What a casual conversation revealed about decision-making and leadership
Recently, we had a street party with our neighbours in Brussels. Food, drinks, long tables in the street. The unusual experience of discovering who actually lives behind all those front doors: actors, fashion designers, EU officials, science-fiction writers, community leaders and people with careers and interests I would never have guessed. Not to mention the nationalities from all over the world.
What struck me was how quickly people revealed themselves in this setting where there was no pressure to impress. Within an hour we had all learned a surprising amount about one another.
What makes deciding so hard in groups
Naturally, the conversation also turned to what I do. I mentioned my upcoming book Traction. It’s based on the framework of the others-oriented We-Mind vs. the self-focused Me-Mind, two equally important but sometimes competing internal drives that guide our decisions. That’s how I explain why some people feel they have the wind in their sails, and others like they’re on a constant obstacle course.
“I need to hear this,” a young man said.
“The Me-Mind focuses on our own well-being, but it’s also the part of us that speaks up, gets things done, that runs ahead and believes others should follow,” I said. “Our We-Mind looks at how decisions affect everyone else. It wants to make sure that everybody is on board, and that harmony is preserved.”
The man and another neighbour started nodding vigorously. “We both work in different cooperatives,” he said. “And it’s exactly like you describe. Every decision needs to be deliberated. And everyone is so scared of antagonising the others that it takes ages before anything moves ahead.” He blew out a long breath, as if he had been waiting for someone to name the problem.
“At my cooperative too,” the woman said. “There is no leadership. Decision-making takes forever. It sometimes drives me crazy, but I now have words for what’s going on.” Then she drew the obvious conclusion: “So we need to learn to use our Me-Mind more.”
“Up to a point,” I said.
One is not necessarily better than the other. But it seems to me that we have built the definition of success around the Me-Mind: winning, competing, fast decision-making or even taking risks, accumulating wealth, getting ahead, dominating the market. Those qualities are often rewarded as evidence of ambition and leadership. But what if we started valuing the qualities of the We-Mind, like making sure that nobody stays behind, or thinking twice before jumping in the deep end?
And what if we questioned the assumption that people need to change themselves in order to fit into the system? Because, when hesitation is driven by a strong need for connection, pushing yourself to become more assertive can create internal conflict rather than resolve the hesitation.
Both neighbours thought about that for a moment.
“Of course,” the young man said, “once you have made a group decision, it goes a long way, because everybody supports it.”
“Perhaps we can try leadership per task,” the woman mused.
Her remark stayed with me long after we had cleared away the tables and chairs. She had instinctively found a third possibility: leadership does not always have to mean standing permanently outside or ahead of the group. Perhaps the person with the clearest vision for a particular task can step forward, lead it, and then step back into the group. Task-specific leadership allows a group to preserve collective ownership while allowing the person with the clearest expertise or vision to lead temporarily.
Why you overthink
There is a version of this conversation that many people have with themselves: “I’m too concerned with what other people think. I take too many possibilities into account. I should be more assertive. I should stop worrying and just act.” So they push themselves to speak first, decide faster, take more risks, tolerate more conflict, care less about the effect on others. In short: lean into their Me-Mind.
Sometimes that works. But it can also create a different problem: they are moving forward by overriding something that matters deeply to them. That ultimately then leads to the subconscious throwing a spanner in the wheel by turning even an apparently simple decision into an exhausting internal negotiation.
If your instinct is to take other people into account, moving ahead on your own judgment can feel scary. Perhaps speaking up feels like creating conflict. Claiming the spotlight may feel like putting yourself above others. Choosing what you want may feel like leaving someone else behind.
So you reconsider. You prepare a little more. You explain a little more. You wait for more certainty. From the outside, that can look like indecision or overthinking. Inside, you’re likely to be trying to find a way forward without sacrificing connection, belonging, safety or control.
Seeing the pattern changes the question. Instead of asking “why can’t I just decide and get on with it?”, you can ask, “what am I trying to protect here?”
That opens up the way for a different kind of momentum: not forcing yourself through resistance, but understanding what causes it, and bringing the two drives back into dialogue.
This is the thinking behind my upcoming workbook, Traction: Turn Your Doubts into Decisions. It looks at what happens underneath hesitation: the patterns that make you overthink, overprepare, withdraw, seek approval or keep working long after you already know enough. It contains journaling exercises, practical prompts and somatic tools to recognise what is happening and to work with it, rather than simply forcing yourself through it.
If you want to start exploring this for yourself, you can download the entire first chapter of Traction for free here.