Hidden Edge of Helping
A few years ago, I watched a leadership team step into a familiar trap.
The head of product, a sharp, well-meaning, deeply committed leader, was known for being “incredibly supportive.” When anyone on her team hit a snag, she’d jump in: rewriting the presentation, troubleshooting the code, smoothing out the conflict, reworking the plan. Her team admired her. They praised her responsiveness. They said she was always there for them.
But something else was happening too.
People had stopped bringing her half-formed ideas. They waited for her input before making decisions. They hesitated to take risks she hadn’t already endorsed. When a major initiative stalled, the team looked to her, not to each other, for the fix.
When I asked why, one team member shrugged:
“She’s better at it than we are. And she’ll help anyway.”
That’s when Anne Lamott’s line came to mind:
“Help is the sunny side of control.”
It’s a truth leaders rarely see in the velocity of a fast-paced culture. Helping looks generous. Helping feels efficient. Helping feels like leadership.
But often, help isn’t always what it appears to be.
A recent Harvard study on adaptive leadership found that when leaders “over-help,” team problem-solving effectiveness drops by 30%. Not because the leader is wrong—but because the team stops practicing the muscles they need to grow.
We step in because it’s easier than tolerating uncertainty, ours or someone else’s. It’s simpler to fix than to coach. It’s faster to take over than to sit in the discomfort of watching someone learn in real time. It’s easier to armor up than to face uncertainty.
James Hillman argued that growth requires friction—what he called the psyche’s “necessary heat.” When we intervene too early, we cool the fire before anything can transform.
Thomas Moore wrote that genuine care often means allowing rather than adjusting, creating room for people to meet their own experience rather than managing it for them.
In business terms:
Helping too much can quietly shrink the very people we’re trying to grow.
But here’s the good news: the solution isn’t to stop helping. It’s to change how we help.
Consider a slight shift.
Instead of: “Let me take that on.”
Try: “Walk me through how you’re thinking about this.”
Research from the University of Michigan shows that when leaders replace quick solutions with curious questions, team creativity rises by 35%. People think more boldly when they feel trusted to think at all.
This is the hinge: help offered reflexively communicates control; help offered intentionally communicates trust.
The product leader eventually made this shift (coaching helped).
She stopped rescuing and started accompanying.
She coached instead of correcting.
She asked instead of answering.
Within months, the team was making decisions faster. Ownership grew. Innovation expanded. The work didn’t just get done—it got better.
So perhaps Lamott’s warning is actually an invitation.
Help less quickly.
Trust more generously.
Let people experience the dignity of their own unfolding.
Efficiency is what control delivers in the short term.
Capability is what trust builds and what long-term growth is based on.
And in the long run, only one of those creates a culture we actually want to work in.
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If you want a more trusting team, a culture of belonging or a magnetic brand that attracts more of the right customers, I can help. If you'd like to explore if working together makes sense, drop me a line.
