The organization was in disarray.

The previous manager was a boisterous extrovert who drove a wedge between employees and clients alike. Many assumed this establishment was going under, destined for the graveyard. In a strange twist of fate, the directors chose a dark horse as their new leader . . . a unicorn, in fact. Everyone believed he was a shy bureaucrat who’d be compliant to the demands of louder men. A paper shuffler, an administrator, a boring milquetoast.

They couldn’t have been more wrong.

Inside the unicorn was the heart of a lion. He was no compliant coward.
In short order, he transformed the organization—not by shouting, stomping, or smooth-talking, but by using his introvert superpowers: empathy, active listening, and vision. He made his way through the building (all thirty-eight floors), meeting each of the 4,000 employees in person. He ate in the cafeteria, engaging with staff and hearing their concerns. He instituted weekly coffee hours where anyone could come and say what was on their mind with no fear of reprisal. And in private conversations, he asked each person about their strengths and how they preferred to be managed.

Through quiet aplomb, Dag Hammarskjöld turned a failing institution into a thriving one and set the gold standard for what it means to be a UN Secretary-General.

This is what real leadership looks like.

For too long, management has been defined by dominance, so-called “charisma,” and loud volume. But some of history’s most impactful leaders—people like Dag—operated differently. They led with wisdom, restraint, and an unshakable commitment to integrity.

I believe in this kind of leadership. Not because it’s trendy, but because it’s genuine. The strongest leaders aren’t the ones making the most noise; they’re the ones making the most impact.