Dare to Lead

Brown claims that being trustworthy to others is generally very important to people. Since trust is inherent in creating a positive connection with another person, having one’s trustworthiness questioned raises fears that you will be socially rejected. Brown cites research by Stephen M. R. Covey and Doug R. Conant which shows that trust between management and staff is an essential ingredient to a company’s success. They consider trust a “must-have” in any workplace rather than a “nice-to-have” (223). The author laments that trust issues are particularly difficult to broach and, if wrongly pursued, can feel like an attack on one’s character.

She advises the reader to approach trust issues by using the BRAVING acronym: Boundaries, Reliability, Accountability, Vault, Integrity, Nonjudgment, Generosity (225). This tool is meant to positively guide conversations about trust during staff meetings in a way that is “actionable” (232). Brown posits that self-trust is also important; everyone needs to build a self-awareness about times when they let themselves down. She builds on this claim by referencing Brent Ladd, the director of education for Purdue University, who shares a personal anecdote about how his perfectionism and distrustful relationship with himself triggered trust issues with his colleagues. He reveals that once he learned to trust his own capabilities and contributions, he was able to be less controlling and judgmental of his staff, who in turn did great work for their projects.

Brown posits that “courage building” should begin at home and school by teaching young people the skills they need to become resilient to failure and rejection. She worries that many younger people are greatly overprotected and sheltered from failure, while others remain too unprotected. She laments that many parents have consciously tried to limit the adversity in their child’s life, and refers to the quote, “Instead of preparing the child for the path, we’ve prepared the path for the child” (242). This, Brown argues, means that people who do not know how to recover from failure will avoid taking risks and not understand how to learn from their setbacks. Brown writes that “learning to rise” is a crucial aspect of becoming resilient to failure and that it consists of “the reckoning, the rumble and the revolution” (243).

She writes that the first step, the reckoning, involves recognizing your own emotional response to something and questioning why you are feeling that way (250). Brown claims that most people do not progress past this stage, since they are raised to repress or offload their feelings rather than respond to them with curiosity. She summarizes the six most common “offloading” tendencies as: “chandeliering,” “bouncing hurt,” “numbing hurt,” “stockpiling hurt,” “the umbridge,” and getting “high centered” (254).

“Chandeliering” describes people repressing their reactions when they need to (e.g., when serving customers) but then erupting when confronted with challenges by colleagues. “Bouncing hurt” is when we do not acknowledge our hurt feelings but instead process them as anger or denial. “Stockpiling hurt” involves thoroughly repressing hurt feelings over a long period of time, which Brown shares can lead to problems like burnout and anxiety. “The Umbridge” is when people try to disguise their pain with superficial positivity and false cheerfulness. Becoming “high centered” is the fear of being stuck or out of control when you acknowledge hurt feelings, usually causing people to avoid them.

Brown advises the reader to practice a breathing technique called “Box Breathing” by breathing in for four seconds, holding your breath for four seconds, and then releasing it for four seconds. She names this as a technique for remaining calm while anxious, a quality she feels all leaders should strive for. After this “reckoning” of acknowledging feelings, Brown proceeds to explain the “rumble” where we have to confront the story we tell ourselves about certain situations. These “shitty first drafts,” as Brown calls them, are often based on limited data and imbued with hurt emotion (259). Unfortunately, no matter how incomplete or biased these inner stories are, our brains tend to reward us for thinking about them because we are inherently wired to seek patterns and make meanings. This behavior can come up in the workplace too, as people who do not have clear instructions or feedback can make up their own hurt “stories” about what is happening around them (260). Brown suggests that daring leaders ask for “SFDs” and allow their colleagues to “reality check their stories” (260).

Brown laments that people are prone to tell “confabulations”: lies which they believe to be true. For example, someone working with limited data may report a rumor that everyone will be laid off; it isn’t true, but they honestly believe it to be. In order to avoid becoming convinced by our own SFDs and theories, Brown writes that we need to challenge ourselves to gather more information and question our own feelings about the situation.

Brown claims that honestly sharing our “first drafts” with others can result in clearer communication and provide an opportunity for connection and empathy. She reiterates that making up theories is not limited to any one kind of person but is an inherently human trait. The author claims that the most harmful stories we can tell ourselves are those that undermine our own “lovability, divinity and creativity” (266). In the workplace environment, one way to address these kinds of stories is a “story rumble,” or a meeting where colleagues share their thoughts and feelings openly (268). Lastly, Brown writes that a positive “revolution” will occur when leaders and their teams become more honest about their personal fears and reactions in the workplace. The author concludes her book by reminding the reader to “choose courage over comfort” and work through their fears with bravery (272).