Leadership Isn’t a Perk. It’s a Practice.
What happens when the perks disappear—and you have to lead without them.
There’s a story I think about often.
A former executive was invited to speak at a conference. The year before, when he held a senior position, the organizers flew him business class. A car picked him up at the airport. His hotel was pre-checked. The next morning, someone met him in the lobby and drove him to the venue, where he was handed a cup of coffee in a beautiful ceramic cup.
This year, he no longer held that position. He flew coach. Took a taxi. Checked himself in. The next morning, he took another taxi to the same venue, walked in through the front door, found his way backstage, and when he asked for coffee, someone pointed to the machine in the corner. He poured himself a cup — into a Styrofoam cup.
On stage, he held up that cup and said: “The ceramic cup was never meant for me. It was meant for the position I held. I deserve a Styrofoam cup.”
That’s the lesson. The perks, the deference, the “yes, ma’am” and “great idea, boss” — none of it is for you. It’s for the title. The role. The authority you temporarily hold.
Strip that away, and what’s left?
That’s the real question every leader should be asking. Because leadership isn’t what people give you when you have power. It’s what you give others when you do.
The Perks Are a Test, Not a Trophy
The higher you climb, the more comfortable it gets.
People laugh at your jokes. Your ideas get fast-tracked. Someone always grabs you coffee. Doors open — literally and figuratively. You get the corner office, the exec assistant, the budget authority, the seat at the table.
And somewhere along the way, you start to believe it’s because of you.
It’s not.
It’s because of the role. The title. The positional power you hold. And the moment you forget that, you stop leading and start performing.
You start believing your own press. You stop listening because you assume you already know. You stop asking for feedback because surely, if something were wrong, someone would tell you.
Except they won’t. Because you’ve made it clear — subtly, unconsciously — that you don’t actually want to hear it.
The test: Can you separate who you are from what you do?
If someone stripped your title tomorrow, would people still follow you? Would they still trust you? Would they still want to work with you?
If the answer is no, you’re not leading. You’re just occupying space.
Humility Isn’t Weakness. It’s Clarity.
Let me be clear: You can accept the perks. You can enjoy them. Fly business. Take the car. Drink from the ceramic cup.
Just don’t confuse those things with your worth.
Because the minute you do, you’ll start protecting the position instead of serving the people. You’ll make decisions based on what keeps you comfortable, not what’s right. You’ll avoid hard conversations because they threaten your status. You’ll surround yourself with people who agree with you instead of people who challenge you.
And that’s when you stop growing. That’s when your team stops trusting you. That’s when you become the kind of leader people tolerate, not the kind they’d follow anywhere.
Humility isn’t about shrinking. It’s about seeing clearly.
It’s knowing that your success is built on the work of dozens — maybe hundreds — of people who will never get the recognition you do. It’s knowing that the strategy you presented didn’t come from nowhere; it came from late nights, hard conversations, and collaboration you may not even remember.
It’s knowing that if you were gone tomorrow, the work would continue. Because it was never about you in the first place.
The Practice: Remember the Styrofoam Cup
So how do you stay grounded when everything around you is designed to inflate your ego?
You practice. Every day.
Here’s what that looks like:
1. Remember where you came from.
You weren’t always the CMO. You weren’t always the decision-maker. You were the junior strategist staying late to fix someone else’s deck. You were the one pitching ideas that got ignored. You were the one wondering if you’d ever get a seat at the table.
Don’t forget her. Don’t forget him. Don’t forget what it felt like to not have power.
Because the people on your team? That’s where they are right now. And how you treat them will determine whether they remember you as the leader who lifted them up or the one who forgot what it was like.
2. Do the work no one sees.
The best leaders I know still do the unglamorous stuff. They proofread decks. They jump into spreadsheets. They take notes in meetings so someone else doesn’t have to.
Not because they have to. Because it signals something important: No job is beneath me.
If you’re too important to do the small stuff, you’re not leading. You’re performing status.
3. Give credit. Take blame.
This one’s simple, but most leaders get it backwards.
When something goes right, put your team’s names on it. Forward their work to the CEO. Shout them out in the all-hands. Make sure everyone knows who did the heavy lifting.
When something goes wrong, you take it. Publicly. “That was my call. Here’s what I’m learning from it.”
Your team will never forget the leader who protected them when things got hard. And they’ll never forgive the one who threw them under the bus to save face.
4. Ask for help.
You don’t have all the answers. And pretending you do makes you a smaller leader, not a stronger one.
“I don’t know” is a complete sentence.
“I need your help” is a sign of strength, not weakness.
“What am I missing?” is the question great leaders ask constantly.
The more senior you get, the more you need people who will tell you the truth. But they’ll only do that if you’ve made it safe. And you make it safe by being the first one to admit when you’re lost.
5. Check yourself regularly.
Here’s the diagnostic:
Are people being honest with you, or are they telling you what you want to hear?
Are you asking more questions than you’re answering?
When’s the last time you admitted you were wrong?
Are you making decisions that serve the work, or decisions that protect your position?
If you lost your title tomorrow, would your team still respect you?
If you don’t like the answers, good. That’s the starting point.
Leadership Is What You Do When No One’s Watching
The real measure of leadership isn’t how you show up when the stakes are high and everyone’s watching. It’s how you show up on a random Tuesday when no one’s paying attention.
Do you still say thank you to the person who refills your coffee?
Do you still make time for the junior team member who wants advice?
Do you still take responsibility when something breaks, even if it’s technically not your fault?
Do you still show up with the same energy for your team that you show up with for the C-suite?
Because here’s the truth: Your team knows.
They know if you’re leading because you care, or because you like the corner office. They know if you see them as people or as resources. They know if you’re in it for the mission or just the title.
And they’re deciding every day whether you’re worth following.
The Styrofoam Cup Is the Point
Leadership isn’t about the perks. It’s not about the recognition, the applause, the business class seat.
It’s about the work. The people. The mission.
It’s about building something bigger than yourself and then stepping back so others can build it too.
It’s about knowing that the ceramic cup was never yours to begin with — and being okay with that.
Because the leaders worth following? They don’t need the ceramic cup to know who they are.
They’re the ones still showing up. Still doing the work. Still serving the team.
Still holding the Styrofoam cup.
And still leading like it matters.
Which leader are you? The one who needs the ceramic cup to feel important, or the one who knows they never did?