This is how the Zulu, a native people of Southern Africa, greet one another. It literally means, “I see you.”

Sawubona isn’t just about seeing you physically; it’s about giving the gift of acknowledgment and recognition to your very existence.

The response to Sawubona is Ngikhona, which means, “I am here.” The idea behind this simple exchange is that before you saw me, I didn’t exist—and by seeing me, you bring me into being.

It stems from the African worldview of Ubuntu (literally: I am because you are), which maintains that individuals need other people to ultimately be fulfilled.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu described Ubuntu as the essence of being human. He went on to say that:

A person with Ubuntu is open and available to others, affirming of others, does not feel threatened that others are able and good, for he or she has a proper self-assurance that comes from knowing that he or she belongs in a greater whole and is diminished when others are humiliated or diminished.

Indeed, that “proper self-assurance” is what allows us to shift our focus off ourselves and onto others.

Yet, how many people do we walk by everyday—people we don’t the take time to really see? Are we in some small way denying their existence as we rush by to check off our tasks and execute our plans?

I don’t know; but I do know how powerful it is when someone stops and intentionally acknowledges me. It doesn’t take time—it takes focus.

So be generous with your time and attention today. Slow down a bit. Maybe even stop. Acknowledge the people passing through your day. Make space for them. Bring them into being.

That’s the kind of person others want to be around. That’s the kind of person others want to work with. That’s the kind of person others trust.

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For Reflection: Who are you going to take the time to really see today?

Robbie stopped, surveyed the lights and garland carefully, then replied with a nod, “You over did it.” He then walked past me to find something to eat in the kitchen.

That’s what I like about seven-year-olds—you always get a straight answer. The young often have a healthy disregard for what others think. And every one of us was the same way when we were kids.

So what happened?

At some point, we started to care about what other people thought. We wanted to belong, to fit in. We quickly learned to present an image of ourselves we thought others would approve of.

We put on masks to conceal and protect our true selves. And we still wear them today.

These masks seem to serve us well; however, they subtly undermine our trustworthiness. They violate the first element of trustworthiness—Authenticity—upon which all the other elements are built.

To foster emotional trust with others, we must first remove our masks.

But we can’t stop there. If we just remove our masks, then all we’ve done is go back to being a seven-year-old. When a child acts like a child, it’s amusing; when an adult acts like a child it’s annoying.

However, we have something the child lacks: the capacity to perceive the needs of others and subordinate our own desires to help someone else. We have what it takes to be benevolent.

Cultivating Authenticity and Benevolence together allows you to rediscover your childlike candor and couple it to a genuine care for others. This forms the foundation of emotional trustworthiness.

So take off your masks, tell the truth, speak your mind, share your perspective—but do it all with an honest concern for the welfare of others.

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For Reflection: What masks do you wear at work?

Should I trust the Alpha Company Commander with this mission?

Should I trust my son with the car tonight?

Executives, coaches, parents, and other leaders face decisions like this every day. Once leaders decide they want to trust someone, they all wrestle with the same question:

How much should I trust?

There is no universal answer to that question since every situation is unique. However, there is a general answer that’s helpful in guiding us toward wise trust. It aligns with both the trust literature and my practical experience. Here it is:

You should trust enough that you’d take a hit if they failed—but not so much of a hit that you couldn’t absorb it.

Let’s break it down:

• Be Ready to Take a Hit. Trust is inherently risky. By definition it involves making yourself vulnerable to someone else. If nothing is on the line for you, then you aren’t really trusting. The greater the risk, the more trust is required. Therefore, to get the full effects of wise trust, you must push past your comfort zone.
• But Not Too Much. Wise Trust involves calculated risk-taking, not gambling. Mitigate risk with constraints that limit possible losses to acceptable levels. Losses might be measured in time, money, relationships, data, reputation, etc. Remember, emotional trust risks emotional losses, while functional trust risks functional losses.
• Learn & Repeat. Whatever the outcome, take a moment to learn from it, make adjustments, then go again. Adapt your level of risk/trust accordingly and move forward.

Trusting others is truly not for the faint of heart. You won’t get it right every time. You will fail. Others will fail you. But if you manage your risk along the way, your efforts will ultimately generate trustworthiness in those around you.

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For Reflection: Whom could you stand to trust a little more?

“Old Faithful” had lived up to its name.

The world famous geyser is named for its incredible consistency. You can count on Old Faithful. It erupts about every 90 minutes, allowing park rangers to predict with impressive accuracy when to arrive for the show.

The show itself is impressive, but part of the allure is its consistency.

Would anyone ever refer to you as “Old Faithful?” Dependability—the fourth Element of Trustworthiness—is the quality of doing what you say you’re going to do. In essence, can others count on you?

What can we learn from Old Faithful about dependability? What’s the magic behind its impressive consistency? The answer is just under the surface.

The trick is in the unique hydrothermal conditions that create the geyser in the first place. This hidden system depends on rainfall patterns, groundwater levels, geothermal activity, and the shape of underground cavities.

Though not immediately observable while you wait for the the steaming hole to erupt, these invisible factors all combine to create Old Faithful’s dependability.

The same is true for each of us. Our dependability—or lack thereof—doesn’t rely on our willpower in the moment, the goals we set, or even the promises we make. It relies on the invisible system we operate within.

A solid system of intentional disciplines naturally results in dependable behavior. However, a weak system vulnerable to fleeting whims and outside influences produces inconsistent behavior.

Here are three questions to help you uncover and improve your systems to achieve the dependability you desire:

• How are you actively managing others’ expectations of you?
• What habits & routines are you breaking/building/reinforcing?
• How are you engineering accountability where/when you need it most?

You can develop the dependability of Old Faithful, not by gritting your teeth and trying harder, but by understanding and enhancing your own hidden systems.

Reflection Question: Which question above resonated with you the most? Why?

I get that question a lot. My standard answer is something I picked up from a salty old instructor pilot in flight school:

The first mistake you make in flying a helicopter is taking off. After that you’re basically compensating for a series of compounding problems until you get it back on the ground.

There’s a lot to think about while flying, but having a trusted crew chief helps immensely. A good crew chief takes care of the routine maintenance, ensuring the aircraft is in good shape and running smoothly before and after flights.

Sergeant Wilson was one of the best crew chiefs I ever served with. His aircraft was consistently fully mission capable. He was always anticipating problems, proactively ordering parts, and scheduling maintenance to prevent future issues.

Because of his performance, Sergeant Wilson was up for promotion to the next level—Staff Sergeant. The higher rank would mean more pay and more leadership responsibilities. There was only one problem: he didn’t want the job.

Sergeant Wilson loved his job. He didn’t want to take on new responsibilities that would take him further away from taking care of helicopters. I’ve seen similar scenarios repeated firsthand with merchants, programmers, and doctors.

Top performers aren’t always interested in being trusted with new or different responsibilities. Some, like Sergeant Wilson, love their current job and don’t want to change. Others have more pressing responsibilities at home. Still others make decisions based on the season of life they’re in.

Pundits are quick to praise the power of trust, but trust can be a burden as well. And sometimes that burden is unwanted.

Often I see leaders get annoyed when their unsolicited trust isn’t appreciated. It’s like randomly walking up to someone, announcing “trust fall,” tumbling over, and being upset they didn’t catch you. People have to want the trust you’re offering.

That’s not to say leaders shouldn’t develop others by challenging them, nudging them out of their comfort zones, or providing stretch assignments. Nor does it mean expert teammates shouldn’t be expected to support the team from time to time in expanded ways.

However, these scenarios should not be based on assumptions. Having regular, open conversations about career and life goals keeps expectations aligned—and sets everyone up for success.

Reflection Question: Are you trusting anyone more than they want to be trusted?

Soldiers, Sailors, and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force!

You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you…I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full Victory!

– Excerpt from Gen. Eisenhower’s Order of the Day, June 6, 1944

Eighty Years ago, 175,000 American, British, and Canadian soldiers, sailors, and aviators attempted to open a second front against Nazi-occupied Europe with the largest amphibious assault in history. In his Order of the Day, Eisenhower plainly expresses his trust in the troops under his command.

However, trust is risky.

While copies of this message were being handed out to the troops the night before the attack, Eisenhower was scribbling a very different note. It was brief and direct. It was a message he hoped he never had to send. Here it is with his original edits:

Our landings in the Cherbourg-Havre area have failed to gain a satisfactory foothold and the troops have been withdrawn I have withdrawn the troops. This particular operation My decision to attack at this time and place was based upon the best information available. The troops, the air and the Navy did all that bravery and devotion to duty could do. If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt it is mine alone.

Sometimes you can do everything you can to ensure others have the competence and dependability to be successful, and they can still fail. A truly trustworthy leader can wholeheartedly trust others AND be prepared to accept responsibility for their failures.

You can see by Eisenhower’s edits this is precisely what he did. He removed passive voice and vagueness. In their place he seized fierce, unquestionable ownership for whatever went wrong.

By the end of D-Day—at the cost of over 4,400 lives—155,000 Allied troops controlled 80 square miles of French coastline. The Normandy Landings had succeeded and it marked the beginning of the end for Nazi Germany.

Eisenhower would never have to send the second note, but the fact that he wrote it gives us a window into his character—and an example to follow.

Reflection: How prepared are you to absorb the failure of those you trust?

We woke the next morning to find minimal damage to our property, though still no power. We checked on neighbors and neighbors checked on us. The more we connected with others, the more the extent of devastation came into focus.

Large swaths of our town had been obliterated.

It was Memorial Day Weekend. I had plans with my family. I had things I needed to get done around the house. I was looking forward to checking things off my to-do list and relaxing with friends and family.

My plans would have to change.

Dependability is about making and keeping promises. Some promises are stated. Some don’t have to be; they’re implied. You’ll be there for me, right?You’ll drop what you’re doing when I really need you?

Disasters have a way of snapping the spell of the status quo. Our agendas and routines usually exert a powerful pull on our attention—but not when disaster strikes. We’re shaken awake by the needs of our neighbors. We drop our plans and pick up tools to help each other out.

However, there are invisible storms ravaging the people around us every day. How do we keep our implied promises to care for each other when the damage isn’t so obvious? We discipline ourselves to look, listen, and ask…

• Look up from our own agenda and truly see the people around us
• Listen between the lines for the clues to how they’re really doing
• Ask how they are and what help would look like from their perspective

We all want to be someone others can count on. Natural disasters give us plenty of opportunities to step up, pitch in, and lend a hand. My community is still in the midst of pulling together to heal and recover.

You don’t have to wait for an overt catastrophe to show others you’re trustworthy. Push back on the status quo in your everyday by keeping your eyes up, your ears open, and your heart ready.

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For Reflection: Who in your circle do you need to check on today?

By October of 2015, my family was exhausted. On top of homeschooling three kids, Sarah founded a theatre company that year and staged two professional productions. At Walmart, the team I led had spent the last seven months delivering four concurrent Leadership Academies for high potential leaders.

Our family was ready for a break. So we took off on a road trip that included visiting family and friends in New York City, attending my West Point class reunion, and spending some downtime in a remote cabin in West Virginia.

I returned to work refreshed and energized. However, I immediately discovered something was off with my team. They were getting the work done, but engagement had ebbed and there was a general air of pessimism. Were they tired? Unhappy? Worried?

I soon uncovered the source of the gloominess. Speaking with one of my direct reports, she revealed that someone on my team had told everyone I was surely interviewing for a new job in New York and was going to leave the team and the company.

“What!?!” I exclaimed. “Nothing could be further from the truth.” I was shocked. I was angry. I was frustrated. Some people on my team, when given the choice, had not given me the benefit of the doubt.

Here’s an uncomfortable truth: The moment you need the benefit of the doubt, it’s too late to do anything about it.

After cooling off, I made a plan. I confronted the source of the rumor. I discussed the details of my trip with the team. We started planning for the next year. Though I hadn’t named them at the time, I was deliberately reinforcing the integrity elements of trustworthiness—authenticity and dependability.

It’s tempting to blame the person who started the rumor. However, as a leader, I needed to take responsibility for the levels of trust I had cultivated. The greater the trust, the easier it would have been to assume positive intent and give me the benefit of the doubt.

On this month’s Inside West Point Podcast, Colonel John Baskerville, a professor at the US Military Academy, shared a reflection question he asks himself to ensure he’s regularly fostering trust:

How do you think you did in that interaction…if you said or did something right now—and they saw it out of context—and it looked like it may harm them…do you think they would give you the benefit of the doubt?

Good question.

Don’t wait to build trust until you need it. Cultivate trust today so when you need the benefit of the doubt tomorrow, they’ll be ready to offer it!

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For Reflection: Who might not give you the benefit of the doubt today—why not?

Should you trust your teenager to make good decisions at that party tonight?

Should you trust Susan with that big account that just opened up at work?

How do you decide?

You may trust Susan or your teenager in general, but how do you decide how much trust to extend in a specific situation? That’s where the rubber meets the road.

There’s a quick test I picked up as a military planner that we can apply to deciding whether to extend trust or not. In the Army, one of the maxims we followed to keep us from making poor decisions was this:

All assumptions must be valid and necessary.

Since every time we trust, we’re essentially making an assumption, this test applies. So in the scenarios above, the question becomes:

“Is it valid and necessary to trust ____ in this situation?”

“Is it valid…” Valid trust is reasonable trust. It’s trust we can justify logically. You can use the Elements of Trustworthiness to build your case:

• Authenticity: Are they being honest with you?
• Benevolence: Are they aligned with your interests?
• Competence: Do they have knowledge, skills, and judgment?
• Dependability: Can you count on them to come through?

“and necessary…” Necessary trust is trust that fills a need and serves a defined purpose. For example, Here are four possible reasons to trust someone:

• Efficiency: Trusting others frees us to invest our own time, energy, and talents in other ways.
• Synergy: Wise trust between team members yields more productivity and protection than the sum of the individuals alone.
• Reciprocity: One way to facilitate someone trusting you, is to ante up first and trust them.
• Development: As a leader, extending wise trust to a subordinate can cause that person to start trusting themselves.

It’s important to note that validity and necessity must both be met to extend trust wisely. Without validity, you’re taking on too much risk; without necessity, you have no reason to assume the risk in the first place.

So should you trust Susan? Or your teenager? Or the sales associate?

I don’t know; that’s up to you. But before you make your choice, take a moment to consider whether your trust is valid and necessary.

For Reflection: Why do you trust the people you trust?

Fun Fact: You didn’t “do” as much as you thought you did. This scenario illustrates what Psychologist Ellen Langer first called the “illusion of control.” All those buttons you pressed? None of them were functional.

Computers have controlled traffic lights in large cities since the 1980s, leaving roughly 10% of urban crosswalk buttons inoperable. And elevators made in the US after 1990 are required by law to remain open long enough for those with physical disabilities to get in—so no amount of button mashing will speed the process.

So why are the buttons still there? In some cases, it’s not cost effective to remove them, but another reason is psychological. We like to think we’re in control. It makes us feel safe. It makes the world seem not so scary.

While pressing useless buttons may be harmless, sometimes the allure of control can lead us astray.

We want to believe we can directly control our finances, our projects, our teams, our relationships, our future. We yearn for the sense of security that control promises. Advertisers constantly cater to that desire by peddling more and more control.

However, control—as Langer pointed out—is often an illusion. And the security it offers is just as flimsy.

There are a million things hovering just beyond your grasp at any given moment. The weather. The price of oil. The competition. The people around you. Your next breath.

You can respond to that troublesome fact in 3 ways:

1. Do nothing and resign yourself to being tossed around by the wind and waves of life.
2. Strive to control the uncontrollable and wear yourself out chasing after the wind.
3. Learn to wisely trust yourself and others to respond to whatever life throws at you.

True power doesn’t come from control—control is a cheap imposter of power. True power belongs to those who can trust well enough to harness the uncontrollable, adapt to the inconceivable, and maneuver in the unknown. This is true power, true security, and true freedom.

For Reflection: What are you trying to control, that you should be letting go?