Radical Humility

Radical Humility Plot Summary

Introduction

I still remember that cold January morning in Switzerland. Snow blowing sideways, my bones chilled despite layers of clothing, standing before a young sergeant as my flak jacket slipped from my frozen fingers and crashed onto the asphalt. BOOM! The sergeant, twenty-five years my junior and well below my rank, proceeded to chew me out like a naughty schoolboy. I had just started my training to become a military peacekeeping commander at nearly fifty years old, having left my family and business behind to make a difference. As I swallowed my pride and silently picked up the vest, I asked myself: "How can I make sure I never drop this damn thing again?" Little did I know this moment would become one of many lessons in humility during my nine-month deployment. Four weeks into my mission in Kosovo, I attended a school celebration in a remote village where I watched in shock as elementary school children reenacted wartime massacres to roaring applause from parents and teachers. Witnessing these first and second graders glorify the horrors of warfare, I felt disgust, anger, and judgment—but mostly, I felt incredibly humbled. My questions shifted from self-centered concerns like not dropping equipment to bigger questions about our role as peacekeepers and how we might help build lasting reconciliation between future generations. This transformation—from asking small questions about ourselves to bigger questions about our impact—represents the essence of Radical Humility, a new kind of leadership our complex world desperately needs.

Chapter 1: The Humble Leader: Why Self-Awareness Transforms Organizations

On the first day reporting to my peacekeeping command duties, I realized I didn't even know how to dress myself. At almost fifty years old, I couldn't properly put on my military uniform or holster my handgun. Having been out of service for twenty-two years, my military knowledge was outdated. Yet I was their commander. To gain their respect and complete our mission successfully, I knew I needed to lead by relationship rather than expertise. I started by building strong, collaborative relationships with my team and across the entire peacekeeping force. I invested heavily in social capital. Two key team members—my deputy commander and our warrant officer—were assigned to us at the last minute after we deployed. I had never met these mission-critical people, so I immediately took them to lunch to learn about their families, professional experiences, hobbies, passions, and their hopes and fears about our upcoming mission. Through these lunch meetings and regular one-on-ones with each team member, I continued to inquire about their professional and personal well-being while inviting feedback on my leadership. Because I showed genuine interest in each person beyond just the role they fulfilled, we bonded quickly. This enabled me to delegate and empower early on. For example, when I was absent on short notice, I tasked my deputy commander with handling an inspection by high-ranking officers. She was nervous but, thanks to our collaborative relationship founded on trust and transparency, was prepared to take on this crucial task and performed brilliantly. My leadership during the peacekeeping mission wasn't perfect, and I made plenty of mistakes. However, leading by relationships helped my team achieve one of the highest performance ratings in the peacekeeping force. It also earned me the biggest compliment I could wish for: at the end of our nine months together, several team members looked me in the eye and said, "With you, Captain—anytime again." Humble leadership means developing true self-awareness—having an accurate understanding of yourself, embracing your strengths while owning your shortcomings. It means seeing yourself as part of two-way relationships with those you manage and work with, valuing them as whole people rather than resources. It means seeing yourself in relation to the larger whole—as one actor in the play rather than the main character. And it means embracing continuous learning and growth, reframing failure as an opportunity rather than something to hide or be ashamed of.

Chapter 2: Relationships First: Building Trust Through Authentic Connection

Swiss national contingent commander Colonel Franz Gander was about to retire to his barracks when his worst nightmare came true. A message arrived via cell phone: "PLUTO, PLUTO, PLUTO. This is not an exercise. REAL, REAL, REAL." PLUTO was the code name for a worst-case scenario: one or more unit members in life-threatening condition or deceased. The colonel immediately ordered his staff to the Tactical Operations Center. Soon information arrived that a team member had suffered a serious heart attack and needed immediate open-heart surgery. The military hospital couldn't perform the procedure, and doctors recommended a civilian hospital in Pristina, Kosovo's capital. The colonel knew most local hospitals were in dismal condition, but this one supposedly catered to the elite. The alternative was transferring the patient to Switzerland via air ambulance, but that would take precious time. Reflecting later on his decision-making process, the colonel shared an important motto: "In Krisen, Köpfe kennen"—literally, "In crises, know the heads." It means building relationships with people before crises occur so you can rely on them when trouble strikes. The colonel called the Swiss ambassador to Kosovo at 11 PM, someone he'd gotten to know well through regular meetings. She assured him the hospital was good with the right surgeon and immediately called a friend who knew the best heart surgeon in Kosovo. The colonel also called his command in Switzerland to put an air ambulance on high alert and contacted the Italian contingent commander (whom he'd had coffee with the previous week) about using their plane if needed. All this happened between 11 PM and 2 AM. The patient had successful surgery in Kosovo and, after initial recovery, was transferred to Switzerland where he made a full recovery. Building relationships doesn't just pay off in a crisis. Studies on employee engagement consistently show that people are most engaged when they feel their work matters and when their boss and coworkers care about them personally. According to a Glassdoor survey, more than half of global respondents stated that a strong company culture based on trusting relationships is more important than salary—and this rises to two-thirds for millennials and Generation Z. Contrary to what some might think, building and strengthening relationships isn't just about being nice or liked. While it's the right thing to do, it also serves crucial business purposes: fostering proactive communication, deepening trust, and preventing the tribalism and silos that lead to indifference or manipulation. Though relationship-building takes time upfront, it prevents drama, distrust, and disengagement that would cost far more in dollars and emotional energy later.

Chapter 3: Leading Like a Compass: Empowerment Over Control

Finally! With a heavy sigh, I plunged into my airplane seat in Pristina, Kosovo. I kicked off my combat boots, opened my uniform top, pushed the seat back, and took a deep breath. After seven long months, I was finally on my way to see my boys back in Seattle for a long-awaited leave from my peacekeeping command. As the plane lifted off, I looked down on the landscape of this troubled nation and reflected on my team, now in the capable hands of my deputy commander. Not for one minute did I feel nervous about leaving my team alone—not over the past few months when I occasionally had to travel to HQ for meetings, and not now for ten days of leave. I knew my team was set up for success in my absence because I had empowered them from the beginning. One simple example: our team's daily deliverables were called daily situation reports (DSRs), which summarized our findings and had to be delivered to HQ staff by 1700 every day. I had my team members shadow these staff officers for a day or two. By working alongside them, my people gained a thorough understanding of the needs and pain points of these "clients." Just as importantly, through having Turkish coffee after lunch or a drink after work, my team members developed personal relationships with these officers. Instead of having all communication flow through me as the sole liaison, my team members felt empowered to pick up the phone and call HQ directly to get their questions answered. This removed me as a potential bottleneck. Getting to know others at all levels of the peacekeeping force helped increase our understanding of the strategic environment and empowered my team to make smart, independent decisions rather than waiting for my direction. April 15, 2013, was a glorious spring morning in Boston when Massachusetts Governor Deval Patrick received a call about the Boston Marathon bombing. Every time he entered the command center during the crisis, instead of telling people what to do, he would ask, "How can I help?" This leadership set a tone that spread through all response teams and agencies. Patrick was keenly aware of the common trap leaders fall into during a crisis: micromanaging to feel in control. Instead, he empowered by delegating responsibility and authority to those best suited for the job. The world changes rapidly, sometimes by the hour, and your team members often don't have time to feed a question up the chain and wait for a response. It may sound counterintuitive, but the faster things move and the more complex your business challenges are, the more authority you need to give up and the more you need to delegate and empower. By providing clarity of shared purpose, you show true north instead of providing a detailed map of how to get there. You become less involved in the weeds so you can be more relevant where you're truly needed.

Chapter 4: Transparent Leadership: Sharing Truth in a Complex World

I banged my fist on the table and got up from my chair. "Goddammit!" I interrupted one of my best team members, looked at him sternly, and said with a raised voice, "Now it's your time to shut up and listen!" I got the attention of my whole team. It was 2017, and we had been working together for nine long months during our peacekeeping tour in Kosovo. In all that time, I had never raised my voice. Now, four days before the end of the mission, I appeared to be losing it. I had summoned my team on a Sunday off because what had been happening over the past few weeks was unacceptable. Mission fatigue had set in, and I observed petty, hurtful behavior. People were saying negative things behind their teammates' backs rather than seeking open dialogue. They were avoiding one another rather than collaborating. While I understood the urge—we were all exhausted from living and working together 24/7—I couldn't accept it as their commander. I remembered an important principle from my mountaineering, endurance athlete, and military careers: accidents happen when the main push is over and people let down their guards. Shifting to an earnest but direct tone, I outlined the destructive behaviors I'd observed and ordered everyone to have honest one-on-one conversations with every team member for fifteen minutes each. "During that time, you will tell each other honestly what's bothering you. And that includes me. All the stuff I overheard over the past few weeks, I want you to share it with each other and me." My team followed through, and though most didn't like it, behavior improved significantly over the final days, and we finished our tour strongly as one team. I'm not advocating for demanding uncomfortable sharing in most situations, but with time running out and safety concerns on my mind, it felt appropriate. The main reason this worked was because we had built meaningful, trusting relationships over the previous nine months. The strong connection we had established gave me the license to force honesty when necessary. Forcing openness must be the exception. Instead, leaders should inspire it by taking proactive steps to share more with people and have them share more with each other. When hard things remain unsaid, passive-aggressive behavior and drama rise. Full transparency allows for difficult conversations so people can air their grievances. For your team to stay competitive, people need to understand how their work connects to the team's overall goal, which requires sharing more information. In our hyperconnected world, with vast amounts of data available at the click of a button, there's no hiding. Employees need to make smart, fast decisions independently instead of waiting for top-down direction—and for that, they need to know more about management's strategy, goals, and intentions. The only way they'll know more is if leaders share more through full transparency.

Chapter 5: Psychological Safety: Creating Fearless Teams That Innovate

What in the world is he doing here? That was the expression on the staff's faces as they watched my dad march through their offices in his hiking gear, me and my two younger sisters in tow. It was the early 1980s, and my dad had recently been promoted to Chief Information Officer at Swissair. We were returning from a hike when he decided to drop by a remote satellite office to meet the local staff. The manager, five levels below my dad on the organizational chart, was visibly shaken by the unannounced visit. Anticipating this, my dad brought local sweets to break the ice. After exchanging pleasantries, he asked about staff concerns and pain points as a remote office. There were nervous glances as team members tried to figure out how honest they could be. My dad doubled down: "I know you might feel uneasy sharing. This is not about going behind your boss's back. I know that I and my immediate team can always improve, so I really would love to hear your thoughts." Slowly, people opened up about what was working and what was challenging. My thirteen-year-old self watched as my father actively listened and took notes. As we left, he made a point of shaking everyone's hand, addressing them by name, and thanking them for their input. What I couldn't appreciate then was that my father had created psychological safety—the shared belief among team members that they're in a safe space for interpersonal risk-taking with no fear of negative consequences. Psychological safety isn't about being nice or cozy; it's about being candid and willing to acknowledge mistakes, ask for help, and speak up regardless of rank. In 2016, Google's Project Aristotle—researching 180 global teams over five years—found that psychological safety was far and away the most important dynamic setting highly productive teams apart, more important than individual skill, team size, or tenure. These findings have been replicated across industries, confirming that psychological safety is key to high-quality decision-making, healthy group dynamics, greater innovation, and more effective execution. The Boeing 737 Max crashes in 2018 and 2019 exposed a workplace dominated by fear, where employees refrained from voicing concerns about safety issues. The VW "Dieselgate" scandal and Wells Fargo's cross-selling fraud can also be traced to cultures where managers threatened employees with termination unless they delivered unrealistic results. Despite overwhelming evidence of its benefits, psychological safety remains rare in organizations because human instinct pushes us to avoid looking foolish or making mistakes in front of others. Creating a fearless team culture requires four key steps: First, reframe failure as an opportunity to grow rather than something to be ashamed of. Second, encourage speaking up by acknowledging your own gaps, asking powerful questions, and practicing active listening. Third, acknowledge and thank team members for their contributions, even when you disagree. Finally, build psychological safety through experiential learning together—putting your team through challenges that require vulnerability and mutual support. By championing psychological safety, you transform your team into a fearless unit where everyone feels empowered to speak up, take risks, and contribute their best ideas. In today's complex world, this isn't just a nice-to-have—it's a competitive advantage that drives innovation, engagement, and results.

Chapter 6: The Balancing Act: Being Tough on Results, Tender on People

I was out of breath pushing my bike up a steep hill. My backpack, filled with camping gear, felt incredibly heavy on my bike rack. I was twelve years old, returning from a Boy Scout weekend. While other kids were picked up by their parents, mine made it clear: "We support you attending Scouts, but you must ride your own bike. We are not shuttling you back and forth." Just as I started walking uphill again, I spotted my dad riding toward me. He slowed down, did a U-turn, and greeted me with his trademark "Mano" (one of his nicknames for me). "How was it?" he asked. "I thought I would meet you halfway so you don't have to make your way back home by yourself. Would you like me to take your backpack?" I felt elated to see him and grateful that I didn't have to make the long journey alone. As we walked up the hill together, both pushing our bikes, he inquired about the activities I enjoyed and my Scout friends. As a former Scout and avid outdoorsman, he genuinely cared about my experience. This feeling of being truly heard made it easier for me to receive the hard feedback he delivered a few minutes later: "Mano, you forgot one of the most important items on your packing list. Do you know what it is?" I had no idea. He answered: "Your emergency first-aid kit. Not good, Urs. Not good. Weak, very weak." Forgetting this item might not seem significant to others, but my dad's highly disciplined military approach to outdoor adventures was deeply ingrained in me. He rode his bike to accompany me home, offered to carry my heavy backpack, and genuinely cared about my experience. He showed he loved me while making it abundantly clear that forgetting my first-aid kit was unacceptable: I love you, and your work is not good enough. The notion that feedback is more likely to be heard when you've built strong relationships might seem obvious today, but it's a recent phenomenon. The traditional leader-as-hero paradigm, with an all-knowing expert directing people like chess pieces, has been deeply ingrained for generations. This is changing as leadership experts like Kim Scott popularize the importance of "radical candor"—combining "caring personally" with "challenging directly." Research shows that leaders who embody this tough-on-results, tender-on-people approach get promoted faster, reduce their stress, and are half as likely to quit. Their teams report higher job satisfaction, better engagement, less burnout, and produce better business results. Colin Powell captured this balance perfectly when he said: "The day soldiers stop bringing you their problems is the day you have stopped leading them" and "Being responsible sometimes means pissing people off." The balancing act between being tough on results and tender on people isn't easy, but it's essential. You must hold your team to the highest standards while building meaningful, trusting relationships. When you deliver tough feedback in a human way, showing you care about people as whole individuals rather than just as worker bees, you create a culture where stellar performance happens. Your people feel valued and motivated to excel, knowing you have their backs even as you demand their best.

Summary

Throughout these pages, we've seen how Radical Humility transforms leadership by replacing the outdated "hero leader" model with a more effective approach based on self-awareness, meaningful relationships, and continuous learning. The stories from military peacekeeping, corporate boardrooms, and everyday interactions all illustrate a powerful truth: the strongest leaders aren't those who claim to have all the answers, but those who have the confidence to acknowledge what they don't know and the courage to remain vulnerable while holding high standards. The five shifts we've explored—digging deep for self-awareness, being tough on results yet tender on people, leading like a compass through empowerment, practicing full transparency, and championing psychological safety—provide a roadmap for navigating today's complex world. As we face increasing volatility and ambiguity in our organizations, the ability to build trusted relationships, share decision-making authority, and create environments where people feel safe to speak up becomes not just beneficial but essential. The humble leader understands that in our interconnected age, no one person can have all the answers—true strength comes from creating teams where every voice matters, failure is reframed as learning, and people are valued as whole humans. When we lead with Radical Humility, we don't diminish our authority; we amplify our impact by bringing out the best in those around us.

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Urs Koenig

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