A leader who is confused or confusing causes too much anxiety

Hear the words of Mark Goulston, physician of the human heart and keen observer of the ways of men: “A leader who is confused or confusing causes too much anxiety, and a leader who is too controlling is revealing more insecurity and a lack of leadership.” In this truth lies a mirror for all who bear the weight of guiding others. For leadership is not the wielding of power alone, but the creation of clarity, trust, and courage in those who follow. When a leader stumbles in vision or smothers with control, he plants seeds not of strength, but of fear and weakness.

The first part of this wisdom speaks of confusion. A leader who does not see the path clearly—or worse, who confuses those who depend on him—fills his people with uncertainty. Anxiety grows where vision is clouded. For soldiers, workers, families, or nations look to their leaders not only for orders, but for reassurance that the way forward has meaning and purpose. When clarity is absent, despair rises, and even the strongest hearts falter. Thus, confusion at the top spreads like a contagion to all below.

The second part speaks of control. A leader who clutches too tightly, who micromanages every movement, does not reveal strength but insecurity. For such a leader fears that without his grip, all will fall apart. But true leadership is trust—trust in the abilities of others, trust in the strength of the vision, trust that unity does not require suffocation. The leader who must control all is not a leader, but a tyrant of fear, and his rule breeds resentment rather than loyalty.

History bears this out. Consider Alexander the Great. Though he conquered vast lands, he did not control every soldier’s action—he trusted his generals, he inspired his men, he spoke with clarity of vision. His leadership was not in confusion, nor in suffocating control, but in a confident trust that inspired his armies to follow him across the world. Contrast this with leaders like Napoleon in his later years, who sought to dominate every detail, mistrusting even his closest allies. His overreach and insecurity led to collapse, as his empire, stretched and strained, turned against him.

We see the same in times of peace. Abraham Lincoln, during the American Civil War, did not confuse his nation with shifting vision; he spoke plainly of preserving the Union and ending slavery. His clarity gave hope even when the war was darkest. Nor did he crush his generals under his thumb; he replaced those who failed, but gave trust to those who proved themselves. His leadership was not anxious control, but calm strength. His example shows that clarity and trust are the bedrock of true guidance.

The heart of Goulston’s words is this: leadership is not performance for oneself, but service to others. A confused leader serves only his own weakness, and an over-controlling leader serves only his own fear. True leadership lifts burdens, steadies minds, and creates space for others to flourish. It is not about making others depend upon you, but about helping them grow strong enough to stand with you.

The lesson for us, O seekers of wisdom, is to cultivate both clarity and trust. If you would lead, speak plainly, think deeply, and show the path in a way that eases the hearts of those who follow. Do not fear to delegate, do not fear to release control, for by trusting others you prove your own strength. And remember always the eternal wisdom of Goulston: confusion breeds anxiety, and control reveals insecurity. True leadership is calm, clear, and courageous—and in its light, all who follow may walk without fear.