It took me a long time in my professional life to learn that my chances of getting what I wanted increased significantly if I asked for it.

It seems obvious, but somehow, between politeness, awkwardness, fear of rejection, or humility, I forgot. As a child, I had no hesitation in asking for things. But somewhere along the way, I got out of the habit.

Like in a relationship, asking for what you want avoids others having to guess—and potentially getting it wrong. If no one knows what you need, it's easy to feel overlooked, even when no one meant to ignore you.

That's not to say asking is easy or without risk. Social norms, power dynamics, and biases mean that the same request can be received very differently depending on who asks. In some cases, asking outright might even backfire. But when possible, asking remains a powerful tool.

Sometimes, asking is an obligation. If you're seething with resentment because you stayed late at work when you really needed to be back early today, that serves no one very well. You might do a worse job and be unhappy to boot. If there's something you need to be happy in your job and your manager doesn't know, it's hard for them to help.

Twenty years ago, my wife and I went on an expedition to climb Mt Kenya. As we reached camp on the second day of hiking, one group member shared that he couldn't eat any foods containing gluten. By then, finding alternatives was challenging—the meals had been planned and packed days before—and jeopardised the whole trip.

To ask for what you want, you must first figure out what you want. This isn't always straightforward, and it's easy to drift along without thinking about what you'd like and where you want to go. Doing the hard work to figure that out helps you and those you work with when planning and opportunities for change arise.

You might never get what you ask for. But I've found that even when I didn't get what I wanted at the time, I sometimes got what I asked for later. When people know what you're looking for, they're more likely to think of you when the right moment comes.

Is there something you want but haven't actually asked for? Maybe now's the time.

"You get in life what you have the courage to ask for."

Whose Job Is It?: The Responsibility Poem

Asking for What You Want

The Three Bricklayers’ story illustrates the power of purpose.

A simple version goes that a person walked past a building project and asked three workers the same question: “What are you doing?”

The first replied, “I’m laying bricks.”

The second replied, “I’m building a wall.”

And the third replied, “I’m creating a cathedral.”

The story highlights how we can view our work differently depending on whether we focus on the immediate task, the short-term goal, or the larger vision. The first worker focuses on the task at hand, the second sees the outcome of their work, and the third connects to the broader purpose of the project.

Various tellings have the first worker hunched over or working slowly. The second and third workers take increasing pride in their work, often achieving more.

There’s value in all three perspectives. There can be a lot of pride and skill in laying bricks—or whatever your equivalent task is—as well as it can be done. Setting clear, intermediate goals keeps progress on track. And someone who spends all their time looking at plans or daydreaming about what the building will become may not lay bricks as well as they need to.

To do something well, we probably need a balance of all three aspects:

Progress through clear intermediate goals

Understanding what I’m working towards and believing it’s worthwhile is a powerful motivator for me when the going gets tough.

This post isn’t really about cathedrals, but I studied the brilliant Catalan architect Antoni Gaudí in my teens. As a real-life cathedral metaphor, his incredible Basílica de la Sagrada Família in Barcelona is a striking example. Gaudí’s vision for the basilica has inspired generations of artisans and workers since he took over the project in 1882. Execution, however, has been a challenge, with construction ongoing today. But that hasn’t stopped it from inspiring and drawing in visitors for decades.

I like the three bricklayers parable as a reminder that when I’m grinding on something, it helps to reconnect with the why behind my effort.

Like many parables, this story has been told in different forms. An early version appears in Bruce Barton’s 1927 book What Can a Man Believe (p252), featuring Sir Christopher Wren, the architect of St Paul’s Cathedral in London after the Great Fire of 1666.

“One morning he passed among the workmen, most of whom did not know him, and of three different men engaged in the same kind of work he asked the same question: ‘What are you doing?’

From the first he received the answer: ‘I am cutting this stone.’

From the second the answer was: ‘I am earning three shillings and six pence a day.’

But the third man straightened up, squared his shoulders, and holding his mallet in one hand and chisel in the other, proudly replied: ‘I am helping Sir Christopher Wren to build this great cathedral.’”

It’s hard to believe it happened, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be helpful.

The Three Bricklayers Story

Leading from Any Chair is the idea that we all have the opportunity to influence the action even when we're not standing at the front. It's a principle for effective leadership and teaching yourself and others to lead.

In their inspiring book, The Art of Possibility, Benjamin and Rosamund Zander relate a story from renowned violist Eugene Lehner, who played in the Kolish Quartet and Boston Symphony Orchestra. One day, in an interpretation class led by Zander with Lehner as a guest coach, Ben Zander asked him, "How can you bear to play day after day in an orchestra led by conductors, many of whom must know so much less than you?"

Lehner said he was playing in a rehearsal in his first year in the orchestra when the conductor, Koussevitsky, struggled to lead the orchestra as he wanted through a tricky Bach piece. A friend of Koussevitsky and fellow conductor, Nadia Boulanger, was sitting in on the session. Koussevitsky stopped and asked if Nadia would conduct the passage so he could hear what it sounded like from the back of the hall. Nadia conducted the passage without a hitch, and the rehearsal continued. But the episode left Lehner ever wondering and waiting for the moment when a conductor might say to him, "Lehner, you come up here and conduct. I want to go to the back of the hall and hear how it sounds."

"It's now 43 years since that happened," said Lehner, "and it is less and less likely that I will be asked. However, in the meantime, I haven't had a single dull moment in a rehearsal as I sit wondering, 'What would I say to the orchestra, should I suddenly be called upon to lead?'"

There are many occasions when I have personally grappled with whether now is the moment to step up and lead. Sometimes, I have taken them. Other times, I feel ashamed that I sat back and let events unfold without contributing.

It's the easy path to defer to whoever's leading and consider that there may be better times to influence or say what you think needs to be said. Or you can take the view that we're all responsible in some way for what we're experiencing, and we all have the opportunity to influence for the better.

You don't have to be the captain on the field to influence your fellow players.

A typical example I've experienced is seeing a presenter struggle in a meeting, perhaps with technical difficulties or audience confusion. It may take only a little to try and help with the tech or to ask the presenter to explain a point that you see needs to be clarified for people. Or, as an audience member, you can sit back and consider it not your problem.

Once, in the middle of a performance at a wedding, the music suddenly clicked off for the performer. Immediately picking up on the problem, the wedding photographer started singing the melody, picking up where the music left off. Getting the idea, all the guests joined in, continuing the music to the end. This quick intervention undoubtedly led to a better show for everyone, including the performer.

When you choose to step up, it's an opportunity to learn to lead. You may discover that there's more to leading than it seems and gain empathy for the leaders around you.

By constantly asking myself, "What would I say should I suddenly be called upon to lead?" I am mentally rehearsing for when I am needed, for when I am in the position of a leader. It speeds up my learning and keeps me always ready for action.

It's one reason why always thinking of questions at a talk or conference is valuable. It forces you to engage with the material, and when the opportunity arises, you're ready to step up and ask about what matters to you or what everyone is thinking.

Identifying passion and the leaders in front of you

As a leader, if you believe you are superior, for example, as the conductor who doesn't consider the orchestra members to have anything to contribute to the interpretation of the music, then you are likely to suppress the voices of the very people you need to deliver.

People want to contribute—that's why they attended the class, joined the company, or trained in their discipline. Rosamund Zander advises that, as a leader, we can train ourselves to spot the passion of the people in our teams. We can actively look for occasions to allow team members to lead. And if we don't see the passion, we can ask ourselves, "Who am I being that they are not shining?"

We can learn to lead at any time. So the next time you're just one in a crowd, consider that you can lead from any chair. Ask yourself, "What would I say if I were suddenly called upon to lead?"

In case it wasn't clear, I highly recommend The Art of Possibility, which I listened to as an audiobook read by Benjamin and Rosamund. And I always recommend finding 20 mins to watch Benjamin Zander's classic TED talk, The Transformative Power of Classical Music. Left-buttock playing is a sketch I've been planning for a long time.

The Responsibility Poem: Whose job is it?

What drives us: Autonomy, Mastery, Purpose

This is the last time I plan to draw an orchestra. I now know a little of what it must feel like to draw Where's Wally?

Leading from Any Chair

The Pyramid Principle is an approach to getting your message across by starting with the main idea supported by the relevant facts or arguments grouped by linking ideas. In this way, the writer clearly makes their point and shows how each idea supports it rather than having the reader try to piece it together as they muddle through.*

As everyone is different, we can't help others draw inferences different than we intend if we present each point in isolation. Instead, leading the reader through by first showing where you're going then raising and answering questions in turn, helps make the reader's life easier.

Barbara Minto, who presented this idea in her book The Pyramid Principle, distinguishes between our everyday approach of thinking through an issue where we often start bottom-up and ultimately get to, or figure out, our main point at the end. While this may be fine for a memo to reschedule a meeting, it's not ideal for an important proposal. Communicating bottom-up makes the reader work harder throughout and risks losing them along the way. Minto advocates doing the work upfront of organising your ideas and presenting them top-down, in a pyramid fashion, to get to the outcomes you want.

Rather confusingly, a related writing technique for journalism is called inverted pyramid writing.

*I first wrote the last sentence here in reverse while thinking through my point: "In this way, rather than having the reader wonder as they go through what point you're making and how the ideas fit together, you have instead done this work for them." Interesting to compare the two.

The Pyramid Principle

There’s an old short story called “Whose job is it?” that goes like this:

This is a story about four people named Everybody, Somebody, Anybody, and Nobody.

There was an important job to be done and Everybody was asked to do it.

Everybody was sure Somebody would do it. Anybody could have done it, but Nobody did it.

Somebody got angry about that, because it was Everybody's job.

Everybody thought Anybody could do it but Nobody realised that Everybody wouldn't do it.

It ended up that Everybody blamed Somebody when Nobody did what Anybody could have done.

It used to be up on the wall in my secondary school many years ago. Its message of taking ownership and responsibility and not assuming others will do what you don’t want to do has stuck with me ever since.

It’s rather like the famous advice to be the change you wish to see happen. Litter doesn’t clean itself up. Broken things don’t fix themselves. It might be up to you. (see the Bystander effect)

The story seems to be a condensed version of a longer piece by Charles Osgood called "The Responsibility Poem," though I couldn't find an original source anywhere.

Also see: For want of a nail, the story spine, the Accountability Ladder, RACI

Whose job is it?

VUCA stands for Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity and Ambiguity.

The VUCA framework is a reminder to consider how to lead and adapt to the challenges of living in a volatile, uncertain, complex and ambiguous world.

In his book Leaders Make the Future, futurist Bob Johansen provides counterpoints to each that leaders can use:

We live in a VUCA world, but we can handle it.

The VUCA framework originated in the US Army War College.

VUCA is an acronym, as opposed to an initialism. Also see OODA Loop.

VUCA

Being clear is not just being helpful. It's actually being kind.

Being unclear about expectations, fuzzy on what you really need, or skirting around an issue, is actually unkind — it sets people up to fail and creates problems in the future.

If you don't give clear feedback, you're holding that person back from improving.

If you say two weeks, but you're really expecting one week, you'll resent it when it's not done in time.

If you say it's really fine when it's not, you'll continue to be upset about how things are going.

Clear is kind is a simple reminder, though by no means always easy, of how being clear in your communication is the generous, brave, helpful, and kind thing to do.

I learned clear is kind, and unclear is unkind from Brené Brown in Dare to Lead. She said she first heard it in a 12-step meeting. I borrowed the dancing emphasis from the always excellent Eva-Lotta Lamm.

Clear is kind

Extrinsic motivation is the carrot or the stick — when the motivation for doing something is an IF/THEN reward or punishment. We use extrinsic motivation all the time like paying people to come into work, or issuing speeding fines to make people slow down. It can work well for simple problems, basic compliance, and short-term results.

However, when you need long-term behaviour change, when creativity is needed, or you're tackling complex problems, external rewards and the threat of punishments can even decrease performance and productivity. Rewards only go so far if you want to inspire a hit album, create the next Oscar-winning film, or create a breakthrough product. That is, for most of the important work we do in our lives, including I believe parenting, using extrinsic motivators of rewards or punishments is likely to be far less effective than tapping into intrinsic motivation — motivation that comes from inside ourselves.

I like Dan Pink's Autonomy, Mastery and Purpose framework for intrinsic motivation. His TED talk on the Puzzle of Motivation is also a fun and interesting watch.

Extrinsic motivation

I've read that Steve Jobs used to tell a story to new VPs about a janitor and a CEO. If you were the janitor and were asked to clean an office, it's reasonable to have not cleaned it if you found the door was locked and you didn't have the key. However, somewhere between the janitor and the CEO, the reasons or excuses for why something happened or couldn't be done stop mattering. It probably isn't your fault that the system went down, or that you didn't have access to the office, but as a leader it's your responsibility to make things happen and mistakes are now your responsibility too.

The sketch is not meant to downplay the role or attitude of janitors in any way or say that this is the difference between janitors and CEOs. Here's more on how Steve explains it.

The story is a nice example of the accountability ladder.

I learned this from the excellent Julie Zhou.

Reasons stop mattering

Bosses push information up to authority. Leaders push authority down to information.

This little gem is from ex-submarine captain turned leadership guru, David Marquet. Pretty much any talk by him is great, but here's an entertaining and thought-provoking talk by him I enjoyed.

See his book Turn the ship around!: A True Story of Turning Followers Into Leaders

Push authority to information

A manager or leader can be an umbrella or a funnel.

An umbrella shields the team from distractions, last-minute changes, and conflicting priorities, creating a protective space where they can focus and thrive. This umbrella management style ensures the team has the clarity and autonomy needed to do their work.

A funnel, however, allows every request, deadline, and distraction to pour straight through, leaving the team overwhelmed and struggling to keep up.

As organisations grow, the demands on a team often increase dramatically—especially in areas like product management at tech companies. Left unchecked, these demands can drain a team’s time, energy, and ability to focus on what really matters.

Todd Jackson, former product manager of Gmail, captured this perfectly with the umbrella and funnel analogy: great managers act as umbrellas, shielding their teams and enabling progress. Poor managers, by contrast, become funnels that overload their teams.

All of us want autonomy to choose our own actions, but none of us want to be overwhelmed.

Manager time, maker time (or Manager's Schedule, Maker's Schedule)

Umbrellas and funnels

Manager Time and Maker Time explain how managers or makers need to manage time differently.

In Manager Time, a day is neatly sliced up into hourly chunks according to the calendar. Meeting someone is as easy as finding a free slot that coincides. You don’t have to worry too much about what you’ll be doing next as your calendar will tell you.

In Maker Time, a day is an open book to get something hard and meaningful done. Even thinking when a meeting might be and remembering to go can distract from getting on with making.

Long, uninterrupted chunks of time, not sliced and diced by meetings on the hour, are ideal for making progress on hard problems and tackling something new. Even a single meeting in the middle of an afternoon can disrupt that long, meaningful chunk into two, making it harder to tackle something big as you have to context switch and pick up where you left off.

Most modern offices operate on Manager Time. It’s great for meetings but comes at the cost of getting meaningful work done. If you’re a maker, you may associate with the feeling that to get some real work done, you need to do it on the weekend or an evening after everyone’s gone home, when you’ll be free of interruptions.

If you’re a manager, consider your makers when you schedule your next meeting.

This observation is from Paul Graham's excellent article Maker’s Schedule, Manager’s Schedule.

Umbrella management and funnel management

Manager time, maker time

The accountability ladder is a framework for taking accountability for a situation in which we can move from a powerless victim mindset to a powerful, accountable mindset.

There are many ways to respond when things go wrong or need to be done. If you choose a victim mentality, it’s easy to ignore the situation, blame others for it, declare your powerlessness, or just wait and hope. Or you can consider yourself accountable and adopt a mentality of power, acknowledging the situation, owning it, looking for solutions, and taking action to do your best.

Bruce Gordon explains the accountability ladder (grainy, slightly odd video) with a fun story about him and his son in which they realise his son has homework due tomorrow that’s not done.

Most of us have more power over our situations and more potential for impact than we usually give ourselves credit for—whether it's our jobs, our friends, the environment, or local issues. Perhaps considering your position on the accountability ladder is a good place to start.

I love this quote from Erling Kagge, the first person to walk to the Triple Poles:

"Most people underestimate the possibilities you have in life. And that’s a bit sad…But don’t underestimate yourself. Also, like I said: Get up in the morning."
— Erling Kagge

There are many versions of the accountability ladder. I couldn’t find a definitive source. If you know, please get in touch.

The accountability ladder

We know it intuitively: we trust each person we meet to varying degrees. The trust battery is a metaphor that helps you think about and visualise these trust levels.

The concept is from Tobi Lütke, the CEO of Shopify. He explains, for example, that when a new colleague joins your company the trust battery between the two of you may start out at around 50%. Each time the new colleague acts in a way that earns your trust that level increases, and if they let you down the trust battery level goes down. It can be long and slow to fill up the trust battery yet quick to drain. Each time we interact with someone we are subconsciously considering the level of their trust battery and that level affects how we respond to people.

Lütke says at Shopify they found it a useful way to surface and talk about trust in reviews without it feeling too personal.

I learned about it from the excellent book It Doesn’t Have to be Crazy at Work

The trust battery: A handy metaphor to think about trust

In Dan Pink’s book Drive, he looks at scientific studies showing that the all too common approach to motivating people involving rewards and punishments, or the carrot and stick approach, ultimately doesn’t help motivate people for the tasks and work we have to do today.

Instead, we do our best work when driven by intrinsic motivation — motivation from inside us rather than imposed externally like rewards or punishments. And the 3 facets he highlights that help intrinsic motivation are:

Autonomy: being in control and able to guide both what we do and how we do it

Mastery: our desire to continually be improving and learning and bettering ourselves

Purpose: working towards something we think is worthwhile. Having a North Star to aim for and a reason it’s worth doing what we’re doing.

I find it a useful framework to think through whenever I’m not feeling motivated or when I want to help make sure the people I’m working with are motivated.

Also see: flow at work, Goldilocks tasks, the zone of proximal development, on parenting

What drives us: autonomy, mastery, purpose

The OODA loop is military strategist John Boyd’s framework for combat operations that also turns out to apply quite well to businesses and learning in general. It emphasizes a rapid cycle of Observing, Orienting, Deciding and Acting.

Though it’s not so different from the classic test-learn cycle or a good design process, Boyd’s framework has a lot of nuances. I found applying it to my own life valuable because:

The faster you can do this loop—in your work or in a conflict of any kind—the more solutions you can try and the quicker you will learn.

If you’re competing against others, completing your OODA loop fast and acting to change the environment for them means you can disrupt their loop and force them back to the observation step before they can act. It slows them down, creates confusion and gives you an advantage.

To apply the OODA loop to a business context, it can help to reconsider the points on the cycle as Frame, Strategize, Test, and Gather.

I learned about it from Reid Hoffman’s excellent Masters of Scale podcast.

The OODA loop features in my book Big Ideas Little Pictures

My original OODA loop sketch was an animation

OODA Loop

Simon Sinek’s simple idea to start with why. To get a better feel, watch his 18min TED talk: How great leaders inspire action. I found his concrete example of “It was the ‘I have a dream’ speech, not the ‘I have a plan’ speech,” helps keep in mind the power of starting with why and painting a vision in order to inspire and lead. Now, if you have a vision, a strategy and a plan, well, then you’re in business.

People don’t buy what you do, they buy why you do it.
— Simon Sinek

Simon’s has parallels with another I like:

Products aren’t just things that you buy, they’re things that you buy into.

Leadership sketches