They say if the only tool you have is a hammer, then everything starts to look like a nail. Well, sometimes that can be a good thing. After studying and learning about leadership for almost 50 years, I see most of life through that lens. And I often find wonderful leadership insights in some of the most surprising places. The articles below are a few examples of classic non-leadership books that are brimming with leadership wisdom.
The Man Who Planted Trees ~ Jean Giono
I recently revisited Jean Giono’s The Man Who Planted Trees, and I can’t stop thinking about what this deceptively simple story reveals about effective leadership in our results-obsessed world. If you haven’t read it, here’s the setup: Elzéard Bouffier is a middle-aged shepherd who spends three decades single-handedly reforesting a barren valley in the French Alps. No fanfare, no recognition, no grand announcements. Just one man, planting 100 carefully chosen acorns every single day, transforming a desolate landscape into a thriving forest ecosystem that eventually supports over 10,000 people – none of whom ever know they owe their prosperity to his quiet work.
The Big Idea
Giono’s central message is simple: one person, working with patience, determination, and zero need for credit, can accomplish truly transformative work. Real generosity takes a long-term view without expecting anything in return, and lasting change comes from consistent, unglamorous effort rather than flashy initiatives or public recognition. That got me thinking about how we approach leadership today.
Play the long game, even when no one’s watching the scoreboard
Bouffier planted trees knowing he might never see the full forest. How many of us are willing to champion initiatives whose ROI won’t materialise for years? In an era of quarterly earnings calls and annual performance reviews, the real leadership move is protecting strategic investments in talent development, infrastructure, and cultural transformation – even when they don’t show immediate returns. The best leaders I’ve worked with measure success not by what happened during their tenure, but by what continued to thrive after they left.
Be relentless about the mission, flexible about the methods
Here’s what I love: Bouffier planted 100 trees every single day, regardless of external circumstances. When sheep ate his young trees, he didn’t quit – he switched from shepherding to beekeeping and kept planting.
That’s adaptive leadership: unwavering commitment to the goal, consistent daily action, total openness to adjusting tactics when you hit obstacles. Weekly one-on-ones, monthly reviews, annual planning – these rhythms matter. But if a specific initiative fails? Learn, adapt, and stay focused on where you’re trying to go.
Check your ego at the door
Authorities never even knew Bouffier existed. They thought the forest was a natural phenomenon. Imagine that. Imagine building something so well that it looks like it just happened.
The most impactful leaders I know celebrate team wins without claiming credit, build systems that outlast their tenure, and measure success by organisational health rather than personal accolades. This isn’t just admirable – it’s profoundly strategic. Change that’s embedded in culture and process is far more durable than change dependent on any individual’s continued presence.
Model the behaviour you want to see
Bouffier never preached or instructed. He simply did the work, and eventually his example inspired others. There’s something powerful about “contagious stewardship” – the kind of influence that spreads organically through observation rather than through policy directives. Show up prepared. Treat everyone with respect. Stay calm in crises. Do the unsexy work. People notice, and they follow.
The Question That Stays With Me
As Bouffier’s story contrasts one man’s patient creation against the backdrop of two devastating world wars, I keep asking myself: What am I building that will outlast the noise? What seeds am I planting today that might grow into something meaningful long after I’ve moved on? In a professional world that often feels like it’s sprinting toward the next quarter, the next promotion, the next exit, maybe the most radical thing we can do is think like a shepherd with a bag of acorns and thirty years of patience. What are you planting today?
To buy The Man Who Planted Trees, go HERE
The Inner Game of Tennis ~ W. Timothy Gallwey
First published in 1974, Timothy Gallwey’s classic The Inner Game of Tennis is, on the surface, a book about sport. Underneath, it is one of the most practical leadership books you’ll ever read. Gallwey’s core insight is that in any performance there are two games being played at once: the outer game (targets, tactics, the opponent, the score) and the inner game (self‑talk, attention, tension, confidence). Our results depend less on what we know to do and more on how much our own interference gets in the way while we do it. For leaders and managers, that’s an uncomfortable but liberating idea: performance equals potential minus interference. Our real job is not only to optimise strategy and structure, but to reduce interference in ourselves and our teams.
From tennis court to boardroom
Gallwey talks about two selves:
- Self 1 – the loud inner commentator: judging, worrying, controlling, criticising
- Self 2 – the “doer”: your accumulated experience, intuition and skill
Most of us lead from Self 1. We overthink, over‑control and over‑talk – and then wonder why our best judgment deserts us in the moments that matter. We do a similar thing with our teams: we drown people in instructions, dashboards and “shoulds”, then get frustrated when they freeze, hesitate or play it safe. We inadvertently create interference. The shift Gallwey proposes is simple but profound:
- Self 1’s role: set clear intentions and observe
- Self 2’s role: execute and learn
In leadership terms, that means less “trying to be the perfect leader” and more clear direction, calm presence and curious attention.
Inner game 1: Non‑judgmental awareness
On the tennis court, Gallwey asks players to stop calling their shots “good” or “bad” and instead simply notice what happened: where the ball landed, how it felt, what the body did. That neutral awareness allows natural adjustment. Leaders can do the same. Instead of:
- “That presentation was a disaster.”
- “I completely failed that team meeting.”
- “My team just isn’t high‑performing.”
Try describing reality without verdicts:
- “I rushed the opening and skipped context; questions increased immediately.”
- “Three people checked out after we changed the priorities list.”
- “We missed the last two deadlines and we didn’t talk openly about why.”
Non‑judgmental doesn’t mean “soft” – it means accurate. Once the drama drops, learning becomes possible. Try this: After any important meeting, spend five minutes on three prompts:
- What exactly happened? (Just the observable facts.)
- Where did things move forward or stall?
- What is one thing I’ll experiment with next time?
You’re training yourself to lead from data, not from self‑criticism. Over time, you model this for your team, too.
Inner game 2: Quieting the inner commentator
Gallwey noticed that players hit better shots when they stopped trying so hard to control every aspect of their technique and instead focused their attention on something simple, like watching the seams of the ball. Leaders can apply the same move in high‑stakes situations. Think about:
- A board presentation
- A tough performance conversation
- A crisis call with a key customer
In those moments, Self 1 floods you with noise: “Don’t mess this up. Say something smart. They’re not buying this. You’re losing them.” The more you engage that chatter, the more your presence, listening and judgment degrade. Try this: Before your next high‑stakes moment:
- Choose a single inner cue, such as “listen fully”, “slow down” or “one breath at a time”.
- As you begin, place all your attention on that cue and on one physical anchor (your feet on the floor, the sensation of breathing, a face in the room).
- Any time you notice anxious self‑talk, don’t argue with it. Silently label it (“worry”, “image management”) and come back to your cue.
You are not trying to eliminate thoughts; you are giving your mind a small, useful job so your deeper competence can come through. That is the leadership equivalent of “letting the stroke happen”.
Inner game 3: Coaching, not controlling
Gallwey is often credited as one of the pioneers of modern coaching because of a simple move: he stopped telling players what to do and started asking questions that improved their awareness. Instead of “Keep your racket up” he would ask, “Where is your racket just before you swing?” Once a player truly noticed, change emerged with far less effort. Managers can adopt exactly this stance. In a typical 1:1, our instinct is to:
- Diagnose quickly
- Provide advice
- Set an action plan
That’s outer‑game management. Useful, but limited. Inner‑game leadership sounds more like:
- “When this goes well for you, what are you doing differently?”
- “What happens inside you just before it starts to go off track?”
- “What’s one small thing you’d like to experiment with between now and next week?”
You’re helping people see their own patterns and trust their own Self 2. Try this: In your next 1:1:
- Spend the first 10 minutes only asking open questions and reflecting back what you hear.
- Hold off on advice until they have named their own insights and possible options.
- Finish by asking: “What will you actually commit to trying before we next talk?”
You’ll notice more ownership, more creativity and fewer “learned helplessness” conversations.
Inner game 4: Redefining competition and failure
On court, Gallwey reframes competition: your opponent is not an enemy but a partner in your development. Their strengths and pressure reveal your weaknesses and blind spots, helping you grow. Leadership offers constant “opponents”:
- Aggressive competitors
- Tough stakeholders
- Stretch targets
- Market shocks
If you treat every challenge as a verdict on your worth, your leadership narrows and becomes risk‑averse. If you treat it as an opportunity to see your interference more clearly, everything changes. Instead of:
- “The market made us look bad.”
- “That project failure proves we can’t handle complexity.”
You might ask:
- “What did this pressure expose about how we make decisions, escalate risk, or speak truth to each other?”
- “What aspect of our inner game – fear of conflict, ego, avoidance – was most visible here?”
Try this: After your next setback, run a team debrief with two columns on a whiteboard:
- Potential – What strengths and assets did we have going in?
- Interference – What got in our way (internally and externally)?
Pick one interference to work on as a deliberate practice for the next quarter (for example: surfacing bad news earlier, pushing back on unrealistic scope, or inviting dissent in key meetings). You are now coaching the organisation’s inner game, not just adjusting the Gantt chart.
Putting it together: Your weekly inner game routine
Here are some simple ways to start embedding all of this:
- Daily (3 minutes): quick inner check‑in – “What am I thinking? What am I feeling? What’s my intention for how I want to show up today?”
- Key moments: go in with one focus cue (“listen fully”, “be clear and kind”, “slow down”) and a physical anchor.
- After big meetings: run a short, non‑judgmental debrief (facts, impact, one learning, one experiment).
- Weekly: run at least one 1:1 primarily as a coaching conversation, not a status update or advice session.
None of this requires new systems or tools; it simply requires a different way of paying attention.
If you’ve read The Inner Game of Tennis, revisit it with your leadership hat on and notice where your own Self 1 is getting in the way. If you haven’t, pick one idea from this article – daily inner check‑ins, a simple focus cue, or coaching‑style 1:1s – and try it for two weeks. Then ask yourself, and your team: What changed when we paid more attention to our inner game?
To buy The Inner Game of Tennis, go HERE