Paying attention isn’t passive. It is how we make contact with reality before rushing to interpretation, advice, correction, or action. It’s one of the first acts of leadership.

AI has all but stopped being only an individual productivity tool. It’s starting to feel like this is how we work.

It’s not perfect. Not complete. But nonetheless, visible.

AI can generate alternative courses of action. It can make strong recommendations. It can accelerate the work of the staff and sharpen the options in front of the commander.

But the choice is still not in the data.

The choice is in what the leader brings to it: mindset, skilled leadership knowledge, personal sensibilities, and the willingness to live with the consequences.

Getting people to use something new feels like the goal—except that it isn’t.

It’s just the beginning because early adoption often looks similar everywhere. That’s especially true with AI, where early use can look productive although it’s not connected to, or integrated into, actual work flows.

There's a moment when something shifts from being encouraged to being expected.

In my company, the early signal around AI was unmistakable — but still informal. Our CEO invested real time in it. Sitting with people. Helping them get set up. Running an all-hands that left no ambiguity: this matters here.

That alone moved the needle. But then something changed the nature of the conversation entirely.

Most new capabilities arrive in organizations the same way.

They get introduced. Positioned as useful. Offered with the kind of encouragement that sounds supportive but leaves the real question unanswered: does this actually matter here?

“Take a look when you can” is not a signal. It’s an invitation to deprioritize.

There was a period in my work where leadership was defined almost entirely by authority.

The expectations were clear: follow directions, don’t question, and get the job done. On the surface, things appeared to function. Tasks were completed, policies were enforced, and there was a sense of order.

But underneath, something very different was happening.

Authority is efficient. That’s part of the problem.

Yes, it makes things clear, removes obstacles, and enables decisions. But as a substitute for the real work of leadership, most of the time it falls short.

The biggest learning, though, was this: the better I knew my team members, the better I could interpret their actions. Nothing substitutes for really getting to know the people you work with and around.

And those interpretations quietly shape how we show up.

We humans are meaning-making creatures. We don’t just see—we interpret. We don’t just hear—we conclude.

And many times, we do these things quickly.

Small things get us started: a comment in a meeting, a response that didn’t come as quickly as we expected, a tone of voice, a look, or a behavior we didn’t expect.

Having spent nearly sixteen years in the senior living industry, serving in leadership roles across both local and national organizations, I can say with confidence that a senior living community is, in many ways, like a small city—full of moving parts.

You’ll recognize the image above. It’s not only our CCLA logo mark.
It’s also a graphic representation of the definition of leadership we use.

That definition comes from Elliott Jaques and Stephen D. Clement:

Leadership is the process of getting other people
to move along together with you, and each other,
with competence and full commitment to achieve a goal.

I’m SMDH constantly these days. And if you’re not “shaking your damn head,” you must have found a way to tune out the global news. Where is decorum? Where is decency? Where is the reassuring voice of democratic representative authority? 

Many of us would characterize what we experience as Command and Control as ineffective leadership.

We might even attribute it to bad intent, but that’s rarely the case.
Most times, these approaches to leading others begin with pressure.

Field Note:
Where have you experienced leadership up close—
in the moments where something was quietly passed on?

Leadership, practiced as a craft, does something different.

It creates clarity without needing chaos.
It generates trust without relying on force.
It holds up in ordinary conditions—not just extraordinary ones.

No doubt Sam and Earl would recognize CCLA’s definition of leadership: the process of getting people to move along together with you—and each other—with competence and full commitment to achieve a goal.

Please take a look at our brand mark above for a moment.

Most people comment that it’s colorful, seems to move from left to right, and feels “directional.” We agree.

But the mark is much more than the decorative part of our logo. It’s a visual expression of how we understand leadership.

It appears on the cover of our book Leadership Actually, on our business cards, and on most of our correspondence.

Bonfire Burrito has become something different.

People come for more than the food. They come for the experience—an experience shaped by people who are encouraged to contribute, to try something, to add something of their own.