From Herd to Humanity – Shared Leadership in a Divided World
Danielle McKinon, Founder of Eat Sleep Ride, a rural-based charity in Scotland, and a certified Equine Leadership Coach. Part of the global TeachingHorse network, Danielle applies the Diamond Model of Shared Leadership to help individuals and teams lead with confidence through uncertainty.
Shared leadership is more than a concept, it is a living, breathing practice found in the natural wisdom of the herd. Through the TeachingHorse™ approach, this article explores how horses model connection, awareness, and fluid cooperation, revealing powerful lessons for human leaders. By observing how herds move, listen, and adapt together, we discover a path to leadership rooted in presence, relationship, and conscious movement.
The language of the herd
In my work as a facilitator trained in the TeachingHorse™ approach, I’ve learned that leadership, like movement, is never a solo act. Horses embody a way of leading that is both structured and fluid, what we call shared leadership.
The herd moves in the shape of a diamond. There is awareness in every direction, forward, backward, sideways, and inward. Each position in that diamond represents a capability, attention, direction, energy, and congruence that allows the herd to stay connected and responsive, even in uncertainty.
When a shift happens, a sound, a new presence, a change in terrain, the herd doesn’t wait for one horse to command. They sense, align, and move together. No single position is more powerful than another, What matters is the relationship.
For me, learning through horses isn’t just about leadership theory. It is a reminder of what it means to live consciously. To pay attention to what is around you, to move with purpose, and to stay aligned with what truly matters.
“Shared leadership is less about who leads and more about how we move together.”
Lessons in movement
Humans often mistake stillness for stagnation, but in the herd, stillness is strategy. If one horse senses a change in energy, a noise, a smell, a subtle shift in the air, the others pay attention. They move together, communicate through breath and posture, and trust that each has a role to play.
If people understood where others were in their own “herds,” and the capabilities they naturally possess to lead, we could tear down the rigid systems that divide us. Leadership would become less about position and more about participation. Culture would change, not from the top down, but from the centre outward.
A family lesson in listening
In one family session, we set up the arena to mirror the four capabilities of shared leadership. There were cones to represent direction, poles for energy, a box where everyone could pause to find congruence, and a mounting block to hold attention.
Each obstacle became whatever the family needed it to be, not a test, but an exploration. The goal wasn’t to finish, but to notice.
As they moved through the exercise, direction proved to be the hardest part, gathering energy together and listening to one another, especially when everything started to unravel.
When they finally reached the block of attention, I asked the young girl who had stepped forward to lead, “How did it feel to be a leader?”
She said softly, “I can’t hear what anyone’s saying, everyone’s talking at once.”
That simple truth landed deeply. The horses had been calm and coherent, but the humans had been noisy and scattered. It reminded us all that leadership isn’t about doing or directing, it begins with listening and with presence.
Boundaries, belonging, and the need to be liked
I always remember a client in a learning exchange who asked me, “Do they like me?” I smiled and said, “Horses aren’t really about liking you. They’re not judging what you look like or what you’re wearing, they’re assessing whether you’re safe to be around.”
That distinction matters. We miss so many insights because we’re so caught up in how we’re perceived. Yet a horse simply looking up from grazing is already a form of validation, they’ve noticed you, and that’s enough.
Humans crave approval. We turn everything into performance. Through anthropomorphism, we project our own need to be liked onto them, but horses are never acting. They’re feeling, observing, responding.
One man I worked with found this deeply confronting. He was kind, generous, and endlessly accommodating, always fawning, always saying yes. His crises had come from trying to please everyone but himself. Watching the horse calmly maintain its boundary, refusing pressure but offering connection, was a revelation for him.
He told me later, “I never thought being kind could include being kind to myself.”
What divides us
What divides the world right now isn’t only politics or ideology, it’s disconnection. It’s the top-down, tiered approach that rewards dominance and suppresses difference. We sectionalise everything – youth, ageing, gender, mental health, and leadership. We treat vulnerability as weakness and forget that it is actually a bridge.
In the natural world, movement happens through reciprocity. The herd doesn’t fragment itself into silos, it stays attuned. When one shifts, the others adapt. If we led like that, from awareness rather than authority, we would stop competing for power and start co-creating safety.
To the leaders who still believe in hierarchy
If I could speak to every CEO or community leader who believes leadership must come from the top, I’d say this, We don’t heal in isolation. You can’t lead people if you can’t see them.
Shared leadership isn’t about everyone doing everything, it’s about everyone mattering. It’s about recognising that the one at the back sometimes has the best view of what’s ahead, and that no direction holds for long without mutual trust.
“True leadership isn’t control, it’s connection.”
Finding ground again
There are times when I feel that same chaos and polarity that I see in the world. When I’m away from the herd or disconnected from nature, everything feels louder, as if the volume of human noise drowns out intuition.
But when I step into the field, it changes. The horses don’t care about my title, my workload, or my worries. They see me as I am, not as I pretend to be. Their presence reminds me that belonging doesn’t have to be earned, it just has to be felt.
That’s what shared leadership really means, not leading from in front, but moving together, aware, congruent, alive.
“The horses remind me that leadership begins where control ends.”
Read more from Danielle McKinnon
Danielle McKinnon, Equine Leadership Facilitator/ Social Entrepreneur
Danielle McKinnon is the founder of Eat Sleep Ride | Rural-Based Charity in Scotland, a rural charity using horses, nature, and coaching to support disadvantaged and neurodiverse young people. She is a qualified equine-facilitated learning practitioner, coach, and licensed facilitator of shared leadership, working locally and globally to build brave spaces for change. Her work is rooted in lived experience, community care, and the wisdom of the herd.
To explore Danielle's leadership programmes, visit the Leadership at Eat Sleep Ride page at Equine Assisted Personal & Professional Development
