Olivia: Most people think getting the top job—CEO, manager, team lead—is the ultimate reward. The prize at the end of the race. Jackson: Right, it's the corner office, the title on the door, the final boss level of your career. You've made it. Olivia: What if that's completely wrong? What if the promotion is actually the starting line for the most thankless, painful work you'll ever do? Jackson: Whoa. Okay, that's a heck of a reframe. You're saying the reward is actually a punishment? That sounds... bleak. Olivia: It’s a challenging idea, for sure. And that very question is at the heart of Patrick Lencioni's book, The Motive: Why So Many Leaders Abdicate Their Most Important Responsibilities. Jackson: Lencioni, right. He's the guy famous for writing these business fables, like The Five Dysfunctions of a Team. It's a unique style—some people love it, others find it a bit polarizing. Olivia: Exactly. And he's built his entire career on this idea of 'organizational health.' With The Motive, he argues that the single biggest factor for a healthy company isn't strategy or finance—it's the leader's fundamental reason for wanting the job in the first place. Jackson: The 'why' behind the power. I'm intrigued. So how does he make this case? Olivia: He illustrates it perfectly with the fable that makes up the first half of the book, which is a story about two rival CEOs that gets surprisingly personal.

Jackson: A fable. Okay, I'm picturing corporate animals in a forest. Is the CEO a lion? Please tell me the CEO is a lion. Olivia: (laughing) No lions, but there is a predator-prey dynamic. The story centers on Shay Davis, the CEO of Golden Gate Security. He's a classic "successful" leader—smart, good at deals, likes thinking about the big picture. But his company is getting absolutely crushed by a rival, Del Mar Alarm, run by a guy named Liam Alcott. Jackson: The nemesis. Every good story needs one. So Shay is losing, and he's desperate. Olivia: He's desperate. So desperate, in fact, that he swallows his pride and agrees to meet with Liam, his rival, who mysteriously offers to help him. And in their first meeting, Liam drops a bomb on him. He says the consultants who helped him turn Del Mar around redefined the job of CEO. They changed it from "Chief Executive Officer" to "Chief Executing Officer." Jackson: Chief Executing Officer. That sounds more hands-on. Less sitting in a leather chair, more... doing things. Olivia: Precisely. Liam tells Shay that he, Shay, is failing because he treats the CEO job as a reward. He does the parts he enjoys—the strategy, the marketing, the deals—and he avoids or delegates the messy, uncomfortable, human parts of the job. Jackson: Hold on, that sounds like every job ever. I mean, who likes doing the boring or difficult parts? Isn't that just human nature? I love brainstorming new podcast ideas, but I don't love sorting through audio files with weird background noise. Olivia: It is human nature. But Lencioni's point, through Liam, is that for a leader, those uncomfortable tasks are not just part of the job; they are the job. Liam hits Shay with this incredible line: "You are doing the things you like to do. You aren’t doing the things your company needs you to do. And that is why your company’s performance is so far behind ours." Jackson: Ouch. That's a direct hit. So what are these things Shay is avoiding? Olivia: Things like having difficult conversations with his underperforming executives. Running intense, focused team meetings instead of the boring, stale ones he currently tolerates. Constantly managing his direct reports to make sure they're aligned and effective. Liam calls them the "dirty jobs." Jackson: Okay, but this still feels a bit like a corporate morality play. Why would this super-successful rival, Liam, just hand over his entire playbook? It seems a little too good to be true. Olivia: That's the brilliant twist in the fable. Liam isn't some benevolent business guru. He's helping Shay because he sees Shay making the exact same mistakes that got him fired from a previous CEO job. Years earlier, Liam ran a company called Damus, and he was the tech genius, the strategy guy. He ignored the "people stuff," and a competitor with a better leader—not better tech—stole his market and his best employees. Jackson: Ah, so it's a ghost of Christmas past situation. He's not just helping Shay; he's trying to prove to himself that he's learned his lesson. He sees his old, failed self in his rival. Olivia: Exactly. It makes the whole story feel grounded and real. It’s not about altruism; it’s about a painful, learned experience. Liam realized that his primary job wasn't to be the smartest guy in the room, but to do the hard work of execution and team management that only he, as the leader, could do. Jackson: That makes so much more sense. It's not just a nice story; it's a cautionary tale. And it sets up the bigger question, which I'm guessing is the whole point of the book. Olivia: It is. The fable of Shay and Liam is the "what." It shows what happens when a leader abdicates their real responsibilities. The second half of the book is the "why." It unpacks the two fundamental motives that drive a leader to either embrace or avoid those dirty jobs.

Jackson: Okay, so this is where we get into the psychology of it all. What are these two motives? Olivia: Lencioni boils it down to a simple, powerful dichotomy. The first is Reward-Centered Leadership. This is the belief that being a leader is the prize for years of hard work. Now that you've "made it," you've earned the right to do the work you enjoy and avoid the things that are unpleasant or uncomfortable. It's about what the position gives to you. Jackson: That’s Shay, to a T. He felt he'd earned the right to focus on fun strategy sessions and not messy personnel issues. Olivia: Precisely. The opposite is Responsibility-Centered Leadership. This is the belief that being a leader is a profound duty. You accept the role knowing it will be difficult and that you are now responsible for doing whatever the organization needs, especially the mundane or painful tasks that no one else can or will do. It's about what you owe to the people you lead. Jackson: It’s the difference between seeing leadership as a crown versus seeing it as a heavy backpack you have to carry for everyone else. Olivia: That's a perfect analogy. And Lencioni argues that you can diagnose a leader's true motive by looking for what he calls the "Five Omissions"—the five critical duties that reward-centered leaders consistently avoid. Jackson: Okay, let's hear them. This feels like a self-assessment checklist is coming. Olivia: It really is. The first is Developing the Leadership Team. Reward-centered leaders see team-building as a fluffy HR thing, not a core strategic advantage. They avoid the emotional, uncomfortable work required to make a team truly cohesive. Jackson: Right, they'd rather hire a consultant for a one-day retreat than have a real, difficult conversation about how the Head of Sales and Head of Marketing can't stand each other. Olivia: Exactly. The second omission is Managing Subordinates. These leaders often say things like "I trust my people" or "I hate micromanaging" as an excuse to be completely disconnected from what their direct reports are actually doing and how they're performing. Jackson: I've seen that. It's hands-off leadership masquerading as empowerment. Olivia: The third, and maybe the biggest, is Having Difficult and Uncomfortable Conversations. Lencioni tells these horror stories from his consulting work. One CEO watched an executive literally fall asleep in a major meeting and said nothing because he didn't want the confrontation. Another replaced his CIO by just sending a company-wide email announcing the new hire, then literally pretended to be asleep on a private jet to avoid talking to the guy he'd just fired. Jackson: That is brutal. And also deeply cowardly. It’s the ultimate conflict avoidance. Olivia: It is. The last two are linked. Running Great Team Meetings and Communicating Constantly and Repetitively to Employees. Reward-centered leaders find meetings boring and a waste of their time, so they tolerate terrible, unfocused meetings. They also get bored of repeating the company's mission and strategy, forgetting that their employees need to hear it a hundred times to truly internalize it. Jackson: This is the "Chief Reminding Officer" idea from the fable, right? The leader's job is to be a broken record about the things that matter. Olivia: Yes, and it's exhausting! But a responsibility-centered leader understands that the purpose of communication isn't their own entertainment; it's for the benefit of the people listening. Jackson: I have to push back a little here, though. This "Responsibility-Centered" leader sounds like a perfect, selfless saint. Is this model even realistic in the real world, where ego and ambition are, let's be honest, pretty powerful drivers of success? Olivia: That's a fantastic point, and Lencioni addresses it. He says no one is 100% one or the other. Everyone is tempted by the rewards. The key is which motive is dominant. He also makes a surprising point about a specific type of reward-centered leader that seems harmless but is actually very dangerous. Jackson: Let me guess. The leader who is motivated purely by money? Olivia: Nope. The leader who is motivated by fun. The one who just wants their job to be enjoyable and entertaining. Lencioni says this is insidious because it looks innocent. But a leader who is just chasing what's interesting to them will still neglect the boring, crucial, difficult parts of the job, leaving a vacuum of leadership. They'll walk away from a problem that doesn't excite them, even if it's killing the company. Jackson: Wow. So the fun-loving, charismatic, "cool" boss might actually be just as damaging as the power-hungry tyrant, just in a quieter way. They're both abdicating their duty, just for different selfish reasons. Olivia: That's the core insight. It’s not about being a good or bad person. It’s about whether you see your role as a reward to be enjoyed or a responsibility to be fulfilled.

Jackson: So when you put it all together, the fable of Shay and Liam shows us the consequences of having the wrong motive, and the five omissions give us a diagnostic tool to see it in ourselves and others. Olivia: Exactly. The book is a mirror. It forces you to look past your skills and your resume and ask a much more fundamental question about your character. Why do you really want to lead? Jackson: It reframes the entire career ladder. The goal isn't just to get to the top. The goal is to be worthy of being at the top. And worthiness, in Lencioni's world, is measured by your willingness to do the hard stuff. Olivia: I think the deepest insight here is that leadership isn't a prize you win; it's a service you're chosen for. And the price of that service is embracing the very tasks you'd naturally want to avoid. It’s a conscious choice to accept the discomfort for the good of the whole. Jackson: It really forces you to ask yourself a tough question. If I were offered a leadership role tomorrow, what would be my honest-to-God reason for saying yes? Would it be the status and the pay bump, or would it be the belief that I could genuinely serve that team better than anyone else, even if it meant doing things I hate? Olivia: Exactly. And that's a question worth sitting with. It's not about judging others, but about understanding your own internal compass. We'd love to hear what you think. What are the 'dirty jobs' of leadership you've seen people avoid, or that you struggle with yourself? Find us on our socials and join the conversation. Jackson: It's a powerful and deceptively simple book. A quick read that could change how you think about your entire career. This is Aibrary, signing off.