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The Sovereign Leader (Part 5): When Vulnerability Builds Trust

  • Writer: Cory McGowan
    Cory McGowan
  • 2 days ago
  • 4 min read
Two hikers with backpacks wade across a river beneath a cascading waterfall. They are using a rope for balance. The atmosphere is misty.

This is Part 5 of a six-part series inspired by my work with a senior executive in a global finance organization. He made six bold internal moves — the kind of shifts that only happen when a leader is willing to look honestly at themselves.


Over the past four articles, I’ve been sharing the journey of a senior executive I worked with.


A pattern became clear. He wasn’t lacking capability. He was relying on external signals — expectations, titles, and credentials — to guide how he led. And one by one, that began to shift. He started leading from his own North Star. He redefined success around trust and impact. He began trusting his inner compass. And he moved from controlling the work to modeling the behavior he wanted to see in his team.


Each of these shifts changed how he led. The next one changed how he showed up.


At one point in our final conversation, he shared something that stayed with me. He told me that he used to believe that being vulnerable, or being more direct, might create distance between him and others. But what he experienced was the opposite. It brought people closer.


For much of his career, he had been hesitant to fully express himself. This wasn’t about a lack of ideas or clarity. It was more subtle than that — a tendency to hold back, to filter, to adjust his communication in a way that felt appropriate and aligned with expectations.


In many ways, this is understandable. In Japan, this way of communicating is often reinforced. Leadership here places a strong emphasis on harmony, indirectness, and communicating in ways that are considered “correct” within the context. There is a deep cultural intelligence in this — an awareness of role, timing, and how to maintain alignment within the group.


But there is also a tradeoff.


When leaders become too careful, something important can begin to fade.

Clarity softens. Honesty becomes diluted. Presence becomes partial. And over time, a kind of distance forms — not because leaders intend to create it, but because they are not fully showing themselves.


What this client began to experiment with was simple, but not easy. He started being more direct. More honest. Less filtered. Not in a way that rejected the culture around him, but in a way that allowed him to express what he actually thought and felt, even when it carried some risk.


What surprised him was the response.


Trust accelerated. Conversations became more open. Problems surfaced earlier. Decisions moved faster because people were no longer trying to interpret what was left unsaid. There was tension at times, but it was the kind of tension that comes from people engaging more honestly with each other.


This kind of shift rarely happens in isolation, and in his case, coaching played an important role. He described the coaching space as somewhere he could experiment with being more open — a place where he didn’t need to manage perception or get it right. He could say things as they were, not as they should be.


In many ways, that is what a strong coaching container provides. Not answers, but a mirror. A space where leaders can hear themselves more clearly, and begin to practice showing up differently before bringing that into their teams and organizations.

Two men sit on chairs talking in a lush, sunlit forest. The man facing the camera wears a blue patterned shirt, with dappled light around.

In Asia, I’ve seen this be especially valuable. The perceived cost of getting it wrong — of being too direct, too open, too vulnerable — can feel high. And so many leaders simply don’t experiment at all. Without a space to try, nothing changes.

I recognize this dynamic in myself as well. The longer I’ve lived and worked in Japan, the more I’ve had to pay attention to how I show up. There is a natural cultural adaptation that happens over time. You become more aware of nuance, more thoughtful about timing and delivery, and more attuned to the environment around you.


This is not a bad thing. As an American, I probably needed some of that. We tend to overshare. If there were a way to put our internal dialogue on a billboard, many of us probably would.


Living here has helped refine that instinct. But I’ve also noticed that at times I hold back more than I would have before. Not always consciously, and not always in ways that are obvious, but enough that I can feel the difference.


And so the practice, for me, is not choosing one over the other. It’s finding the balance.

Being thoughtful without disappearing. Being aware without becoming silent. Being open in a way that creates connection rather than distance.

For this client, that became the next evolution of his leadership. Not just trusting himself or stepping back, but allowing himself to be seen more fully. In doing so, he gave his team permission to do the same.


There is a point in leadership where performance stops working. Where saying the right things, managing perception, and playing the role is no longer enough. What is required instead is something simpler, and more difficult at the same time — presence, honesty, and a willingness to be seen.


If you are leading in a complex cultural environment, you already understand the importance of awareness and nuance. But there may also be a question waiting underneath that.


Where are you still holding back?


And what might become possible if you allowed yourself to show up just a little more fully?

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