You learn far more from negative leadership than from positive

Hear, O children of wisdom and endurance, the words of Norman Schwarzkopf, the soldier who carried the weight of command through the storms of war: “You learn far more from negative leadership than from positive leadership. Because you learn how not to do it. And, therefore, you learn how to do it.” These words strike like iron against stone, for they reveal a paradox hidden in the art of leadership: that failure, cruelty, arrogance, and folly in those above us can, if we have eyes to see, become our greatest teachers.

What is negative leadership? It is leadership that wounds rather than heals, that burdens rather than uplifts, that seeks control instead of trust. It is the leader who commands without compassion, who demands without example, who clings to pride while ignoring truth. Such leadership is painful to endure, and its shadow can crush spirits. Yet even in its harshness, there lies a lesson: by watching what destroys trust, you learn how to build it; by seeing what breaks men, you learn how to strengthen them; by living under what is wrong, you learn to hunger for what is right.

And what of positive leadership? It inspires, uplifts, and guides with clarity and compassion. It is noble to follow, but in its presence, the path is clear and easy. It does not challenge the follower to think deeply about the essence of leadership, for all is provided. But negative leadership, though painful, forces the mind and heart to awaken. It cries out, “This is not the way!” and in that rejection, the soul is sharpened, discovering the true path through contrast.

Consider the tragedy of Napoleon’s final years. He was a man of brilliance, but when his leadership turned to arrogance, when he placed ambition above prudence, he led his armies into ruin in the frozen wastes of Russia. Those who followed him learned not only from his triumphs, but from his failures—that unchecked pride, disregard for limits, and blind hunger for glory bring only disaster. In the ashes of his defeat lay the lesson of restraint, humility, and the cost of ignoring reality.

Or think of the American Revolution, when the colonies groaned under the rule of a distant king who imposed burdens without listening to his people. The negative leadership of George III, who ignored counsel and pressed tyranny upon his subjects, taught the colonists the value of representation, of liberty, and of government accountable to the governed. Out of the pain of misrule was born a new vision of democracy, proving Schwarzkopf’s words true: through the failure of leadership, the people learned how to do it better.

The meaning of this teaching, O listeners, is this: every wound can carry wisdom, every shadow can reveal light. If you suffer under negative leadership, do not let it embitter you. Let it instruct you. Ask yourself: What is it in this failure that I must never repeat? What pain can I transform into wisdom? For those who only curse their oppressors remain chained to them, but those who learn from them rise above, carrying forward the opposite virtues.

The lesson for you is clear: do not despise the failures of others, nor your own. Look upon them as harsh but worthy teachers. From cruelty, learn compassion. From arrogance, learn humility. From indecision, learn clarity. From oppression, learn justice. Every negative example shows you how not to walk, and therefore, by contrast, reveals how you should walk.

Therefore, practice this: when you witness poor leadership—in your workplace, your community, or even in yourself—pause to reflect on what it reveals. Let no wasted pain pass without the treasure of a lesson. For as Schwarzkopf has said, you learn far more from negative leadership than from positive leadership. Embrace the fire of these hard lessons, and forge from them the steel of wisdom. Then, when your time comes to lead, you will not repeat the errors of the past, but will stand as an example of strength, clarity, and justice.