Power should be reserved for weightlifting and boats, and

Hear the voice of Herb Kelleher, founder of Southwest Airlines, who spoke with wit yet carried the weight of timeless wisdom: “Power should be reserved for weightlifting and boats, and leadership really involves responsibility.” Do not be deceived by the humor of his words, for behind them lies a truth both sharp and enduring. Many chase power as though it were the crown of greatness, yet Kelleher reminds us that true leadership is not about dominion or might—it is about responsibility. Power belongs to the muscles of the body or the engines of ships, but leadership belongs to the soul, which must carry the burdens of others with courage and humility.

For power alone corrupts if untethered. It blinds the one who grasps it, tempting them to rule for themselves rather than serve their people. But responsibility disciplines the leader, binding them to justice, compassion, and duty. The ancients knew this truth well. Marcus Aurelius, emperor of Rome, spoke often in his meditations not of conquest or authority, but of his duty to act with reason, fairness, and care for the common good. He wielded power, yes, but he measured his greatness by the weight of responsibility he bore. Thus do Kelleher’s words echo across centuries: leadership is not the art of ruling, but of serving.

Consider George Washington at the close of the American Revolution. He held unmatched power—commander of victorious armies, adored by his men, trusted by his people. Many expected he would crown himself king, for history had shown again and again that men, when given power, seize thrones. Yet Washington laid it down. He returned to his farm, showing that his leadership was not about domination but about responsibility to the ideals of liberty. Later, as president, he again wielded authority sparingly, shaping not a monarchy but a republic. His legacy endures not because he held power, but because he restrained it, and bore the responsibility of guiding a fragile nation.

So too in Kelleher’s own life. He built not just an airline but a culture, one where employees felt valued, where humor was as important as efficiency, and where service to customers outweighed the pursuit of prestige. He knew that the responsibility of leadership was to lift others, not to exalt oneself. His success came not from commanding with power, but from creating trust, loyalty, and joy in those he led. This is the living example of his wisdom: that true leaders do not stand above their people—they stand with them.

The meaning of Kelleher’s words is therefore twofold. First, that power is not the essence of leadership; it is a distraction, a temptation, even a danger. Second, that the true test of leadership lies in the willingness to accept responsibility—to carry the burdens of others, to make hard choices with humility, to give credit away and accept blame with grace. Where power divides, responsibility unites. Where power inflates the ego, responsibility grounds the soul.

The lesson for us is clear: seek not power for its own sake. Do not hunger for titles or dominion, for these are empty if unaccompanied by responsibility. Instead, if you are called to lead, remember that your task is not to lift yourself higher, but to lift others with you. To lead is to serve, to bear, to sacrifice, to guide—not to command for pride, but to act for the good of those entrusted to you.

Practical action flows from this wisdom: if you hold authority, wield it gently. Ask not, “What can I gain?” but “What do I owe?” If you are led, seek out those whose actions reveal responsibility, not those who boast of power. In your own life—whether in family, work, or community—embrace responsibility, for in doing so you practice the heart of leadership.

So remember always Kelleher’s playful yet profound charge: power belongs to weightlifting and boats; leadership belongs to responsibility. For when you shoulder the burdens of others with humility and courage, you will discover the true strength that outlives all thrones and crowns—the strength of a leader remembered not for power, but for service.