There is a crucial yet hard-to-understand concept here. Most people grasp the need to set priorities; they put the biggest problems at the top, with smaller problems beneath them. There are simply too many small problems to consider them all. So they draw a horizontal line beneath which they will not tread, directing all their energies to those above the line. I believe there is another approach: If we allow more people to solve problems without permission, and if we tolerate (and don’t vilify) their mistakes, then we enable a much larger set of problems to be addressed. When a random problem pops up in this scenario, it causes no panic, because the threat of failure has been defanged. The individual or the organization responds with its best thinking, because the organization is not frozen, fearful, waiting for approval. Mistakes will still be made, but in my experience, they are fewer and farther between and are caught at an earlier stage.

The lesson, and perhaps the irony, of Tsedal and Sebastian’s study is that executives who deferred to subordinates moved up the pecking order faster than those who refused to bend to their underlings’ will and wisdom: Leaders were granted more power because they gave it away. Yet deference and “flattening” the hierarchy aren’t always the right moves. The University of Michigan’s Lindy Greer shows that the best leaders are adept at “flexing” the hierarchy.

I’m comforted by something I’ve come to believe more and more in recent years—that it’s not always good for one person to have too much power for too long. Even when a CEO is working productively and effectively, it’s important for a company to have change at the top. I don’t know if other CEOs agree with this, but I’ve noticed that you can accumulate so much power in a job that it becomes harder to keep a check on how you wield it. Little things can start to shift. Your confidence can easily tip over into overconfidence and become a liability. You can start to feel that you’ve heard every idea, and so you become impatient and dismissive of others’ opinions. It’s not intentional, it just comes with the territory. You have to make a conscious effort to listen, to pay attention to the multitude of opinions. I’ve raised the issue with the executives I work most closely with as a kind of safeguard. “If you notice me being too dismissive or impatient, you need to tell me.” They’ve had to on occasion, but I hope not too often.

Author and Dartmouth Tuck School of Business professor Sydney Finkelstein completed the largest research project ever on leadership failure, for his groundbreaking book, Why Smart Executives Fail. According to Finkelstein, true failure - “spectacular failure” - is the result of a series of destructive behaviors (seven, to be precise) that executives in failing companies exhibit:

1. They see themselves and their companies as dominating their competitive environments, even if this view is out of step with reality.

1. They identify so completely with the company that there is no clear boundary between their own self-image and interests and the company’s image and interests.

1. They think they have all the answers, often impressing others with the speed and decisiveness with which they deal with significant issues.

1. They make sure that everyone is 100 percent behind them, ruthlessly eliminating anyone who disagrees with their views.

1. They are the consummate company spokesperson, obsessed with managing the image of their company and themselves, often devoting the largest portion of their time to image management.

1. They underestimate fundamental major obstacles, treating them instead as temporarily impediments to be simply removed or circumvented.

1. They stubbornly rely on what worked for them in the past, clinging to the strategies and tactics that made them successful in the first place.

There are two obvious ways to fail here. The translation and error-correction mechanism might be inadequate, or the managers might intentionally distort the signals in order to follow priorities of their own. The tragedy of senior management is that it can drift into either of these failure modes without realising; if either problem arises, it arises in their information and communication environment, so they won’t notice it. It’s the problem identified by Niccolò Machiavelli — a prince who is not wise cannot be well advised, and a manager who doesn’t have access to excess analytical capacity won’t be able to tell when something has gone wrong with their subordinates. But maintaining that spare management capacity is expensive.