The Story-Driven Leader Era

In my early 30s, I lived in Seattle, had a good job, a great social circle of friends, and owned a condo. Generally, things were excellent. But I was restless and really wanted to be back in the mountains. (You can read the full, not very long story here.) The short version is this: My opportunity soon came with a job offer at a ski resort in the mountain town of Sandpoint, Idaho, population (at the time) 7,000. Needless to say, it was a big change. I arrived in mid-November, a mere two weeks before ski season would open, and the senior leadership team was looking forward to my presenting the marketing plan for the year as soon as I arrived. No pressure. 

Day one, I walked into my office, past the ski rack on my wall, YES I HAD A SKI RACK IN MY OFFICE! And sat down staring at the blinking light on my desk phone. First, I had to figure out how to get my voice messages. I didn’t even know who to ask. Once I solved that problem, I rang in and was informed I had 23 new voicemails. No one had been checking the phone before I arrived. I had to figure out where to find a legal pad. I found the office supply closet. Grabbed a pad and a pen and listened through. I reviewed the list I had written of those 23 voicemails and didn’t know how to handle a single one. I didn’t know people in my community, I didn’t have trusted vendors I could turn to. I didn’t know my colleagues yet, and who handled what.

So, I crumbled up that piece of paper and tossed it out. If their need was urgent, they can call again. My schedule for the day was packed with meetings, and I quickly assessed the landscape of my new position, then detailed what I needed to work on in the next few weeks. I had a lot to get done. 

Soon, the requests and needs overwhelmed me, further exacerbated by the fact I was in a new community, so I didn’t have my network. Everything took longer. I had a season pass sale, holiday bookings for our hotels, ski lesson packages to worry about, and snow reporters to hire, then someone would walk into my office, frustrated the recent race results weren’t posted on the website. Needless to say, there simply wasn’t enough time in the day, and I was stressed out. 

As I walked from one office to another across the resort village, I was always rushed and behind schedule, never having time to stop and say hi to colleagues. What they saw, understandably: Someone who had just moved here from the city and was too important to stop and talk; who didn’t get what it means to live here in Idaho now. What it also looked like, someone (me) who wasn’t giving their program priority because I was on someone else’s.

Here's the irony: I was focused on results over relationships. By sacrificing the very relationships I needed to achieve my goals, I was undermining my ability to deliver the outcomes I was chasing. Results-driven leadership is a paradox—the more you prioritize results over people, the fewer results you actually get.

Real results require relationships, collaboration, and trust. 

For decades, being "results-driven" has been a badge of honor. The problem? Results-driven leaders hit a ceiling. Despite their expertise, they get overlooked for promotions, struggle with team retention, and watch less qualified competitors win because they can't inspire emotional buy-in. In an AI world where technical skills are commoditized, the inability to connect isn't just limiting—it's career-ending.

In the story-led leader era, the most “results-oriented” leaders get that meaningful relationships improve visibility, engagement, and loyalty because we bring people into a shared narrative, rather than bulldoze toward outcomes. The stories we tell each other are the vehicle to connection. I learned that the hard way, and now I know. 

Take care out there.