I start with the premise that the function of leadership is to

Host: The morning light filtered through the tall glass windows of the conference hall, casting long lines of gold across the floor. Dust motes floated in the air, slow and graceful, like the remnants of old ambitions still clinging to the room. The echo of last night’s meeting still lingered — applause, argument, and exhaustion — all folded into this quiet dawn.

At the center, a whiteboard stood cluttered with scribbles: words like vision, initiative, impact — and underlined twice, leadership.

Jack leaned against the table, his jacket off, tie loosened, eyes distant as if he were measuring himself against something he couldn’t quite name. Across from him, Jeeny sat, her hands around a cup of black coffee, her eyes sharp, watchful, but kind — the way a mentor looks at a man trying to untangle himself from the myth of his own importance.

Jeeny: softly “Ralph Nader said, ‘I start with the premise that the function of leadership is to produce more leaders, not more followers.’”

She sipped her coffee, her voice calm but firm, like she was reading truth aloud. “Tell me, Jack — are you building leaders in that team of yours… or just followers who echo your will?”

Jack: lets out a slow exhale, weary smile “You make it sound so simple. But you know what happens when you give people power, Jeeny? They start to use it — and not always well. Leadership looks beautiful on paper, but in practice, it’s chaos. Sometimes it’s safer if people just follow direction.”

Jeeny: leans forward, eyes glinting “Safer for who? For them, or for you?”

Jack: pauses, looks away “Maybe for both.”

Jeeny: shakes her head “No, Jack. Just for you. You’re afraid of losing control. That’s what happens to most leaders — they confuse authority with stability. You’re not supposed to keep control. You’re supposed to create courage — in others.”

Host: A gust of wind brushed against the windows, shaking the glass, the light shifting across their faces — Jack’s eyes in shadow, Jeeny’s steady and bright.

Jack: after a moment, voice low “I’ve seen what happens when you give too much freedom. People turn on each other. Everyone thinks they can lead, but not everyone can carry it. Leadership isn’t a gift — it’s a burden.”

Jeeny: nods slowly “True. But it’s also the only way to make something bigger than yourself. You don’t lose control when you create leaders — you multiply purpose. That’s the difference. A follower obeys; a leader understands.”

Jack: frowns, tapping the whiteboard with his finger “Understanding doesn’t always produce results. Sometimes people need direction, not democracy. I’ve led long enough to know — if you give everyone a voice, you end up with noise.”

Jeeny: leans back, smiling faintly “Then maybe the problem isn’t the voices, Jack. Maybe it’s that you’re afraid to listen.”

Host: The room stilled, her words slicing through the quiet like a truth too sharp to ignore. Outside, the city began to wake — horns, footsteps, the rumble of buses. The world moved on, but in that moment, time seemed to pause around them.

Jack: after a long silence, voice quieter “You think leadership’s about letting go, don’t you? About stepping back so others can step up.”

Jeeny: nods, her eyes softening “Exactly. The best leaders disappear when their work is done. They leave behind leaders, not echoes. The moment your followers can stand without you, that’s when you’ve led well.”

Jack: half-smile, but tinged with pain “You make it sound noble. But you know what that really means? It means becoming irrelevant.”

Jeeny: leans closer, her voice low and certain “No. It means becoming immortal.”

Host: The sunlight shifted, pouring into the room, washing away the fatigue of the night before. The whiteboard glowed, its words suddenly clearer. Leadership, growth, trust. And now, beneath them, Jeeny picked up a marker and wrote:

Leaders create leaders — not dependents.

Jack watched, the marker squeaking softly against the board, the words forming with a kind of finality. He crossed his arms, half-smiling, half-surrendering.

Jack: “You know, I used to believe that leadership meant being the smartest person in the room — the one with all the answers.”

Jeeny: smiles gently “And now?”

Jack: pauses, then softly “Now I think it’s about being the one who asks the right questions — and trusts others to find their own answers.”

Jeeny: nods, proud “That’s the beginning of real leadership, Jack. You’re not supposed to build a legacy of obedience — you’re supposed to build a lineage of independence.”

Host: A bird landed on the windowsill, pecking lightly at the glass, the sound delicate, like affirmation from the world outside. The air in the room felt different now — lighter, honest, unburdened.

Jack: quietly, almost to himself “Maybe I’ve spent too long trying to make people follow me, instead of helping them find their own way forward.”

Jeeny: softly “Then it’s time to start again. Leadership isn’t what you take from others — it’s what you awaken in them.”

Jack: smiling faintly “And that’s why it’s so rare.”

Jeeny: meets his gaze “No. It’s not rare. It’s just selfless. And that’s what makes it hard.”

Host: The light flooded the room fully now, bathing them in a kind of moral sunrise. The whiteboard gleamed behind them, the words alive — the kind that don’t fade, but follow you.

Jack picked up his jacket, paused, and looked back one last time — at the table, the notes, the coffee cups, the mess of plans. Then he smiled, quietly, certainly, as if a new understanding had finally settled into his bones.

Jack: turning to Jeeny “You know, I think I finally get it. The measure of leadership isn’t how many people listen to you — it’s how many start speaking because of you.”

Jeeny: smiling “Exactly. The goal isn’t to be followed, Jack — it’s to be replaced by people who no longer need you.”

Host: The two of them stood in that morning light, the city alive again beyond the glass, the echo of Nader’s words woven through the air —

that the function of leadership is not command,
but creation;
not ownership,
but empowerment;
not to make followers,
but to multiply voices that can carry truth forward.

And as Jack and Jeeny walked out of the room, the sunlight spilled after them, like a blessing — a new beginning, born not from dominance, but from the courage to share the crown.