organisations. In my 14 years of leadership in the sector I’d been on one course.

There was an implicit comfort knowing I had been matched with a ‘consultant’ (an experienced voluntary and community sector leader keen to coach a peer) of a similar organisational sector and size. But my expectations were positively disrupted before even meeting her.

Chris: ‘Will the consultants get paid mileage, or should we go to them?’

Mark: ‘That’s interesting. Why do you feel the need to do what’s best for them, rather than meeting them half way?’

[Long silence]

Chris: ‘I guess it reflects a need to please. I do tend to try to solve other people's problems first. [Silence.] And to be honest it’s impacting my work.’

This exchange illustrated so much of what Cascading Leadership had to offer. Leaders that model their tools and values even in administrative meetings. High-quality listening directed deep and between the lines. Powerful questions. Embracing naturally occurring silences as a necessary and useful tool in developing understanding. Holding space for reflection. The realisation that there would be no value without vulnerability. The development of self-awareness and openness. The choice to reflect, unearth and share.

'Together we built a space to slow down, to trust, to vent, to acknowledge failure, to be curious, to take risks, and to be accountable to oneself.'

My consultant came armed with questions, values and space. The approach was introspective and reflective. It assumed my wholeness, capability and resourcefulness. It presupposed that the sculpture was already complete within the marble block. It offered tools but trusted me to pick them up and chisel away. This would be no deficit-based ‘course’. No production line, constructing leaders from a parts bin of strategies, paradigms and models.

I came with an agenda that probably betrayed my business school education. How can I lead beyond organisational boundaries? Lead up and down? Lead strategically and operationally? Lead for impact? Lead sustainably? We got to those questions – but via much deeper ones. What are my personal values and aims? What is the role of sacrifice in leadership? What would the world be like if all leaders were like me? Together we built a space to slow down, to trust, to vent, to acknowledge failure, to be curious, to take risks, and to be accountable to oneself.

This was the version of leadership to which I aspired, whether I was leading or being led. It felt less like discovering a new way of being and more like validation. Cognitive consonance. Permission. I didn’t come out a different person but closer to being myself.

'I didn’t come out a different person but closer to being myself.'

Through the programme I realised that my motivations for applying as a partner had included anxiety about my own leadership, and protecting my ego from rejection. It had actually been the consultant role that had caught my eye. But despite having been a chief executive for seven years across two charities, an internal voice had said, ‘Not for you. Not good enough. Not yet. You’ll fail.’

So a measurable impact of my time as a partner was feeling able to apply for the ‘consultant’ role the following year. Not because I had shed my fears. But because I learned to notice them, interrogate them, and see them for what they are.

As I stepped into that role, I noticed my anxiety avoidance. In our Covid-19-induced remote interaction I was briefly tempted to stick my ‘powerful questions’ below my monitor. I noticed how my mind impaired my listening, fretting that my ‘partner’ would stop talking without me readying some life-changing question. I noticed my sense of achievement when a question stirred deep feelings in my partner, followed quickly by a sense of shame. And though I welcomed the shift from solution provider to curious companion, I noticed how easily the ‘Trojan questions’ came – ones that covertly delivered my personal opinions and remedies.

'The true impact is an ongoing commitment to asking better questions; listening deeply to myself and others; and noticing feelings, metaphors, and what is not being said.'

Even when I was asked to write this blog, ego and anxiety were in full swing. How gratifying to be asked! But ought not the opportunity go to someone else? Fortunately, any idea of the finished article is antithetical to the programme. The true impact is an ongoing commitment to asking better questions; listening deeply to myself and others; and noticing feelings, metaphors, and what is not being said.

This is the end of Cascading Leadership as a formal programme: I notice my sadness. I’ve already benefited as both partner and consultant. But a continuation would make my professional environment more efficient, effective, and (dare I say it in a managerialist world) more pleasurable. Deeper conversations. More powerful questions. More meaningful answers. Better solutions.

But even if the river is dammed, the waterfall continues. The ripples radiate and meet with constructive interference. I continue to ‘coach’ a voluntary sector leader in my spare time. I try to model what I have learnt in my interactions with others (always a work in progress). What I have learnt is that how we show up as leaders gives permission to others. This is the cascade.