Olivia: The most powerful thing a leader can say isn't "I'm in charge." It's "I was wrong." Jackson: That feels… deeply counterintuitive. Especially today. Olivia: It is. But today, we're exploring why the secret to incredible influence might just be admitting you're one step away from being a complete idiot. Jackson: (A small laugh) Okay, I'm in. That sounds like my kind of leadership manual. Olivia: It’s the counterintuitive heart of John C. Maxwell's book, The High Road: Bringing People Together in a World That Divides. Jackson: Maxwell... he's a huge name in leadership, right? Almost like a genre unto himself. I feel like I’ve seen his books in every airport bookstore for the last twenty years. Olivia: Exactly. He's trained millions of leaders, from Fortune 500s to the UN. What's fascinating, and what gives this book its unique flavor, is that he comes from a pastoral background. So his work isn't just about corporate strategy; it's deeply rooted in ethics and this core idea of bringing people together. That’s why this book is so highly-rated and feels incredibly relevant right now. Jackson: Bringing people together. That feels like a taller order than ever. Olivia: It is. And Maxwell argues it’s because we’ve forgotten which road to take.

Olivia: Maxwell starts with a story that feels chillingly familiar. He talks about how politics in Washington D.C. used to be, at least on the surface, like a sport. You’d fight hard during the campaign, but afterwards, you’d shake hands and work together for the good of the country until the next election. Jackson: Ah yes, the mythical "before times." Olivia: Right. But then, a shift happened. It became less like sportsmanship and more like war. The new attitude was, "I fought hard. I won. You don't deserve a say." Disagreement, which is normal, curdled into disrespect. And that disrespect, that "low road" mentality, has seeped out of politics and into everything—our workplaces, our communities, even our family dinners. Jackson: I can definitely see that. The idea that if you're not on my team, you're not just wrong, you're a bad person. It’s exhausting. But okay, that's politics, which is famously a dumpster fire. How does this "low road" thinking show up in, say, a regular office or a team project? Olivia: That’s the perfect question, because Maxwell lays out three paths any leader can take in any situation. The first is the Low Road. That's the purely selfish path. The leader who takes the low road asks, "What's in it for me?" They might steal credit for a team member's idea, throw someone under the bus to save themselves, or hoard information to maintain power. Jackson: We've all worked for that person. Olivia: Then there's the Middle Road. This is the road of fairness and transactions. It’s the "you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours" mentality. It's not evil, but it's conditional. The leader on the middle road asks, "What will you do for me if I do this for you?" It’s a world of keeping score. Jackson: That sounds like… most of the world, honestly. It seems practical. Olivia: It does. But Maxwell argues the most powerful, most influential, and ultimately most significant path is the High Road. The high-road leader asks a completely different question: "What can I do for you?" They give first without expecting anything in return. They value people over their own agenda. They bring people together. Jackson: Okay, but that sounds incredibly idealistic. In the real world, doesn't the high-road leader just get taken advantage of? The person who gives and gives and gets nothing back? Olivia: You'd think so. But Maxwell points to one of the most effective leaders in history as a prime example: Abraham Lincoln. He was leading a country that wasn't just divided by opinions, but by guns and bayonets. The ultimate low-road environment. And what did he do? He filled his cabinet with his fiercest political rivals. Jackson: The "team of rivals," right. I’ve heard of that. Olivia: Exactly. He didn't surround himself with yes-men. He invited the people who had called him an idiot, who thought he was unfit for office, into his inner circle. He listened to them, learned from them, and gave them credit. He took the blame when his generals failed. He was constantly taking the high road, believing that bringing all voices to the table, even the ones that attacked him, was the only way to save the country. He put the bigger picture above his own ego. Jackson: When you put it like that, it doesn't sound weak at all. It sounds incredibly strong. It sounds… hard. Olivia: It's the hardest path. Which is why Maxwell says it has the least traffic. It requires a level of personal character that most of us have to fight to develop. Jackson: That Lincoln example is intense. It sounds like taking the high road isn't just a nice idea, it's a discipline. It requires a ton of... what, self-control?

Olivia: More than that. Maxwell argues it requires two things we are culturally terrible at: radical accountability and true authenticity. And they are linked in a surprising way. Jackson: Okay, unpack that. Accountability I get—owning your mistakes. But authenticity is a word that’s been so overused it’s almost meaningless. Be your authentic self! What does that even mean? Olivia: Maxwell tells this incredible personal story. He was in his mid-thirties, a rising star in his field, getting praise everywhere he went. He was starting to believe his own hype. Then one day, his mentor sits him down for lunch and says, "John, I need to tell you something: you’re not amazing. Your gift is amazing, but you are not. You’re one step from stupid." Jackson: Wow. That is… brutal. I would have probably cried into my soup. Olivia: Right? But the mentor explained that our gifts are just that—gifts. They are separate from us. The moment we start thinking we are the gift, that's when arrogance and entitlement creep in. That's when we start taking the low road because we think we deserve it. Acknowledging your own humanness, your own flaws, that you're "one step from stupid," is the foundation of high-road leadership. Jackson: So it's about humility. But how do you balance that with the confidence you need to actually lead? Olivia: That's the paradox. Maxwell calls it "confident humility." It's being secure enough in your strengths to be open about your weaknesses. And this is where accountability comes in. The most authentic thing a leader can do is take accountability for their failures. Jackson: Which almost never happens. The default is to blame the economy, the market, the other department, anything but yourself. Olivia: Exactly. But think about the impact when a leader breaks that pattern. Maxwell's own company CEO, a man named Mark Cole, tells a story about a time he realized he had been leading the organization in the wrong direction. He had stopped listening to Maxwell, his mentor, and was pushing his own agenda. Jackson: That’s a tough realization for a CEO. Olivia: A gut-wrenching one. So what did he do? He didn't try to course-correct quietly or spin the narrative. He called a meeting with his entire leadership team. He stood in front of them and said, "I have failed you. I have not led you well. I took us off course, and I am sorry. I am asking for your forgiveness." Jackson: Hold on. He actually asked for forgiveness? From his own employees? That takes guts. Most leaders would just issue a memo about a "strategic realignment." Olivia: He did. And he said it was one of the hardest moments of his career. But the outcome was astonishing. The team's respect for him didn't decrease; it skyrocketed. Because he was real. He was accountable. He was authentic. As one leadership expert quoted in the book says, "People would rather follow a leader who is always real than one who is always right." Jackson: That makes so much sense. You don't trust the person who pretends to be perfect. You trust the person who admits they're human, just like you. Olivia: And that trust is what allows you to operate from a much higher perspective, to see the bigger picture. It frees you from the most toxic leadership habit of all: keeping score.

Jackson: "Keeping score." That phrase hits hard. We do it all the time, don't we? In friendships, in marriage, at work. "I did this for you, so you owe me." Or, "I'll never forget what they did to me." Olivia: It's the default setting for the middle and low roads. And it's poison. Maxwell tells this painful story from early in his career. He was a young pastor at a tiny church, making almost no money. A wealthy businessman in the church, Arnold, would take him and his wife out for a nice dinner every single week for over three years. It was a lifeline for them. Jackson: That sounds incredibly generous. Olivia: It seemed that way. But then, after three years, Maxwell got an offer to lead a bigger church. When he told Arnold he was leaving, Arnold didn't say "Congratulations." He said, with real hurt and anger, "How could you leave us after all I’ve done for you?" Jackson: Oof. The generosity wasn't a gift. It was a down payment. He was keeping a tally. Olivia: A very precise one. And in that moment, three years of kindness was erased and replaced with a feeling of guilt and obligation. Maxwell realized that keeping score, even with good intentions, puts a burden on the other person. It removes gratitude and breeds entitlement. It's an act of control. Jackson: That's a powerful lesson on a personal level. But you see it on a massive scale too. Nations keep score for centuries. Grudges fuel conflicts forever. Olivia: Which is why the ultimate high-road move is to stop keeping score. And the most powerful example of this is what happened in South Africa. In the 1980s, the country was a powder keg. Apartheid was collapsing, and a civil war seemed inevitable. A leader at a major company developed two scenarios for the country's future. The "low road" was continued oppression and conflict. The "high road" was a negotiated, shared government. Jackson: A path that required both sides to give up something huge. Olivia: It required them to give up the right to revenge. Nelson Mandela had been imprisoned for 27 years. The Black population had been brutally oppressed for generations. They had every right to keep score, to demand retribution. F.W. de Klerk and the white government had every reason to fear losing all their power. But they chose the high road. They chose to stop keeping score of the past to build a shared future. Jackson: They chose grace over grievance. Olivia: That’s the perfect way to put it. Maxwell says the pathway to not keeping score is grace. It's forgiveness without conditions. It's treating people better than they treat you. It's what Mandela did. It’s what Lincoln did. It's what the best leaders do, whether they're running a country or a three-person startup. They live by the bigger picture.

Jackson: So, when you boil it all down, it seems the whole book is a challenge to our most basic instincts. The world tells you to be strong, to take what's yours, and to remember who wronged you. Maxwell is saying the path to real, lasting influence is to be humble, to give more than you take, and to forgive freely. Olivia: Exactly. It's about choosing the bigger picture over the immediate battle. It’s a fundamental reorientation from "me" to "we." And it's not a soft skill; it's a strategic advantage. The research Maxwell cites is clear: companies led by leaders with high integrity and compassion—high-road leaders—see much higher financial returns. Kindness isn't just nice; it's profitable. Jackson: So it’s not about being a doormat. It’s about being wise enough to know that building bridges is always a better long-term investment than building walls. Olivia: That's the core of it. And it starts with a small, daily choice. So, the one action for everyone listening is this: the next time you feel wronged or slighted, at work or at home, just pause. Instead of instinctively thinking, "What do they owe me?" or "How can I win this?", ask yourself a different question: "What does the high road look like here?" Jackson: That's a powerful question. The answer might be to have a tough conversation. It might be to offer help to the person who annoys you most. Or it might just be to let it go. Olivia: Precisely. That small shift in the question you ask yourself is everything. It's the beginning of a different kind of leadership, and a different kind of life. Jackson: We'd love to hear your own 'high road' stories. What's a time you chose to rise above a conflict, big or small? Share it with the Aibrary community on our socials. It’s a conversation worth having. Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.