There is a kind of leadership that cannot be measured in metrics, nor fully captured in reports. It is felt — like music is felt — in the deep connection between individuals moving toward something larger than themselves. True leadership is invisible, like a conductor whose presence vanishes into the music.

Today, within the storied walls of Harvard Kennedy School, a workshop titled “Leadership and Conducting”brought this metaphor vividly to life. Organized by the McCloy German Caucus and held in Taubman Hall, the session offered more than technique — it offered a philosophy: that leadership, at its finest, is an act of conducting — not commanding.

The afternoon opened with welcoming remarks from Professor Mathias Risse, Director of the McCloy Program, who reflected on the spirit of the day — a spirit of exploration, creativity, and leadership beyond traditional boundaries. In his opening remarks, with visible emotion, on how the beauty of music — particularly its embodiment of unity — moved him to tears, noting how painfully rare and necessary such unity feels in today’s fractured world. His words set the tone for what would become an unforgettable journey into the heart of leadership itself.

It is an idea that echoes the teachings of Ron Heifetz, whose work on adaptive leadership reminds us that to truly lead is to engage both the audience and the unseen music beneath our words — the emotional current that either mobilizes or estranges people. Leadership, like music, is an art of resonance.

The workshop, masterfully led by a seasoned conductor, wove these ideas together with practical wisdom, leaving an imprint on all who attended.

​​A conductor does not seize control of every note. Nor does a true leader. Instead, the role is to create conditions where many individuals, each skilled in their own right, can find their place in a greater harmony.
Harmony is not about sameness; it is about alignment. The conductor showed that leadership begins by creating an atmosphere where all players are tuned not only to their own excellence, but to the collective purpose. Great leaders recognize that brilliance emerges not from louder individuals, but from those who listen, adjust, and build together.
It requires humility — understanding that without the orchestra, the conductor has no sound. Leadership is not a solo performance. It is the invisible weaving of diverse talents into a living, breathing whole.

Communication in leadership is not merely about words — it is about tone, speed, timing, and relevance.
The conductor emphasized that today, attention is the most precious currency. In a world flooded with noise, simply being louder will not suffice. You might keep people awake, but you won’t necessarily capture their hearts.
Instead, he taught, the slower you go — when appropriate — the more profound and lasting your message becomes. Speed must be purposeful; tone must be appropriate to the moment; timing must be impeccable. Leadership is an act of reading the room — or the orchestra — and adapting your message to match what the moment calls for.
A true leader must learn to improvise — to sense when the audience’s attention drifts, to recalibrate, and once attention is secured, to conduct the most important message forward with clarity and grace.
Discipline underpins it all. Without disciplined listening, disciplined timing, and disciplined humility, the music — and leadership — dissolves into noise.

An orchestra trusts its conductor not because the conductor can outplay them, but because the conductor holds the vision — a vision greater than any single part.

Likewise, leadership demands trust — earned through humility, consistency, and service to a purpose higher than oneself. Micromanagement suffocates trust; listening breathes it back into life.
When trust is nurtured, discipline becomes shared, not imposed. Alignment becomes natural, not coerced. As in music, organizations flourish when they are united by trust, not fear.

In music, you must choose the right key to evoke the intended emotions — joy, sorrow, hope, urgency. The same is true in leadership.

Managing an organization is, at its heart, managing emotional resonance. The wrong tone at the wrong time can dissonate and divide. The right tone, chosen carefully and authentically, can inspire and align.

Leadership is the art of finding the key that moves people — of striking chords not with manipulation, but with genuine conviction.

It is not merely about conveying information; it is about creating experiences that stir people into action.

Perhaps the highest form of conducting — and of leadership — is when the audience, or the team, becomes so engrossed in the music, so invested in the mission, that the conductor becomes almost invisible.
At this point, leadership transcends personal charisma or control. It becomes a shared endeavor — a living, breathing entity moving forward under its own inspired momentum.

Ron Heifetz’s idea of getting “on the balcony” — observing the broader system, adjusting rhythm and tone without being swallowed by the chaos — mirrors exactly the conductor’s dance: stepping in when needed, stepping back when possible, always serving the greater sound.

As the workshop at Harvard drew to its end, after four hours of wisdom, movement, and laughter, the conductor lowered his baton and left us with a single, unforgettable charge:

Leadership does not begin when you receive a title or a team.
It begins the moment you decide to live deliberately — to listen deeply, to move with intention, to orchestrate your energy, your passions, your choices toward something larger than yourself.

We all have an orchestra within us: our relationships, our dreams, our fears, our hopes.
Conducting your life means choosing your key wisely. It means setting your own rhythm.
It means slowing down when it matters most, improvising when needed, leading with humility, and never forgetting that true power lies not in how loudly you speak, but in how deeply you connect.

Leadership, after all, is not about spotlighting yourself.
It is about summoning the music that would not have existed without you — and then letting it soar.

And so, the final call lingers still: Go and conduct your life.

Ron Heifetz began his lecture by situating his leadership framework within a deeply personal context. He shared that he originally trained as a medical doctor, aspiring to become a neurosurgeon like his father—himself a legendary figure in the field. But his career path took a dramatic turn during a gap year before his residency, which led to two transformative experiences.

1. Prison Doctor at Rikers Island
Heifetz’s first moonlighting job was at a New York City prison. There, from 4 PM to 8 AM, he examined newly arrived inmates. He noticed that:
• Most were Black or Latinx men, not from privileged backgrounds.
• Almost all had experienced injustice or trauma.
• Their suffering couldn’t be “fixed” with medical intervention.
These were not “technical problems” (the kind a surgeon could fix) but deep social and adaptive problems (that of heart and mind), rooted in systemic issues that required societal change, not expert intervention.

2. Physician for Corporate Executives at Rockefeller Center
The second job, in stark contrast, was in a clinic serving high-powered business leaders.
• He saw signs of burnout, anxiety, and leadership stress.
• These men had authority but lacked inner resilience.
• He listened deeply to their experiences, spending more time than required.
Even those in positions of power struggled—especially with the emotional burdens of leadership.
Together, these jobs made him realize that many of society’s hardest problems are not technical—they are adaptive. They require people to change their behaviors, beliefs, and relationships, which is much harder than applying a solution from expertise.

Heifetz outlined three core principles that underlie his framework for leadership:
1. Leadership is a Practice, Not a Personality Trait or Position
• Leadership is not tied to authority or charisma.
• It’s a form of work, a craft that addresses a specific category of problems.
• Just as carpenters or doctors work on specific domains, leadership focuses on mobilizing people to face adaptive challenges.
• During the COVID-19 pandemic, for example, leadership was practiced by many people—some in formal roles, others not—who rose to the occasion creatively.

2. The Core Challenge Is Diagnostic: Technical vs. Adaptive Problems
• Technical problems can be solved by expertise. They have known solutions.
• Adaptive problems require learning, emotional shifts, and changes in values or behavior.
• Most problems are a mix of both, and the failure to diagnose correctly is the most common leadership failure.
Two main reasons people misdiagnose:
a. Overconfidence: People in authority often default to what they know.
b. Political Risk: Naming an adaptive challenge threatens the status quo and can create resistance.
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3. Authority Is a Tool, Not the Essence of Leadership
• Authority is a contractual relationship—people give power to others in exchange for services.
• But having authority doesn’t mean you’re leading.
• Many people in power avoid adaptive work because it’s politically dangerous.
• Leadership can be exercised from any position, even without formal power.

Heifetz turned to evolutionary biology to inspire adaptive work:
• Even radical transformations in nature are conservative—they retain DNA while innovating.
• Similarly, leadership should not advocate only for change but also for preserving what’s essential in a culture or organization.
Failure to honor what should be conserved provokes backlash—often stronger than the forward momentum of change itself.
• Social justice movements, while passionate and righteous, can provoke strong counter-reactions if they ignore or dishonor what others want to preserve. He sees this as one of the major strategic mistakes in leadership today.

As a student of MLD-201: Exercising Leadership – The Politics of Change and MLD-202: Leadership from the Inside Out, I’ve spent the year immersed in Ron Heifetz’s foundational framework of adaptive leadership.

In MLD-201, we learn to view leadership as a practice—not a position or personality trait, but a disciplined craft of mobilizing people to face tough challenges. The course introduces the distinction between technical and adaptiveproblems and equips students to diagnose complex systems, engage stakeholders, and lead amidst resistance.

MLD-202, in turn, turns the lens inward. It asks: Who are you, really, when you lead? What values, loyalties, and narratives shape your actions? And what internal transformations must you undergo in order to lead others through external change? It is, in every sense, a course on the inner work of leadership—on self, identity, and freedom.

It was in that spirit that I asked a question that had been rising within me for some time:
“How do we renegotiate our lines of code?”

I wasn’t referring to computer programming, of course. I was speaking about the deep internal scripts—the cultural, familial, and personal programming that often governs us unconsciously. The “code” we inherit that shapes how we relate to power, belonging, and responsibility. My question was about the courage it takes to examine that programming—and rewrite it.
Heifetz answered with the clarity of someone who distilled four decades of work into four profound minutes:
• First, he said, start with reverence. Honor your roots. Acknowledge the wisdom and strength embedded in the traditions and values that shaped you.
• But then, he urged, be willing to examine what no longer serves you or those you seek to lead.
• And above all, understand that this work--the work of internal adaptation—is lifelong. It is not linear. It is often painful. But it is essential for personal integrity and real leadership.

This moment captured the very heart of MLD-202: that before we can guide others through transformation, we must be willing to undertake it ourselves. Leadership doesn’t begin with grand strategies or flawless speeches. It begins with the quiet, often difficult work of looking within—and choosing who we want to become.

He closed with practical, heartfelt guidance:
• Don’t wait for the “perfect job”--every job can be an experiment in learning, if you’re fully present.
• Leadership is not measured by title, visibility, or outcome. Many of your most important contributions won’t be seen or celebrated.
• Don’t be paralyzed by grandiosity—Harvard may make you feel like you must change the world. But changing a room, a relationship, or a mindset can be just as meaningful.
• Stay grounded in meaning, not measurement.

• Leadership is not about having answers—it’s about asking better questions and engaging people in the work of transformation.
• Distinguishing technical and adaptive problems is essential—and failing to do so leads to ineffective or even harmful leadership.
• Leadership starts with self-awareness: renegotiating your own “code” is a prerequisite for leading others through change.
• Humility, presence, and the ability to honor the past while moving forward are what make leadership humane—and possible.

On the evening of April 4, 2025, a room at Harvard filled with the pulse of purpose. The CJ4All Launch Party--Climate Justice for All: Stories, Struggles & Solidarity—was not a typical campus event. It was a moral reckoning. A political awakening. And most of all, a call to organize.
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Born from MLD377: Organizing: People, Power, Change, taught by Professor Marshall Ganz, CJ4All is a student-led campaign demanding that Harvard recognize what frontline communities have long known: climate change is not only an environmental crisis—it is a justice crisis.

The evening unfolded with testimony, analysis, and imagination—stories from Saudi Arabia, Nepal, the Philippines, Nigeria, and India that illuminated the global asymmetries at the core of our planetary emergency.

Mark Dennis Joven, a prominent figure in international climate finance from the Philippines, addressed the critical shortfall in the Loss and Damage Fund. He highlighted that while approximately $700 million has been pledged to the fund, this amount represents less than 0.2% of the estimated $400 billion in losses that developing countries face annually due to climate change . This stark disparity underscores the vast gap between current financial commitments and the actual needs of vulnerable nations. Joven emphasized the necessity for developed countries to substantially increase their contributions and to explore innovative financing mechanisms to bridge this chasm.

Ritwija Darbari, a policy strategist from India, delved into the nation’s endeavor to balance rapid economic growth with social equity and environmental sustainability. She noted that as India advances its development agenda, it faces the dual challenge of uplifting a vast population while mitigating environmental degradation. Darbari referenced India’s commitment to achieving net-zero emissions by 2070 and the associated strategies, including a significant push towards renewable energy . She stressed that sustainable development in India necessitates policies that are inclusive, ensuring that economic benefits are equitably distributed and that environmental considerations are integral to the growth narrative.