Holding firm on a principle is admirable. Holding firm on a dogma is dangerous.
There is a line as thin as silk that separates staying true to a principle
from clinging to a dogma.
No one teaches you that.
They celebrate you for being unyielding.
For holding on.
For refusing to back down.
But they forget to tell you that the same force that makes you win
can also destroy you.
Because a principle, when it hardens, becomes a prison.
I’ve seen that trap close dozens of times.
In that company, in 2022, the trap closed.
Rarely as violently as in this scientific SME I supported.
The CEO, brilliant and passionate, had put in place a perfect recruitment process.
He was proud of it.
He even bragged about it on stage as proof of his high standards.
Six steps, for everyone.
1. HR interview
2. Manager interview 1
3. Manager interview 2
4. Manager interview 3
5. Manager interview 4
6. The CEO himself
Whether you were a 140K data scientist or a minimum-wage warehouse worker, same tunnel.
At first, no one dared challenge it.
He kept repeating:
“This is how we guarantee quality.”
So everyone kept their heads down.
But the machine jammed.
HR started finding shortcuts.
Managers shut down.
Candidates rolled their eyes.
One day, the recruiter spoke to me.
No tears,
just that broken voice of dignity wearing thin.
She told me:
“Yesterday I saw a warehouse worker quit after the third interview.
He told me: ‘I’m not an intellectual.
Your process showed me I’m not good enough.’”
She sighed:
“That’s wrong.
He was perfect for the job.
She looked down.
But we lost him.”
She explained how managers would spot
who the CEO liked,
and align their opinion.
As if they were no longer there to assess,
just to confirm.
“I don’t feel like HR anymore.
I feel like a secretary.”
And I watched her say that without flinching, like describing a slow-motion accident.
I thought about a friend who once swore
she would never be as strict as her father,
who was harsh and cold.
So she let everything slide.
No structure,
no solid ground.
Her son, meanwhile,
needed rules.
Whenever she enforced one,
he stood taller,
he felt safer.
But she couldn’t.
She projected her own fear.
And left him drifting.
Leadership is also this:
not projecting your ghosts onto the stage.
Because flexibility is the only form of intelligence
that has ever allowed us to survive.
I once ran an Argentine tango workshop for leaders.
Not to teach them how to dance,
but how to feel.
In tango,
you do not advance alone,
each step is negotiated, even in the moment.
If you pull, you break the dance.
If you force, you lose the connection.
A leader is exactly that.
Someone who adjusts their step
to the team’s rhythm.
With this CEO,
I made a deal:
“Keep your final validation for the strategic profiles.
Let the others move forward.”
He agreed.
But he knew.
He knew he was trapped
by his own image,
by the words he had shouted too loud.
And that is often the most expensive part.
In the weeks that followed,
nicknames spread:
“the CEO’s obstacle course.”
Awkward smiles,
heavy looks.
A leader who insists on winning every little battle
always ends up losing the real war:
the war of alignment.
And that is the price of your stubbornness.
Because true victory
is to aim every collective breath
at what really matters.
If you refuse to improvise,
you will end up burying
what you meant to save.
Silent Guest
A mirror on what you feel… but no one dares to say.
