I Thought I Was Being Fair

Earlier in my leadership career, I made a mistake that taught me something important about fairness.

I thought I was doing the right thing.

And in some ways, I was.

But I was also missing something.

I wanted to give someone a fair chance

I had recently taken over responsibility for a team.

During the handover, I was told about some challenges involving one of the team members.

But I’ve always been uncomfortable forming opinions about people based on someone else’s experience.

I wanted to get to know this person myself.

Build a relationship.

Understand their perspective.

Give them the opportunity to show me who they were, rather than who someone else thought they were.

That felt fair.

And I still believe it was an important intention.

The problem wasn’t that I wanted to give someone a chance.

The problem was that I waited too long to address what wasn’t working.

While I was taking my time to form my own understanding, other people in the team were becoming frustrated.

They were living with the consequences of a situation I hadn’t addressed clearly enough.

And eventually, I had to acknowledge something uncomfortable.

In trying so hard to be fair to one person, I hadn’t been fair to everyone else.

What I would do differently today

I wouldn’t start by assuming the handover was accurate.

I still wouldn’t judge someone based on another person’s opinion.

But I would be transparent much earlier.

I’d probably say something like:

“I’ve heard there have been some challenges. I’d really like to understand how you see the situation, and how we can work together to improve it.”

No accusations.

No conclusions.

Just an honest conversation about something that needs attention.

Because giving someone a fair chance doesn’t mean pretending there isn’t a problem.

And waiting isn’t always kindness.

Sometimes, it’s just postponing a conversation that everyone would benefit from having.

Understanding behaviour doesn’t mean accepting its impact

There’s a Swedish word I love: snälltolka.

It means something like interpreting someone’s behaviour generously. Trying to assume good intent before jumping to conclusions.

It’s something I try to practise in my leadership.

When someone behaves in a way I don’t understand, my first instinct is usually curiosity.

What am I missing?

What might be going on for this person?

How would this situation look from their perspective?

But I’ve learned that understanding someone’s perspective and accepting their behaviour are two different things.

I’ve seen how quickly one person’s behaviour can affect an entire team.

A dismissive comment.

A colleague made to feel stupid.

A room that suddenly goes quiet.

And even if the intention wasn’t to hurt anyone, the impact is still there.

That’s when leadership requires more than understanding.

It requires action.

The conversations we owe each other

I once addressed a situation where a very experienced team member had responded to a colleague in a way that seemed to shut down the room.

Afterwards, I explained what I’d observed and how the conversation had changed.

The response was:

“How can you know that’s how people felt?”

And that was a fair question.

I couldn’t know exactly how everyone felt.

But I knew how I felt. And I’d noticed that people stopped contributing.

So I asked:

“How do you think your colleague might have felt when you said that?”

I wasn’t interested in proving that this person was wrong or bad.

I wanted to help them see the impact they might not have noticed.

Because difficult feedback doesn’t have to be an attack.

It can be an invitation to see something differently.

But it also needs to be clear.

Some behaviours simply aren’t okay, regardless of whether we intended harm.

Change has to come from both sides

I believe people can grow.

I’ve seen what happens when someone feels genuinely supported, receives honest feedback and becomes more aware of their impact.

But I’ve also learned that growth isn’t something I can create for someone else.

I can offer feedback.

Ask questions.

Explain the impact.

Create opportunities for change.

What I can’t do is take responsibility for someone else’s willingness to reflect.

And when behaviour continues to hurt the team, I need to take responsibility for that too.

Being empathetic towards one person shouldn’t mean asking everyone else to absorb the consequences.

Fairness is bigger than one relationship

I still want to be the kind of leader who gives people a chance.

Who listens before judging.

Who gets curious instead of making assumptions.

Who believes that people are more than their worst moments.

But I’ve become more aware that every leadership decision affects more than the person sitting in front of me.

Sometimes, the most uncomfortable conversation is also the fairest one.

Not because it guarantees that someone will change.

But because it gives them an honest opportunity to understand what’s happening.

And because it shows everyone else that their experience matters too.

I thought I was being fair.

Today, I understand that fairness has to include the people who aren’t in the conversation.