For a long time, I believed that leadership meant having the answers. Somewhere along the way, I absorbed the idea that if you were a manager, you were supposed to know everything or at least appear like you did. Looking back now, I realise how flawed that belief was. In fact, if you genuinely think you know everything as a leader, then maybe you’re not one. Or at the very least, maybe you’ve stopped growing.
What complicates this even more is the perception held by some colleagues. There’s often an unspoken assumption that if you know more than your manager, especially on a technical level, you should have their job. I’ve seen this mindset play out repeatedly, and I’ve been on the receiving end of it. It’s a dangerous belief because it reduces leadership to knowledge alone and completely ignores the human, strategic, and emotional aspects of leading people.
Early in my career, I was promoted into a leadership role with very little training and even less real experience managing a team. On paper, I had the title, but in reality, I was learning on the job, every single day. What I didn’t anticipate was the resistance. Some of the members of my team felt the need to prove, daily, that they knew more than I did. Not in a healthy, collaborative way, but in a confrontational way.
They would challenge me in meetings, ask questions designed to put me on the spot, and try to catch me out technically. It wasn’t about improving outcomes or sharing knowledge; it was about power. About positioning themselves as more capable, more deserving, more “qualified.” At the time, I didn’t have the language or confidence to name what was happening. I just knew how it made me feel.
It made me doubt myself. It made me wonder whether they were right. Maybe I wasn’t good enough. Maybe I shouldn’t be here. When you’re already navigating a new leadership role without proper support or training, that kind of behaviour can be incredibly destabilising. Instead of focusing on learning how to lead effectively, I spent a lot of emotional energy just trying to survive and not be exposed.
So, what did I do as a manager? Honestly – nothing. And that’s not something I say with pride. I didn’t know how to set boundaries, how to redirect behaviour, or how to reframe the narrative around what my role actually was. I lacked the experience, the confidence, and the tools. I thought leadership meant absorbing it, pushing through, and somehow becoming “better” so it would stop.
With time and perspective, I now understand that leadership is not about knowing more than everyone else. It’s about creating an environment where knowledge is shared, not weaponised. It’s about understanding that technical expertise and leadership capability are not the same thing. You can be brilliant at your job and still not be ready or willing to lead people.
I also understand now that insecurity often drives that need to prove superiority. When someone feels the constant urge to demonstrate that they know more than their manager, it’s rarely about ambition alone. It’s about validation. And if you don’t recognise that dynamic early, it can erode trust and damage team culture very quickly.
Today, with decades of experience, I would handle things very differently. I would name the behaviour, set clear expectations, and reinforce that leadership is not a competition. I would invite contribution without allowing intimidation. I would remind myself and my team that learning is a constant, for everyone.
That early experience shaped me more than I realised at the time. It taught me what unsupported leadership feels like. It showed me how damaging unchecked ego can be. And it reinforced something I believe deeply now: good leaders don’t pretend to know everything. They stay curious. They stay humble. And they understand that authority doesn’t come from being the smartest person in the room, it comes from how you treat the people in it.
Kirsty Ritchie
