I recall my time in construction, when I happened to end up leading a renovation project for an entire spa area of a Hotel in the capital area. I was part of the electrical subcontractor handling the electrical work in that level of the building. I had just started in that profession about 5 months prior. To put it briefly, I knew next to nothing about the work.
That construction “leadership role” was when my note-taking really took off, as it was the only thing keeping me afloat. I was truly practicing servant leadership, since I had no experience and all I could do amid seasoned professionals was shadow them with my notepad, asking what they needed and what we should prepare for next. Then I would coordinate between the rotating electricians, other subcontractors and the construction site supervisor, hussling to match schedules and resources together. Those construction workers were not an easygoing and supportive bunch, but largely a group of sleep-deprived, hungover, or otherwise grumpy guys trying to get through the day, hoping not to get bothered – and bother them I did.
That experience often colours my perspective on project leadership, although there are many ways to go about it, for sure. However, if it’s about delegating work, it should be accepted that if everyone in the team doesn’t have relevant things to do and a reasonably clear idea of what it is they’re doing - probably accompanied with a dash of understanding of why they’re doing it - the leadership is failing.
When I was studying music, we had bands and workshops. Every band had a leader on gigs. Usually in the wild, there was one that, for whatever reason, had more to do with the practicalities and supervision of things like selling gigs, handling contacts, or coming up with the repertoire. The common belief in the industry is that people naturally gravitate to this position and that it doesn’t fit everyone. It felt more like an objective truth than just a meek belief. However, when the teachers asked who should lead the workshop gigs, I suggested we take turns and each person try leading at least once. Since this was an artificial setting compared to how roles percolate in real-life, they could enforce this experiment. But the teachers were puzzled and retorted that not everyone is set up that way. I explained that the school environment allows for experimentation, so let everyone take a chance at it; it’s a win-win situation: either they get over the threshold and find out they are adept at it – or at least can do it in a pinch – or they accept it’s a shit position which they want to avoid and consequently will oblige to the leader’s asks with gratitude for not having to lead the band themselves. We ended up taking turns as band leaders
Too often, people think suggestions for changes to protocols and practices come from self-interest. I had been the leader in most of my bands and I wasn’t going for that, when I suggested taking turns. If there was any self-interest, it was mainly to challenge the common doctrines: do bands really need leaders, could anyone jump in, or would they change their attitude after going through the pain themselves? I found out that all three were true to varying degrees – and that shared experience helped shape attitudes on the road in the years that followed.