What the World's Leaders Teach Us About Leadership Itself
- Craig Bromage

- May 31
- 7 min read
Updated: Jun 2
Some leaders make you believe in something bigger than yourself. Others make you afraid to believe in anything at all. This article explores what separates them and what purpose driven leaders must do when they come face to face with self serving leaders.

There's a moment, when you watch a world leader speak, really speak, that you feel something shift.
Maybe it's a president standing in a city that isn't theirs, offering solidarity without strings attached. Maybe it's a prime minister who admits they got something wrong and tells you what they're going to do about it. Maybe it's just someone at a podium who looks genuinely uncomfortable delivering hard news, because they actually feel the weight of it.
You don't have to agree with their politics to recognise what you're seeing.
You're seeing leadership.
The Leaders the World Tends to Trust
Think about the global figures who, whatever your ideology, tend to command a kind of baseline respect. Leaders like Jacinda Ardern, who stood in front of a grieving nation in New Zealand and refused to name the Christchurch killer, not for optics, but because she understood that leadership is also about what you choose not to amplify. Or Volodymyr Zelensky, who stayed in Kyiv when he could have fled, looked into a camera, and said simply: "I need ammunition, not a ride."
You don't have to share their worldview. You don't have to support every decision they've made. But something in you recognises it: that's someone leading from something real.
What they have in common isn't charisma, though some have it. It isn't perfection, they all have failures and critics. What they share is a visible orientation toward people. Their power is in service of something beyond themselves. You can feel it, even through a screen, even across a language barrier, even when you disagree with the policy.
Simon Sinek would call it starting with why. Their why is legible. It's there in their body language, in the way they absorb pressure without deflecting it onto others, in their willingness to say the uncomfortable thing in service of something true.
That orientation toward people, toward purpose, toward something beyond the self is what earns trust. Not the title. Not the office. Not the uniform.
The behaviour.
The Leaders Who Rule by Fear
Then there's the other kind.
History is full of them, and the present day has no shortage either. Leaders who stay in power not because their people choose them freely, but because the alternative has been made too dangerous to consider. Leaders who wage war not because a genuine threat exists, but because a foreign conflict is a useful distraction from domestic failure. Leaders who bully smaller nations not for security, but for minerals, for coastlines, for the psychological satisfaction of dominance.
They are not hard to identify.
They surround themselves with people who agree with everything they say. They punish those who raise concerns. They hollow out institutions designed to hold them accountable, courts, press, elections, until the scaffolding of democracy remains but the substance has been gutted. They speak endlessly about strength while exhibiting the most brittle quality in any leader: the inability to hear the truth.
Stephen Covey, in The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, described a principle that applies as much to nations as to organisations: begin with the end in mind. Ask what kind of world, what kind of legacy, what kind of people you are shaping by the way you lead. The authoritarian answer, consciously or not is a world afraid enough to comply. A legacy of fear. People conditioned into silence.
That's not strength.
That's the most profound form of leadership failure there is.
The Lesson Underneath
What does any of this have to do with how you lead a team, a project, or a department?
Everything.
Because leadership, real leadership, operates the same way at every scale. The prime minister and the team leader are both making the same fundamental choice, over and over again: Am I using this position to serve, or to protect myself?
The authoritarian instinct isn't reserved for palaces. It shows up in the manager who takes credit for the team's work. In the leader who receives feedback as an attack. In the director who hoards information to maintain leverage. In anyone who confuses being in charge with being beyond challenge.
James Clear, in Atomic Habits, reminds us that identity is built through accumulated small actions. The person you become, the leader you become is the sum of the tiny choices you make each day about how to use whatever power you hold.
And you do hold power. Even if you don't have a title.
The question is always the same: power in service of what?
The Three Things That Separate Them
When you look at purpose driven leaders, flawed as they all are, versus self serving leaders, three things consistently separate them:
Accountability. Leaders who earn genuine trust own their mistakes in public. They don't scapegoat. They don't blame the previous administration, the global economy, or their opponents for every failure. They say we got this wrong, and here's what we're doing about it. Self serving leaders never admit error because error, in their world, is weakness to be exploited.
Clarity of purpose. The leaders people follow through hardship are the ones whose why is visible and consistent. They're not changing the story based on what plays well today. Their purpose anchors them, and it anchors the people around them.
Respect for people. Not the performance of respect, actual regard for the humans they're responsible to. This shows up in whether they listen. In whether they protect the vulnerable. In whether the small, daily interactions with ordinary people are treated as the substance of leadership, not an inconvenience between press conferences.
These aren't grand gestures. They're habitual behaviours. Patterns, repeated. Which means they're learnable, and they're losable.
How Purpose Driven Leaders Deal With Self Serving Leaders
This is perhaps the hardest question in leadership because the instinct of a purpose driven leader, someone oriented toward people, toward fairness, toward honest dialogue is to extend the same good faith they'd want extended to them.
That instinct is admirable. It's also, in the wrong circumstances, dangerous.
The difficult truth is that self serving leaders do not operate by the same rules. They read patience as weakness. They interpret restraint as an opening. They treat every concession as a down payment on the next demand. History has a word for the strategy of appeasing a leader who respects only power: a lesson, usually learned too late.
So how do you hold your values intact while dealing with someone who has none?
You stay clear, not naïve. Purpose driven leaders often want to believe that if they just communicate better, find the right channel, appeal to shared humanity, the other person will meet them there. Sometimes that's true. But clarity about what you will and won't accept, about what the consequences of certain actions will be is not aggression. It's respect for reality. Sinek's framework applies here too: your why doesn't change when you're dealing with a self serving actor. But your how must be ruthlessly honest about the landscape you're actually in.
You build coalitions, not just arguments. A single purpose driven leader opposing a self serving leader is isolated and vulnerable. A coalition of them is a different proposition entirely. The most effective responses to self serving behaviour whether in geopolitics or in organisations have almost always involved people choosing to stand together, clearly and visibly, around shared values. This isn't about ganging up. It's about the simple truth that self serving leaders rely on division. Unity, maintained with integrity, is their greatest adversary.
You protect your people first. A purpose driven leader facing a self serving leader never forgets who they are ultimately responsible for. The temptation, especially for principled leaders who believe in right and wrong is to make the confrontation about winning the argument, proving the point, or being seen to do the right thing. But the primary obligation is always to the people in your care. Sometimes that means taking a public stand. Sometimes it means a quiet, strategic withdrawal. The test isn't how it looks. It's whether your people are safer and stronger for the choice you made.
You refuse to become what you're fighting. This is the hardest one. Sustained exposure to self serving leadership creates pressure, on individuals, on institutions, on whole cultures to adopt its methods. To match ruthlessness with ruthlessness. To win by whatever means available, and sometimes, in the short term, it works. But leaders who abandon their values to defeat an opponent who has no values have not won. They've just moved the problem inside. Covey's begin with the end in mind demands you ask: what kind of leader, what kind of team, what kind of world do I want to exist on the other side of this? Let that question govern the methods you choose.
You maintain the relationship without endorsing the behaviour. At every scale from boardrooms to borders there are moments when you must deal with someone whose conduct you find indefensible while still needing to find a working relationship. The skill here is precision: you can be clear about what is unacceptable without making it personal, keep channels open without signalling approval, and engage without legitimising. It requires unusual self discipline. It also requires that you are never ambiguous about where you stand. Ambiguity, in these situations, is not diplomacy. It's a gift to the wrong person.
None of this is tidy. Purpose driven leaders dealing with self serving leaders rarely get clean victories or easy answers. What they can do, what they must do, is stay oriented. Keep their why visible. Protect the people who are counting on them. And refuse, quietly and consistently, to let someone else's behaviour become the standard by which they measure their own.
That refusal is itself an act of purpose driven leadership.
What This Means for You, Today
You may never lead a country. But you lead something, a team, a project, a household, a meeting room, a conversation.
The same forces at play in the world's most consequential leadership moments are at play in yours.
The instinct to protect your position at the expense of your people. The temptation to manage information rather than share it. The pull toward surrounding yourself with voices that confirm what you already believe.
The world right now is teaching a masterclass in what leadership looks like at its best and its worst. The class is free. The question is whether you're paying attention.
“It’s what you do. Not what you’re called.”



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