The Goal is Never Personal Success

Leadership has a funny way of drawing our attention to ourselves.

We wonder whether people respect us.

Whether our ideas are being heard.

Whether we’ll receive credit if the project succeeds.

Whether someone else is getting more recognition than we are.

None of those questions are unusual.

They’re just the wrong questions.

The best teams I’ve ever been part of weren’t filled with people trying to become successful individuals.

They were filled with people trying to accomplish something worthwhile together.

That difference changes everything.

Think about the journey we’ve taken so far.

Trust allows people to be honest.

Honest conversations lead to better ideas.

Better ideas lead to shared commitment.

Commitment makes accountability possible.

But none of those things are the destination.

They’re simply the road that leads to results.

Not my results.

Our results.

Eight years ago, our team launched Dwell on Kickstarter.

We had a simple dream: to help people make the Bible the soundtrack of their lives.

When the campaign launched, something incredible happened.

Dwell became the fourth most-funded app in Kickstarter history.

People occasionally congratulate me for building Dwell.

I always smile because the truth is much less interesting—and much more beautiful.

I didn’t build Dwell.

I can’t write code.

I’m not a professional designer.

I don’t compose music.

I don’t record audio.

I don’t answer thousands of customer support emails.

If you removed everyone else from the team and left only me, Dwell wouldn’t exist.

Every feature people love…

Every recording…

Every illustration…

Every bug that was fixed…

Every customer who received help…

Every milestone we’ve celebrated…

It all bears the fingerprints of dozens of people.

That’s what teams do.

They accomplish things no individual ever could.

As leaders, we have a choice.

We can quietly collect credit whenever things go well.

Or we can spend our energy giving credit away.

The remarkable thing is that the second kind of leader almost always builds the stronger team.

People don’t mind following someone who shares success.

They’ll gladly give their best work to someone who consistently shines the spotlight on others.

I’ve noticed something over the years.

The happiest leaders I know aren’t obsessed with being indispensable.

They’re delighted when someone else succeeds.

They’re energized when a teammate grows.

They’re genuinely excited when someone else receives recognition they deserve.

That’s because their identity isn’t wrapped up in being the hero.

It’s wrapped up in the mission.

Perhaps that’s the deepest lesson leadership has to teach us.

Leadership was never about becoming the smartest person in the room.

It was never about having your ideas win.

It was never about building a reputation for yourself.

Leadership is the quiet work of helping a group of ordinary people accomplish something extraordinary together.

When that becomes the goal, something unexpected happens.

Egos begin to shrink.

Generosity begins to grow.

People stop asking, “How do I look?”

They start asking, “How can I help?”

That’s when teams become extraordinary.

Not because everyone is extraordinary.

But because everyone is rowing in the same direction.

The older I get, the less interested I am in building things that people remember I built.

I’d much rather be part of building teams that accomplish things none of us could have accomplished alone.

In the end, I suspect that’s what people remember about the best leaders anyway.

Not that they always had the right answers.

But that they created the conditions where ordinary people could do extraordinary work together.