In Praise of Patience

Why are some leaders just better at leading than others? Both research and lived experience tell us the “secret sauce” may be patience. Not exactly the kind of patience that means the ability to endure hardship and unfairness (“that woman has the patience of a saint!”), but something akin to being a great balancer. Remember the circus performers who stacked chairs and tables at crazy angles then climbed patiently to the top of the pile without losing their balance? Kind of like that.

Patience is relatively understudied, yet when economists and others do examine it they find that patient people make the best decisions. These are the folks able to balance risks, navigate time challenges, and resist buckling under to various pressures. Since the 1510s, we’ve understood the connotation of patience as “firm, unyielding, hard…constancy in labor or exertion” (etymonline.com). It’s exactly this kind of patience fueling well-led work and great decision-making.

Do you ever wonder if we are losing our ability to value patience at work and in our personal lives? Are we placing more value on speed than balance? How many times last week did a person or chatbot thank you for your “patience?” Whether we must wait just a few seconds or for several minutes for service, we can expect an oozing expression of gratitude to follow. It’s never been enjoyable to have to wait, but when did it become wrong to have to wait, as if a mistake had been made?

As our life experiences deepen over time, we may begin to notice growth, to perceive ourselves changing. Life and work experiences often occur unevenly, forcing us to “bide our time” till growth or change becomes detectable. That’s normal, real change is slow. People do occasionally change quickly (especially in the face of trauma or life-and-death necessity). A writer I have loved since my twenties, Etty Hillesum, whose wartime diaries were published under the title An Interrupted Life, grew 50 years’ worth of pragmatic wisdom in the span of two years (1941-43). Etty understood she had little time, so her work and life unfolded at a warp speed. For me and you, we probably have a longer timeline and a greater opportunity to be patient. So, why can’t we wait? The benefits of delayed gratification are well-grounded in science. You build smarts by patiently waiting for a payoff. In both physical and psychological terms, you can only grow slowly. Adaptation is a deliberate experience with plenty of waiting mixed-in.

The ability to wait, to endure, to be patient, is a kind of overarching quality in life. It affects many aspects of our experience including our work and professional development. Instead of “climbing the ladder” (an image reeking of sweat and fast-paced competitiveness), we might let ourselves unfold. Rather than pursuing an ever-expanding checklist of new skills and credentials, we might explore our interior landscape to find the wells of deep talent, skill, and wisdom. This takes time and a tolerance for patience— and for the uncertainties of waiting. What E.L. Doctorow memorably advises about the craft of writing applies to the craft of patiently growing into our professional selves, too: “Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” (The Paris Review Interviews, 2nd Series)

Leadership requires patience, or it devolves into cheap authoritarianism. I’ve worked for leaders like that. I know how a “just get it done now” attitude creates a version of Flatland denaturing both the organizational mission and people’s motivation to create and collaborate. Whether you’re leading a team, a unit, a family, a division, a community project, or an organization, the importance of keeping those chairs and tables balanced is everything. As Doctorow reminds us, you’ll reach the destination regardless of speed and visibility; successful pacing is simply a function of balance.

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Future Regret: Deciding Not to Grow