Written by Dr. Elizabeth Kathryn, Intuitive Coach and Healer Dr. Elizabeth Kathryn is an Intuitive Coach and Healer who helps women clear emotional and energetic blocks, awaken their inner power and divine gifts, and manifest soul-aligned lives through her practice, Creating Inner Beauty, LLC. If you have found yourself attracting the same kind of relationship over and over again, you are not alone. Perhaps the relationship begins with intensity, chemistry, and emotional depth. At first, it feels deep and exciting, and you find yourself thinking, “Maybe this is the one!” But eventually, the same painful dynamics begin to emerge. Communication becomes inconsistent. Emotional closeness starts pulling away. You begin overanalyzing texts, questioning where you stand, or trying to regain the sense of connection that felt so strong in the beginning. Over time, this love rollercoaster can become exhausting and deeply discouraging. You begin wondering why you continue attracting emotionally unavailable partners or relationships that feel unstable, and why it never seems to work out. One of the hardest parts is that intellectually, you may already understand the dynamic. Part of you knows you want healthy, emotionally available love. Yet another part still finds itself drawn toward relationships that ultimately create anxiety, confusion, or heartbreak. What I have come to understand through both my own love healing journey and years of working with women is that these relationship patterns are rarely random. Most often, they are rooted in subconscious emotional conditioning, attachment wounds, and beliefs about love that were formed long before you consciously recognized them. The encouraging part is that these patterns can absolutely change once they are brought into awareness and healed. When you do that inner work, you naturally begin attracting healthier and more emotionally aligned love. Why inconsistent love feels so compelling One of the most important things to understand about relationship patterns is that you do not only attract from what you consciously want. You also attract from what feels emotionally familiar to your nervous system and subconscious mind. If you grew up around emotional inconsistency, unpredictability, criticism, abandonment, or conditional love, those dynamics may have quietly become associated with intimacy. Even if they caused pain, they can still feel strangely compelling because they mirror emotional experiences your system learned early in life. This is one reason emotionally unavailable relationships can feel so magnetic. If you carry unresolved emotional wounds, they will quietly shape what feels familiar, attractive, or emotionally real to you. If love once felt uncertain, you may unconsciously associate longing with connection. If affection had to be earned, you may feel deeply drawn toward partners whose validation feels inconsistent or difficult to secure. If emotional closeness once felt unstable, calm and emotionally available love may initially feel unfamiliar, uncomfortable, or even a little boring. This does not mean something is wrong with you. It means your nervous system is still trying to recreate what it recognizes, even while your conscious self desires something healthier. The beliefs beneath the pattern Our relationships show us the emotional wounds within us that are still asking for healing. If you repeatedly attract emotionally unavailable partners, some part of you may also fear true emotional vulnerability or intimacy. If you constantly overgive in relationships, you may unconsciously believe love must be earned through self-sacrifice. If inconsistency from a partner creates emotional obsession, your nervous system may still associate unpredictability with connection. Beneath these experiences are often subconscious beliefs about love, safety, worthiness, and emotional intimacy. You may unconsciously carry beliefs such as: “Love always leaves.” “I have to earn love.” “If I express my needs, I will be rejected.” “Being fully seen is unsafe.” Or “healthy love does not really exist.” Even when these beliefs are not fully conscious, they quietly shape the relationships you allow into your life. While this realization can initially feel confronting, it is also deeply empowering. Once you begin identifying and healing these subconscious beliefs, your relationships naturally begin reflecting the healthier emotional reality you are creating within yourself. Healing the pattern at the root Breaking unhealthy relationship cycles asks you to become willing to look honestly at the emotional wounds, fears, and beliefs that continue shaping your experiences in love. This often involves healing abandonment wounds, strengthening self-worth, reconnecting with your intuition, developing healthier boundaries, and becoming more emotionally honest about what truly feels aligned for you. As you reconnect with yourself, your intuition, your worth, and your emotional truth, your relationships begin changing as well. You become less available for inconsistency. You stop romanticizing emotional unavailability. You begin valuing emotional safety and steadiness just as much as chemistry and passion. As you heal, you begin noticing subtle but profound shifts. Situations that once felt intoxicating begin to feel emotionally draining instead. You become less attracted to inconsistency and more drawn toward authenticity, emotional maturity, and stability. Your intuition becomes clearer, and your standards begin rising naturally. Perhaps most importantly, you begin trusting yourself again. From that place, the relationships you attract into your life become very different, and far more aligned with what you consciously desire. A different relationship with love One of the deepest transformations that occurs through this healing work is the shift from seeking love as validation to experiencing love as resonance. Instead of focusing primarily on whether someone chooses you, you begin paying attention to whether a relationship actually feels emotionally safe, mutual, and aligned. You begin asking yourself different questions. Can I fully be myself here? Do I feel emotionally safe expressing my needs? Am I abandoning myself in order to maintain this connection? Does this relationship support the life and version of myself I am growing into? This shift changes everything. Because healthy love cannot be created through self-abandonment, emotional chasing, or overfunctioning. It becomes possible when you heal the wounds and beliefs that taught you to settle for less than the kind of connection you truly deserve. Magnetize love If you recognize some of these patterns within your own relationship history yet deeply desire healthy, committed, emotionally mature love, know that you are not alone and you can absolutely have the kind of love you truly want. The process of identifying subconscious love blocks, healing emotional wounds around love and worthiness, reconnecting with your intuition, and learning how to align with healthier partnership is the deeper work we explore inside my course, Magnetize Love Heal Your Love Blocks and Magnetize Your Soulmate. Inside the program, I guide women through clearing the emotional and energetic patterns that keep love feeling difficult, unavailable, or inconsistent so they can begin manifesting relationships rooted in emotional safety, authenticity, and genuine alignment. Because when you heal the wounds that taught you to settle for inconsistent love, you naturally begin magnetizing the healthy, soul-aligned relationship you truly desire. Follow me on Facebook, Instagram, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Dr. Elizabeth Kathryn Dr. Elizabeth Kathryn, Intuitive Coach and Healer Dr. Elizabeth Kathryn is an Intuitive Coach and Healer for conscious and spiritual women. With a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology and deep expertise in energy healing, she guides women to heal emotional wounds, reconnect with their intuition and divine gifts, and create soul-aligned, fulfilling lives. Through her practice, Creating Inner Beauty, LLC, Elizabeth blends psychology, intuition, spirituality, and Goddess energy to help women release blocks and manifest empowered, joy-filled lives. She is devoted to helping women reconnect with their divine feminine essence and step fully into their radiant, empowered selves. Related articles: Why Do We Find Stability Boring in Relationships? The Truth About Passion, Intimacy, & Healthy Love The Importance of Self-Love For A Loving and Long-Term Relationship

Written by Kiden Jonathan, Instructor, Author & Public Speaker Kiden is an author, public speaker, and activist originally from Sudan. She has published two books: The Heart of a Lioness: Memoir of a Brave African Woman (2026) and Resilience: The Journey of Self-Discovery (2021). I was born and lived in Sudan before South Sudan became an independent country. In fact, I spent my first 20 years in Juba, Sudan. I loved the classroom. I would debate as much as the topics allowed. I also liked chemistry. Life was great, with trees planted and growing all around us. And then the civil war broke out so violently that it affected me personally. Two hours after the birth of my child, bombs were dropped in Juba. I was terrified, but my mother was so calm. I saw dogs, chickens, goats, and people running frantically. My mom, the baby, and I lay down on the grass under the trees for hours. When things settled a bit, my husband said, “We cannot live here. We need to leave this country.” So, I left two months later with a two-month-old baby. I was 20 years old. My daughter was so beautiful and so innocent that my siblings and I were in awe. I felt grounded watching her breathe so calmly during a time of uncertainty and chaos. Displacement is more than moving from one location to another. I left behind my family, my support system, the fresh, delicious foods that I appreciated, and the land itself. I missed so much of it. In Uganda, my homesickness was deep and constant. I did not know the language, so I had to learn even simple things, like how to ask the price of a tomato. For five years, I also knew very little about how my family was doing. With no reliable source of information, I heard occasional updates only through third parties. During that time, I relied on faith and believed that one day we would meet again. My most desperate moments pushed me to search within myself for answers. I had the courage to leave and begin again. At that time, my ex-husband, Mr. Charm, and I had no trust between us. He had money that he used to start a beauty products business. He only told me about it when he wanted help. My son was three months old when I started working for him. This is one of my best stories of all. In Kampala, I wore slippers at home, on the way to work, and at work. One rainy season, my slippers could not handle the mud, so they broke on the road in the middle of the city. I remember standing at the street corner, tying them together with a string. At that moment, tears ran down my face. The level of humiliation was overwhelming. I said no to these muddy slippers. I said no to silence. So, I walked to the booth, took some money, and bought a pair of shoes. At that moment, I felt dignified. My voice was there, and now I was using it. Never again would I allow myself to be used or humiliated despite my commitment and loyalty. That was my experience in Uganda. I relished the weather in general. The mud was not a problem, I just needed the proper footwear. In central Uganda, temperatures generally range from 25 to 30 degrees Celsius. I might have lost a lot, including family support and the comfort of not being alone. I also had the experience of broken slippers that brought me to tears. However, I gained courage and curiosity. Being a displaced immigrant requires you to travel a journey of soul-searching, asking questions, and knocking on doors. I became a self-advocate because what the government does not give you, you must be willing to speak up about. You have to be persistent and stay on it day in and day out. I also developed language skills to the point where I can communicate with people from different parts of the world. I learned to be self-motivated and passionate about life. Apart from the business, I want to talk about malnourished children. As I have mentioned, civil war comes with starvation. Unfortunately, children and women become victims of senseless decisions. After high school, I worked in a feeding centre for malnourished children. I would weigh them and register them in the program. Nothing gives me joy like seeing these fragile children regain their strength and their smiles. Their mothers are so delighted to see the improvement. I cared for malnourished babies. I gave birth while bombs were dropping, and I was displaced. I’ve been there. And I want to let you know that there is a way out. When your baby is unwell, you seek medical care. When your slippers break, you tie them up. Every day, something happens, and we must address it or find a way out. Most importantly, speak up about the things that bother you internally. Being quiet is not an option. Ignoring the problem does not heal it. I’ve been where you are. Those slippers were worn out before the rainy season came, before the road became muddy. Which road are you walking on? What are you wearing, and how does it feel? Now, I spent seven years in East Africa, between Uganda and the refugee camp in Kenya. I covered my work in Sudan, had my first child, and had the birth of my second child in Kampala during the beauty product business. It came to a halt, and then Mr. Charm ran away to the refugee camp in Kenya. He left me with two little kids, and I became frugal and resourceful. Being a foreigner means that you don’t have documents, it means no job opportunities. Two years later, I traveled to the camp. This time, he was registered. I traveled in a Land Cruiser with my little children, the vehicle was made for rocky roads. Suddenly, I felt the blistering heat. I saw thorny trees and a dusty storm. It was a desert. I wondered what life would be like in such emptiness. Still, I felt encouraged because the Sudanese community had its own fenced area, where we shared the same language, and I did not have to learn another one. South Sudan became an independent country in 2011. I was excited to work as a primary school teacher, where I encouraged girls to attend school and stay there despite the pressure of arranged marriages. Many girls worked all day and had little time for homework. Speaking to the elders was a challenge because they thought that their tradition was the best, so no one should tell them something different. The fact that the elders were resistant didn’t deter me from encouraging and giving guidance to the girls. Attending school regularly is important, and being on time is required. In the refugee camp, despite the heat and dusty storms, the Sudanese community was united. They would work together to make sure that the United Nations would hear our case as a country and as individuals. What inspired me to teach was the desire to help a girl I saw in myself. Being the firstborn of nine, six girls and two boys, meant growing up faster and doing household duties at an early age. Waking up early and going to bed late, I would be too tired for homework. I’ve been where you are! Where is your younger self? And how do you honor her in your later years? In the refugee camp, I learned the power of community. Without newspapers, phones, or income, we had to stay humble and depend on one another. That experience strengthened my persistence, helped me build networks, and deepened my commitment to advocacy. Although I was a teacher, I also served as a community chairperson, speaking up for vulnerable people, including single mothers and unmarried women, so they could receive firewood subsidies from the United Nations. To receive support, we had to present a strong case, and the need was urgent. Women were being attacked when they went to collect firewood, so I argued that the risk was too great and that they needed financial support for safer access to fuel. Civil wars need to be removed from our vocabulary, removed from society altogether. So far, nothing good has come out of them. The only thing I know is that wars destroy lives and livelihoods. Some of them go on for generations, and people don’t understand the impact of their decisions. I’ve been there, leaving for safety, running to find stability, and beginning again! I did that while teaching children and encouraging girls to keep going. I advocated for women in the community. What concerned me was the generational, ongoing civil unrest in society. Nonetheless, we have voices. Let’s continue to do our best. When have you used your voice? And what did you experience? One afternoon, I went to the United Nations and stood in line for an hour in 50-degree heat. I was eight months pregnant with my third child, and as time passed, I became exhausted. When I finally reached the field officer, Manyara, he saw that I was breathing heavily. “You are not supposed to be here, it is too hot for you,” he said. “It is hot everywhere,” I replied. He shook his head and approved my application for Canada. After giving birth, my family and I came to Canada. Follow me on Instagram for more info! Read more from Kiden Jonathan Kiden Jonathan, Instructor, Author & Public Speaker Kiden has had an adventurous journey of migration, from fleeing civil war in Sudan to spending 7 years in East Africa before she landed in Canada. Kiden continued to find opportunities to lead and work with babies, girls, and women during displacement and uncertainty. Kiden had a High school Diploma in Sudan, a College Diploma in Canada, and creative writing with the Shoe Project for immigrant women. Kiden wants to teach self-development courses for immigrant women and moms ages 30-50.

Astrid is an equine-assisted coach and facilitator based in the Netherlands. She helps people reconnect with themselves through the wisdom, presence, and honesty of horses. Her approach focuses on direct experience rather than ‘logic’, allowing insight and transformation to emerge naturally. For Astrid, every encounter between human and animal holds the potential for deeper understanding and connection. Astrid Loriaux, Equine Assisted Coach What first drew you to equine-assisted coaching, and what made you realize this was the work you wanted to pursue? Looking back, I can see that the path toward equine-assisted coaching began long before I knew such a profession existed. Unlike many people in the horse world, I did not grow up with horses. I was already in my thirties when they entered my life. Not long after, I bought my horse, Tinky, who would become one of the greatest teachers I have ever known. What seemed like a simple decision at the time marked the beginning of a journey that would profoundly shape my life. Some years later, equine-assisted coaching appeared through a series of remarkable coincidences. My riding instructor told me she was exploring training in this field, and during the same period, my manager told me his sister had just enrolled in an equine-assisted coaching program and gave me the brochure. The moment I started reading, I knew, this is for me! It brought together my love for horses, my fascination with personal growth, and my desire to help people reconnect with themselves. Some may call it coincidence. I prefer to see it as divine guidance. Looking back, I can clearly see how each step gently led me to the work I do today. What can a horse reveal in a coaching session that might remain hidden in a conversation between two people? One of the greatest gifts horses offer is their ability to respond to what is happening beyond words. In a conversation, we can explain, analyze, justify, or hide behind carefully crafted stories about ourselves. Horses are not interested in those stories. They respond to our energy, body language, emotions, intentions, and authenticity. They often reveal patterns that remain hidden in traditional coaching conversations. Someone may describe themselves as confident and open to new opportunities, yet the horse responds with hesitation, distance, or disinterest, not judging, but simply reflecting something that is present beneath the surface and creating awareness without criticism. They invite people to discover their own truth through direct experience rather than analysis. When a person makes a small inner shift and sees the horse respond differently, the insight becomes deeply felt and memorable. It is not something the coach tells them, it is something they experience for themselves. Horses help us move beyond what we think is true and connect with what is actually present. They meet us exactly where we are, without judgment, and that honest reflection can be profoundly transformative. How do you distinguish between what the horse is communicating and what the client may be projecting onto the experience? This is a fascinating question because it touches on how we create meaning in a coaching session. Personally, I do not think it is relevant whether an experience belongs to the horse or to the client. What matters is what meaning the client attaches to it. Horses respond authentically in the moment, while clients naturally interpret what they see and feel through the lens of their own lives, emotions, and questions. Rather than trying to separate these elements, I invite clients to become curious about what emerges in the interaction. For example, if a client experiences a horse as distant, I am less interested in deciding whether the horse is actually being distant than in what the experience evokes within the client. What feelings arise? What does it remind them of? What insight does it offer regarding their situation? My role is not to tell clients what their experience means, but to help them explore it. Their own insights and discoveries are far more valuable than any interpretation I could impose. Ultimately, whether we call something communication, reflection, projection, or awareness is less important than the transformation it creates. If an experience helps someone see themselves more clearly and opens new possibilities, it has served its purpose. How do horses help people reconnect with themselves and their authentic feelings? One of the greatest challenges in modern life is that we are often taught to think rather than feel. We analyze, interpret, and search for answers in our minds, sometimes losing touch with our emotions, intuition, and inner wisdom. Horses invite us back into that connection. They do not respond to our explanations, stories, or who we think we should be. Instead, they respond to what is genuinely present within us. They encourage a level of honesty that can be both confronting and deeply healing. I recently facilitated a workshop called Coming Home to Yourself. Participants were invited to connect through presence, trust, and feeling rather than thought. What we witnessed was remarkable. Without being called or directed, horses chose to approach people, stay beside them, and follow them. Even horses that were not part of the session joined us of their own accord. Moments like these remind me that authentic connection has a ripple effect. When we reconnect with ourselves and show up openly, something responds. Whether we call it the horse, nature, energy, or the universe, there is a sense that life meets us when we are truly present. To me, that is one of the most profound lessons horses teach, genuine connection begins within ourselves. Where do you see horse-assisted coaching fitting within the wider coaching industry as interest in embodied and intuitive approaches grows? I believe equine-assisted coaching has a unique contribution to make because it naturally moves people beyond talking and into direct experience. Many coaching approaches take place indoors, through conversation. Equine-assisted coaching offers a very different setting. Being outdoors and interacting with a horse takes clients out of their routines and into a more open and receptive state. What makes it particularly powerful is that no previous experience with horses is required. In fact, people with little or no horse experience often approach the interaction with fewer assumptions. Rather than focusing on the horse as an animal, they are more open to experiencing the horse as a responsive partner within the coaching process. As interest in embodied and intuitive approaches continues to grow, I believe people are increasingly seeking experiences that engage the whole person, not just the analytical mind. Horses naturally draw attention to our emotions, body language, energy, and presence. They help transform something we understand intellectually into something we genuinely experience and feel. For me, the value of equine-assisted coaching lies in its ability to create meaningful awareness through direct experience. The presence of the horse and the experiential nature of the work invite clients to discover perspectives and possibilities that may not emerge in a traditional coaching setting. What usually helps a client move from thinking about a problem to actually sensing what needs to change? In my experience, meaningful change rarely starts with finding the right answer. It begins with reconnecting to what we truly feel. Many clients arrive with a good understanding of their situation. They have analyzed it from every angle and can explain in detail what is happening in their lives. Yet when I ask a simple question such as, “What are you feeling right now?” there is often a pause. Quite frequently, the answer begins with, “I think...” That moment is very revealing. It shows how easily we can become disconnected from our emotions, intuition, and the signals of our own body. Rather than encouraging more analysis, I invite clients to turn their attention inward. I may ask, “Where do you feel that in your body?” This cannot be answered through reasoning. It requires presence and a willingness to experience what is happening in the moment. Horses support this process beautifully. They respond not to our explanations or stories, but to what is genuinely present within us. As clients reconnect with themselves, the horse often reflects that shift immediately. What needs to change becomes less of a mental conclusion and more of an inner knowing. I believe people already carry much of the wisdom they are searching for. The challenge is often creating enough stillness to hear it. How do you create enough safety for clients to explore difficult emotions without directing them toward your own interpretation? Creating safety is an important principle in my work. For me, it consists of two equally important elements, physical safety and emotional safety. Physical safety is my responsibility as a coach. I remain attentive to both the client and the horse, observe the horse's body language, and intervene when necessary. Before every session, I explain it simply, the horse and the client are not allowed to hurt one another. A safe environment allows both to relax and engage more openly in the process. Emotional safety is created differently. Here, my role is not to direct, explain, or provide answers. Instead, I focus on holding space with curiosity and presence, allowing clients the freedom to think, feel, and discover for themselves. This is why I work primarily with questions rather than interpretations. Sometimes an entire coaching conversation begins with one simple question, “How was that for you?” From there, clients explore their own experience, and the most meaningful insights often emerge naturally. More input from me is quite often not needed. I believe people feel safest when they do not have to defend themselves, meet expectations, or arrive at the “right” answer. My role is not to tell clients what their experience means, but to create a space in which they can safely discover what it means to them. For me, coaching is not about giving answers. It is about helping people remember what they already know. What does the idea that “the answer is already within you” mean in the way you coach? This belief is one of the foundations of my coaching approach. This does not mean people always know the answer to their question or challenge. Many seek support because they feel stuck, confused, or disconnected from themselves. The answer may be hidden beneath layers of doubt, fear, expectations, old patterns, or simply the noise of everyday life. My role is not to provide answers on behalf of my clients, but to help create the conditions in which they can reconnect with their own inner wisdom and discover what is already present within them. This is one of the reasons I love working with horses. Horses do not offer advice or solutions. Instead, they invite people into a deeper relationship with themselves. Through direct experience, clients often access insights that cannot be reached through thinking alone. I often find that people know far more than they realize. The challenge is not finding the answer, but creating enough awareness, trust, and space to hear it. For me, coaching is not about giving answers. It is about helping people remember what they already know. What would you like people to understand about themselves after experiencing this kind of work with horses? If there is one thing I hope people take away from this work, it is greater self-confidence and the courage to trust their intuition. I do not see my role as telling people what they should do or what their answers ought to be. Instead, I help create the conditions in which their own insights can emerge. Horses are wonderful partners in this process because they invite honesty, presence, and self-awareness. People often arrive with a specific goal or problem they want to solve. Sometimes they leave with the answer they were looking for. More often, however, they leave with an insight they did not expect but truly needed. In my experience, those discoveries create the most meaningful and lasting change. I would love people to realize that they are far wiser, stronger, and more capable than they often believe. When they reconnect with themselves, trust what they feel, and follow that inner knowing, new possibilities begin to unfold naturally. If clients leave feeling more confident, more connected to themselves, and better able to move forward in their lives, then the horses and I have done our job. Follow me on Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Astrid Loriaux

Written by Dr. Hussein H. Rifai, Thought Leader and Chairman Dr. Hussein H. Rifai is a global business leader, investor, and company chairman with more than four decades of experience across 85 countries. He writes on leadership, corporate governance, private equity, artificial intelligence, and international business. There is an assumption in business that I have never completely understood. Someone becomes a successful CEO. They build a large organisation, deliver strong profits, complete acquisitions and develop a reputation as a strong leader. Eventually, they leave executive life, and the natural progression seems to be a portfolio of directorships followed by a chairmanship. It looks perfectly logical on a curriculum vitae (CV). But I don't think it is logical at all. Being a successful CEO does not necessarily make someone a good director. Being a successful director does not necessarily make someone a good chairman. They are three different jobs requiring three different mindsets. I have spent a large part of my career in operations, management, investment and around board tables. I have been an executive, director and chairman. The longer I have done it, the more convinced I have become that we underestimate these differences. A great operator knows how to make things happen. A great director knows how to question whether they should happen. A great chairman knows how to create a board capable of making that judgement collectively. That last skill is much rarer than people think. The skills that make a great CEO Successful CEOs are usually decisive. They have to be. They are expected to solve problems, allocate resources, manage people, negotiate, compete and deliver results. When something goes wrong, everyone looks at the CEO. What are you going to do about it? So CEOs develop a natural instinct to take control. I understand that instinct very well. My own background was heavily operational. Operations teaches you that problems have to be solved. If a factory isn't performing, you fix it. If costs are too high, you reduce them. If a customer is unhappy, you find out why. If the organisation is not performing, you change the organisation. That is exactly the mentality you want from a good executive. But it can be precisely the wrong mentality for a chairman. The chairman is not the CEO of the board This is probably the most common misunderstanding of the role. The chairman is not the CEO of the board. Directors do not work for the chairman. The chairman does not manage them. The chairman should certainly not start managing the company through them. The chairman is first among equals. The authority of the position comes less from the power to make decisions and more from the ability to create an environment in which good decisions are made. That requires a very different personality. As CEO, you may have been rewarded for being decisive. As chairman, sometimes you need to wait. As CEO, you were expected to provide answers. As chairman, you need to ask questions. As CEO, people ultimately followed your decision. As chairman, you need people to reach a collective decision. As CEO, disagreement can sometimes slow execution. As chairman, disagreement can improve judgement. That transition is much harder than it looks. Learning not to have the answer One of the hardest things for successful executives to learn is that they don't always need to have the answer. They have spent decades being rewarded for having one. People came into their office with problems. They solved them. Eventually, it becomes part of their identity. Then they become chairman. Suddenly, their job is not to solve management's problems. Their job is to make sure management and the board are asking the right questions about those problems. That requires restraint. If management presents a major acquisition, the chairman should not immediately start explaining how he would negotiate the deal. The chairman should be making sure the board asks, "Why this acquisition? Why now? What alternatives have been considered? What assumptions support the valuation? What happens if those assumptions are wrong? How much capital are we risking? What are we not being told? What don't we know?" Perhaps most importantly, "Has everybody around this table had the opportunity to express their view?" That last question is where chairmanship begins. The chairman's most important skill is listening People often associate leadership with speaking. I increasingly associate good chairmanship with listening. A chairman should probably spend more time listening than talking. Not passive listening. Active listening. Who has not spoken? Who looks uncomfortable with the decision? Did somebody raise an objection that was dismissed too quickly? Is management answering the question that was asked or a different question? Are two directors disagreeing because they see the facts differently, or because they are working from different facts? Is the CEO becoming defensive? Is the board becoming too comfortable? Those things don't appear in the board papers. They happen in the room. A good chairman notices them. You have to draw out the quietest person Every board has different personalities. There will usually be one or two directors who speak frequently. There will be others who wait. The danger is allowing the most confident voice to become the board's voice. The chairman has to manage that. Sometimes the person who has spoken the least has the most important contribution to make. I have learned that if someone has been unusually quiet during an important discussion, it is often worth asking, "What do you think?" Not because everybody needs equal airtime. But because boards are deliberately constructed with people who have different experiences. There is little point bringing those different experiences into the room if only two people dominate the conversation. The chairman's job is to access the collective intelligence of the board. A chairman must be comfortable with disagreement This is another major difference between operating and chairing. Executives generally seek alignment because eventually somebody has to execute the decision. Boards need something slightly different. They need constructive tension. I become nervous about boards where everybody agrees with everything. If management presents a major acquisition, restructuring, capital raising, or investment and every director immediately agrees, either management has produced an extraordinary proposal or the board is not doing enough work. Good disagreement is healthy. Personal conflict isn't. The chairman needs to understand the difference. Two directors strongly disagreeing about strategy can produce an excellent discussion. Two directors attacking each other personally can destroy one. The chairman's skill is allowing the first while stopping the second. You don't suppress disagreement. You make it productive. A chairman must be able to change his mind This sounds obvious, but I think it is one of the most important qualities of a good chairman. If you walk into a board meeting having already decided the answer, you probably shouldn't be chairing the discussion. You can have a view. Of course you can. Experience exists for a reason. But you must be prepared to hear something that changes it. That can be particularly difficult for successful former CEOs. Confidence was one of the qualities that helped make them successful. But confidence can become certainty. Certainty is dangerous in a boardroom. I have changed my mind many times after hearing a director, executive or adviser make a point I had not properly considered. That isn't weakness. That is exactly why there is a board. If one person always has the answer, you don't need eight directors. The relationship with the CEO is critical Perhaps the most important relationship in corporate governance is between the chairman and CEO. It needs trust. But it also needs distance. A chairman should want the CEO to succeed. The CEO should know that the chairman will provide support when things become difficult. But support cannot become unquestioning loyalty. There will be occasions when the chairman needs to tell the CEO, I don't agree. The board needs more information. We aren't ready to make this decision. You need to reconsider this. Or occasionally, no. If the chairman cannot have those conversations, the relationship is not working. Equally, the chairman cannot undermine the CEO by becoming an alternative management structure. Executives should not be wondering whether they report to the CEO or the chairman. The CEO runs the company. The chairman leads the board. That boundary has to remain clear. Information is power in the boardroom One of the less obvious responsibilities of a chairman is ensuring that the board has access to the information it needs. Management inevitably knows more about the company than directors. The CEO attends management meetings. The board receives papers. Management knows the arguments that occurred before a recommendation was made. The board sees the recommendation. Management knows which assumptions are optimistic. The board sees the forecast. That information imbalance can never be eliminated completely. But it can be managed. A good chairman asks whether directors are getting the whole picture. Are papers arriving early enough? Are alternatives being presented? Can directors speak to senior executives? Can the board obtain independent advice when necessary? Is bad news reaching the board as quickly as good news? And critically, "Is management giving the board information, or managing the information the board receives?" There is a big difference. The chairman must protect the right to challenge A healthy board should be a safe place to ask an unpopular question. That responsibility rests heavily with the chairman. Directors should never feel that challenging management will make them disloyal. They should never feel they need to agree with the chairman to remain influential. They should never be made to feel difficult simply because they ask for more information. The chairman should protect dissent, provided it is genuine and constructive. Sometimes the director asking the irritating question is doing the board the greatest favour. The chairman cannot become too close to management Relationships matter in business. But independence matters too. If the chairman becomes too close to the CEO, the board can slowly lose its independence without anybody noticing. The chairman begins defending management rather than questioning it. Directors become reluctant to challenge the CEO because they know the chairman will intervene. Management recommendations become chairman recommendations. Eventually, the board stops governing and starts endorsing. That is dangerous. The opposite is equally dangerous. A chairman who constantly interferes with management will undermine the CEO. The skill is maintaining enough closeness to understand and support management while preserving enough distance to judge it objectively. That balance is at the heart of good chairmanship. The chairman has to think about the board itself CEOs spend their time thinking about the organisation. Chairmen also need to think about the board. Do we have the right directors? What skills are missing? Have people been on the board too long? Do we have genuine independence? Does somebody understand the industry? Does somebody understand capital markets? Do we have enough financial expertise? Technology? Risk? Customers? International markets? And increasingly, "Do we have directors capable of challenging the assumptions on which our strategy was built?" A collection of impressive CVs does not automatically make a good board. The chairman has to build a team. A great chairman does not need to be the smartest person in the room This may be the biggest difference between executive leadership and chairmanship. The chairman's performance is not measured by individual achievement. It is measured through the effectiveness of the board. That was one of the central principles in the original guidelines for this article. A chairman who dominates every discussion may look powerful. I don't think that makes them effective. A chairman who always has the final answer may look decisive. I would ask why the other directors are there. The best chairman creates a board that is smarter collectively than any individual sitting around the table. That requires confidence without ego. Experience without arrogance. Authority without domination. Perhaps most difficult of all, the ability to allow somebody else to have the better idea. Three very different jobs I think we need to stop treating chairmanship as the final promotion for a successful CEO. It isn't. There is no automatic progression from operator to CEO, CEO to director and director to chairman. They are different disciplines. An operator asks, "How do we make this happen?" A director asks, "Should we make this happen?" The chairman asks, "Have we created the conditions for the board to make the right decision?" The first requires execution. The second requires judgement. The third requires leadership of people who do not report to you. That is a very particular skill. Some outstanding CEOs develop it. Others never do. The mistake is assuming that because somebody successfully ran a large company, they automatically know how to chair a board. They don't. Chairmanship requires learning when to speak and when to remain silent. When to support and when to challenge. When to push for a decision and when to give the board more time. When to allow disagreement and when to bring people together. Most importantly, it requires understanding that your success is no longer measured by what you personally achieve. It is measured by the quality of the decisions the board makes under your leadership. That is why a great CEO does not necessarily make a great chairman. The skills that get you to the top of an organisation are not necessarily the skills required when you finally sit at the head of the boardroom table. Follow me on Facebook, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Dr. Hussein H. Rifai Dr. Hussein H. Rifai, Thought Leader and Chairman Dr. Hussein H. Rifai is a global business leader, investor, company chairman, and thought leader with more than four decades of experience across 85 countries. His career spans multinational corporations, entrepreneurship, investment banking, private equity, and corporate governance, advising boards and business leaders on strategy, mergers and acquisitions, capital raising, business transformation, and international growth. Holding a PhD in Business Administration, Hussein writes on leadership, corporate governance, artificial intelligence, international business and global competitiveness, combining academic insight with practical experience gained at the highest levels of global business.

From Skopje to the United Nations – that's the arc of Karunamaya Vesna Blazhevska's career. She grew up in Yugoslavia, in what is now North Macedonia. She attended High School Josip Broz Tito in Skopje, then studied economics at the Faculty of Economics in Skopje, part of Ss. Cyril and Methodius University. As a student, she played tennis and did gymnastics. Those activities gave way over time to step aerobics and Pilates, a shift she describes as part of a broader interest in balance and well-being that has stayed with her. That early grounding in economics turned out to matter more than she expected. Since 2008, Vesna has worked as a Communications Assistant with the United Nations Department of Global Communications. The role sits at the intersection of two things she cares about: making complicated ideas easier to understand, and staying close to conversations about how the world's resources and opportunities get shared. Why the goals became personal, not just professional Vesna's list of interests reads like a working map of the UN Sustainable Development Goals: climate action, clean energy, quality education, gender equality, responsible consumption, sustainable cities, life below water, and peace. It would be easy to treat that list as a job description. For Vesna, it functions more like a personal checklist. She has said that setting goals does not need to look like corporate planning. In her view, the real long-term goal is inner peace, and short-term goals are the daily steps that get a person there. Applied to her work, that means the SDGs are not abstractions to communicate on behalf of an institution. They are targets she has already adopted for her own life, which makes translating them for others feel less like messaging and more like sharing something she already believes. That distinction shows up in how she talks about progress versus success. She separates the two directly: success, to her, involves ambition, external validation, and material things. Progress is different. It is soulful aspiration and self-transcendence, measured by the person doing the work rather than by anyone watching. A communications career built around global development goals gives her a daily test of that idea, since the work rarely produces applause but does, in her account, produce the kind of quiet satisfaction she is after. A habit that started in 1991 One of the clearest examples of Vesna turning a big idea into a lasting practice is her diet. She became a vegetarian in 1991 and has kept it up for more than three decades. She does not eat meat or fish, though she still eats cheese, eggs, and yogurt. Three decades is long enough that the choice has stopped being a decision and become simply how she lives. She points to it as an example of responsible consumption applied at the smallest possible scale: not a policy position, just a plate. It lines up with the same SDG themes she engages with professionally, but she arrived at it years before those goals existed in their current form, which suggests the values came first and the framework came later. Competing with no one but yourself Asked how she keeps growing after decades in the same kind of work, Vesna points to a simple rule: compete only with your previous self. She treats challenges as something closer to friends than obstacles, and she tries to hold onto what she calls beginner's humility, the idea that her own capacity has no fixed ceiling. That framing also shapes how she describes handling doubt. Her answer is not a five-step method. It is staying calm and not losing her inner peace, even when the details of a given day get difficult. She applies the same logic to setbacks, treating them as the start of an experience rather than a final verdict on the work. Where spirituality fits in Spirituality runs through nearly all of this. Vesna is drawn to the idea of harmony and unity across faiths, the belief that people with very different backgrounds can still find shared values. She names spirituality as the biggest influence on how she works and thinks, more than any single teacher, employer, or credential. It is a quiet thread rather than a loud one. It shows up in how she frames goals, how she responds to setbacks, and how she has chosen to eat for more than thirty years. None of it depends on titles or recognition. For Vesna, that seems to be the point: the work that counts is the work done consistently, whether or not anyone else is measuring it.

Written by Ana Postigo, Airline Pilot, Human Factors Writer & Speaker Ana Postigo is an airline pilot, former CRM instructor, writer, and speaker working at the intersection of Human Factors, neuroscience, and human performance. Drawing on extensive experience in airline operations, she explores how cognition, behaviour, and the systems around us shape decision-making, performance, and safety in complex environments. In aviation, turbulence is not a surprise. It is part of the environment. No pilot takes off assuming smooth air from departure to arrival. Instability is built into the plan. Routes account for variability. Fuel includes margin. Procedures are reviewed before departure. Preparation is not dramatic; it is routine. Leadership operates in a similar climate. Markets shift. Revenue fluctuates. Teams misalign. Deadlines compress. Expectations rise. Beneath strategic decisions sit very human emotions: urgency, frustration, doubt, and responsibility. When volatility increases, leaders often absorb it personally. They push harder. They react faster. They carry more. But endurance alone does not protect clarity. Structure does. Anticipate instability before it escalates Clarity under pressure begins before pressure appears. When disruption hits without preparation, reaction replaces strategy. Cognitive load rises quickly, the ability to assess calmly begins to narrow, and the emotional temperature of decisions tends to rise with it. Anticipation reduces friction. It asks leaders to look upstream: Where does decision fatigue begin? Where do small issues escalate unnecessarily? Where are responsibilities unclear? Preparation does not eliminate volatility. It reduces the shock of it, and that reduction matters because surprise often triggers reactivity. Protect judgment when emotions run high Business decisions are rarely emotion-free. Fear of loss, urgency to perform, frustration with constraints, and impatience with outcomes, these pressures influence perception long before we name them. Under stress, the brain prioritizes threat detection. Emotional reactivity increases while strategic thinking decreases. What feels urgent begins to feel critical. What feels uncomfortable begins to feel dangerous. In aviation, spatial disorientation describes a moment when instinct conflicts with reality, when the body may feel level while the aircraft is descending. In those moments, relying on feeling is risky. So we rely on instruments. Leadership requires instruments too: predefined decision criteria, clear authority lines, structured communication, and escalation pathways. These systems prevent temporary emotional states from steering long-term outcomes. When structure exists, emotion informs; it does not dominate. Build margin before you need it Aircraft are never fueled for the exact distance required. There is always a reserve built into the system because unpredictability is predictable. Many professionals operate without margin, calendars saturated, recovery minimized, attention fragmented. In that state, even minor disruptions can trigger outsized reactions, not because leaders lack capability, but because the system is already operating at the edge. Margin reduces emotional volatility. Time buffers create breathing room. Delegation depth distributes responsibility. Cognitive recovery restores flexibility. Without margin, pressure accumulates into frustration. With margin, pressure is processed. Strength without margin becomes exhaustion; structure with margin becomes sustainability. Train composure to maintain clarity instead of hoping for it Calm is not personality. It is preparation. In high-stakes environments, scenarios are practiced so steadiness becomes procedural. When pressure rises, behavior is not improvised; it is executed. That same principle applies to leadership: difficult conversations prepared in advance reduce anxiety, decision frameworks defined before urgency reduce hesitation, and clear communication standards reduce misunderstanding. Structure minimizes emotional volatility. Preparation sustains clarity. Composure is built before it is visible. Final thought There is a city in Italy, Bologna, known for more than 60 kilometers of covered walkways called porticos. These architectural structures stretch across the city, shielding pedestrians from rain, heat, and wind, not by eliminating the weather, but by reducing exposure to it. The weather does not disappear. But the experience of moving through it changes. Life continues, not because conditions are calm, but because exposure is reduced. Leadership is similar. Pressure will not disappear. Complexity will not vanish. The difference lies in whether every demand lands directly on you or whether you have built systems that absorb part of its force. Turbulence is inevitable. Disorientation is optional. Clarity under pressure is engineered. Follow me on Instagram, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Ana Postigo Ana Postigo, Airline Pilot, Human Factors Writer & Speaker Ana Postigo is an airline pilot, former CRM instructor, writer, and speaker working at the intersection of Human Factors, neuroscience, and human performance. Drawing on extensive experience in airline operations, she explores the factors that shape how people think, decide, communicate, and perform in complex and high-pressure environments. Her work brings together operational experience with research from neuroscience, psychology, and Human Factors to explore decision-making, cognitive performance, resilience, error, and safety. As a speaker, she has contributed to events and conversations with organisations including BAC and Instituto Cervantes, translating complex ideas about human performance into accessible and practical discussions. Alongside her aviation and Human Factors work, Ana is also a children’s author, encouraging young readers to remain curious, pursue their ambitions, and believe in what they can become.

Written by Ana Postigo, Airline Pilot, Human Factors Writer & Speaker Ana Postigo is an airline pilot, former CRM instructor, writer, and speaker working at the intersection of Human Factors, neuroscience, and human performance. Drawing on extensive experience in airline operations, she explores how cognition, behaviour, and the systems around us shape decision-making, performance, and safety in complex environments. Why protecting attention may be one of the most overlooked leadership disciplines. The Sterile Cockpit Rule in aviation was designed to protect pilots’ attention during the most critical phases of flight. The same principle applies in leadership. When the stakes are high, the quality of a decision often depends less on intelligence than on the ability to protect focus. At 10,000 feet, something changes in the cockpit. Conversation stops. Not because pilots are unfriendly. Not because communication is discouraged. But because below that altitude, during takeoff, landing, and other high-workload phases, the margin for error becomes significantly narrower. In aviation, this is governed by the Sterile Cockpit Rule. During critical phases of flight, all non-essential conversation is prohibited. Only communication directly related to operating the aircraft is allowed. The purpose is simple: protect attention when it matters most. When the margin is thin, distraction becomes risk, and attention becomes a safety system. The executive illusion of multitasking and focus In business, particularly at senior levels, constant responsiveness is often mistaken for high performance. Meetings overlap with messages. Strategy discussions compete with notifications. Decisions are made in rooms where side conversations run parallel to the main one. Multitasking is often treated as a capability. Yet neuroscience tells us something different. The brain does not truly multitask. It switches. Each shift, from listening to checking a screen, from one issue to another, requires the brain to disengage and reorient. That process consumes cognitive resources. Under pressure, the cost increases. Working memory narrows. Perception tightens. The ability to process nuance declines. Leaders may feel decisive while their cognitive bandwidth has already shrunk. This is how intelligent executives make preventable mistakes, not because they lack competence, but because attention was fragmented at a critical moment. Human cognition works the same way in every industry. The difference lies in whether environments are designed with that reality in mind. Every organization has its own 10,000 feet You may not operate below 10,000 feet, but every organization has its equivalent of a critical phase. A negotiation that determines strategic direction. A restructuring affecting hundreds of employees. A public response during reputational risk. A boardroom decision with irreversible consequences. These moments require a different level of discipline. Yet they are often handled in environments filled with noise, digital, emotional, and conversational. Phones vibrate. Side conversations emerge. Attention fragments. In aviation, when the stakes rise, behavior changes deliberately. Distractions are removed. Communication becomes precise. Attention becomes singular. Pilots do not rely on willpower. They rely on structure. Protecting cognitive performance High performance is not about intensity. It is about managing cognitive load. Under pressure, the nervous system naturally narrows perception. This biological response is automatic. What is not automatic is the environment leaders create around it. The sterile cockpit principle works because it respects human limitation. It reduces unnecessary input precisely when the brain is under the greatest strain. The most effective leaders understand this. They know when to reduce noise. They know when a moment demands full presence. They know when responsiveness must give way to clarity. Because judgment, especially under pressure, is not automatic. It must be protected. Final thought In aviation, procedures exist because humans are fallible. Even the most experienced pilots rely on structure to protect their thinking when the workload rises. Leadership is no different. Experience, intelligence, and confidence are valuable, but they do not make anyone immune to distraction, pressure, or cognitive overload. What distinguishes high-performing leaders is not simply their expertise, it is their ability to design environments where clear thinking is possible. The sterile cockpit principle is not really about silence. It is about humility. It acknowledges that even capable professionals perform better when the conditions around them support focus. In that sense, the lesson extends far beyond aviation. The leaders who consistently make sound decisions are rarely the loudest or the busiest. They are the ones who know when to slow the room down, remove the noise, and give judgment the space it needs to emerge. Because clarity is rarely the product of urgency. More often, it is the result of disciplined attention. Clear decisions rarely happen by accident. They emerge when leaders protect the conditions for thinking. Follow me on Instagram, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Ana Postigo Ana Postigo, Airline Pilot, Human Factors Writer & Speaker Ana Postigo is an airline pilot, former CRM instructor, writer, and speaker working at the intersection of Human Factors, neuroscience, and human performance. Drawing on extensive experience in airline operations, she explores the factors that shape how people think, decide, communicate, and perform in complex and high-pressure environments. Her work brings together operational experience with research from neuroscience, psychology, and Human Factors to explore decision-making, cognitive performance, resilience, error, and safety. As a speaker, she has contributed to events and conversations with organisations including BAC and Instituto Cervantes, translating complex ideas about human performance into accessible and practical discussions. Alongside her aviation and Human Factors work, Ana is also a children’s author, encouraging young readers to remain curious, pursue their ambitions, and believe in what they can become.

Written by Ana Postigo, Airline Pilot, Human Factors Writer & Speaker Ana Postigo is an airline pilot, former CRM instructor, writer, and speaker working at the intersection of Human Factors, neuroscience, and human performance. Drawing on extensive experience in airline operations, she explores how cognition, behaviour, and the systems around us shape decision-making, performance, and safety in complex environments. Imagine an aircraft departing from Los Angeles with a planned arrival in New York. Shortly after take-off, the aircraft deviates by just one degree from its intended heading. At that point, nothing appears wrong. The systems are stable, the flight path looks correct, and the difference is almost impossible to detect. But that one-degree deviation does not remain insignificant. As the aircraft continues its journey, that slight misalignment compounds over distance. Hours later, instead of arriving in New York, it can end up hundreds of miles away from where it was meant to be. In aviation, this is known as the 1 in 60 rule, a principle that illustrates how small variations in direction, if left unaddressed, can fundamentally change the outcome. When change is not immediately visible One of the greatest risks in both aviation and business is that early shifts rarely produce immediate consequences. A subtle change in priorities, a relaxed standard, or a decision made under pressure may not trigger any alarm. Nothing fails. Nothing breaks. Performance appears stable. But direction has already begun to shift. How organisations lose alignment Organisations do not move off course through one defining moment. They lose alignment progressively, through decisions that make sense at the time, assumptions that remain untested, and short-term adjustments that quietly become embedded over time. Each step feels justified. Together, they reshape direction. By the time the deviation becomes visible, the gap between intent and reality can be significant. The advantage of early adjustment In aviation, deviation is expected, but unmanaged deviation is not. Pilots make continuous, precise adjustments to maintain alignment, not because the difference is critical in that moment, but because they understand the long-term impact of even small variations. The same discipline applies in high-performing organisations. They do not wait for clear signs of misalignment. They create conditions that allow them to detect weak signals early, question direction, and make timely adjustments before complexity increases. The human factor in business At the centre of this is how people interpret and respond to information. Under pressure, the brain simplifies, prioritises speed, and relies on pattern recognition to make decisions efficiently. This is necessary. But it also means that subtle changes in direction can be overlooked, especially when there is no immediate feedback to challenge them. This makes it not only a strategic issue, but a human one. From reaction to system design The real lesson is not simply to correct course, but to ensure that correction happens early and consistently. This requires systems where early signals are recognised, not dismissed, assumptions are regularly challenged and individuals feel able to question direction without hesitation. Because without these conditions, misalignment is not corrected. It becomes normalised. Final thought A one-degree change in direction does not feel significant at the start. But over time, it determines where you arrive. Because the difference between reaching your intended destination and ending up somewhere else entirely is rarely one major decision. It is the accumulation of small misalignments, left unchecked. Follow me on Instagram, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Ana Postigo Ana Postigo, Airline Pilot, Human Factors Writer & Speaker Ana Postigo is an airline pilot, former CRM instructor, writer, and speaker working at the intersection of Human Factors, neuroscience, and human performance. Drawing on extensive experience in airline operations, she explores the factors that shape how people think, decide, communicate, and perform in complex and high-pressure environments. Her work brings together operational experience with research from neuroscience, psychology, and Human Factors to explore decision-making, cognitive performance, resilience, error, and safety. As a speaker, she has contributed to events and conversations with organisations including BAC and Instituto Cervantes, translating complex ideas about human performance into accessible and practical discussions. Alongside her aviation and Human Factors work, Ana is also a children’s author, encouraging young readers to remain curious, pursue their ambitions, and believe in what they can become.

Written by Ana Postigo, Airline Pilot, Human Factors Writer & Speaker Ana Postigo is an airline pilot, former CRM instructor, writer, and speaker working at the intersection of Human Factors, neuroscience, and human performance. Drawing on extensive experience in airline operations, she explores how cognition, behaviour, and the systems around us shape decision-making, performance, and safety in complex environments. In aviation, abandoning an approach is not failure. It is one of the most important decisions a pilot can make. The best leaders understand exactly why. To passengers, it feels unsettling. To an inexperienced observer, it may appear that something has gone wrong. In reality, the go-around is often evidence that something has gone very right. In aviation, a go-around occurs when a pilot decides not to continue with a landing, applying power, climbing away from the runway and preparing for another approach. It is one of the clearest demonstrations of professional judgement in aviation. A willingness to abandon what is no longer working, reassess the situation and create the conditions for a better outcome. What makes this decision so fascinating is that the greatest obstacle is rarely technical. It is psychological. That challenge extends far beyond the cockpit. Why intelligent people continue long after the evidence has changed Most leaders have experienced a version of the same dilemma. A strategy that is no longer producing the expected results. A decision that once appeared sound but is increasingly difficult to justify. A project consuming time and resources despite growing evidence that the original assumptions no longer hold. Yet instead of changing direction, many organisations continue. Not because they are unaware of the warning signs. But because human beings are naturally inclined to remain committed to a course of action once they have invested significant effort, reputation, or resources into it. The more we invest, the harder it becomes to walk away. At some point, the decision is no longer driven by objective analysis. It becomes shaped by the desire to justify previous choices, protect identity, and avoid the discomfort of acknowledging that circumstances have changed. The approach that should have been abandoned quietly becomes the one nobody feels able to question. What the brain does when we have invested too much to stop Neuroscience helps explain why this happens with such consistency, even among highly experienced leaders. The brain constantly seeks consistency. It prefers certainty over ambiguity and familiarity over change. Once we commit to a decision, our brains begin constructing a narrative that supports that choice. We notice information that confirms we are on the right path. We discount information that challenges our assumptions. We become emotionally attached to the decision itself. In many cases, the brain interprets changing direction not as adaptation, but as loss. This is why intelligent, experienced, and highly capable leaders sometimes remain committed to strategies long after the evidence suggests a different approach is required. The challenge is not a lack of intelligence. It is the way the brain naturally responds to uncertainty, and to the threat of having to admit that what was once a good decision has become a costly one. "The problem is rarely a lack of intelligence. It is the brain's natural resistance to admitting that a good decision has become a bad one." Why aviation treats the go around as a success Aviation has long recognised this human tendency, and deliberately trained against it. Pilots are taught from the earliest stages of their training that a go around is not a failure to land. It is a normal, professional operational decision. One that reflects situational awareness, discipline, and the ability to distinguish between two goals that can appear similar but are fundamentally different. The objective is not to complete the approach. The objective is to achieve a safe landing. A pilot who becomes attached to completing the approach may continue despite deteriorating conditions. A pilot who remains committed to the outcome will recognise when the wisest decision is to start again. That distinction, between commitment to a path and commitment to a result, lies at the heart of effective decision making, on the flight deck and off it. The difference between persistence and attachment Leadership has always celebrated persistence. We admire determination, resilience, and the refusal to be deflected from a goal. These qualities matter. But there is a point at which persistence can quietly become something else. Persistence is commitment to a goal. Attachment is commitment to a particular path. The distinction is subtle. But it can determine whether a leader remains genuinely adaptable or becomes gradually trapped by previous decisions. Markets evolve. Teams change. New information emerges. Competitive landscapes shift. The leaders who succeed over the long term are rarely those who cling most tightly to their original plans. They are the ones who remain committed to the destination while staying flexible about the route. "Persistence is commitment to a goal. Attachment is commitment to a particular path. The distinction can define a leadership career." Why great leaders know when to start again One of the most valuable lessons aviation offers to leadership is that changing course should not automatically be interpreted as failure. Sometimes it is the most intelligent and courageous decision available. The strongest leaders are not those who persist regardless of circumstances. They are those who possess the self awareness to recognise when conditions have changed, the humility to reassess their assumptions, and the courage to act before an unstable situation becomes a genuine crisis. A go around does not mean the destination has changed. It simply acknowledges that the current approach is no longer the best way to get there. "Careers, organisations, and strategies are rarely defined by the approaches we abandon. They are defined by the outcomes we ultimately achieve." Sometimes the wisest decision a leader can make is to stop trying to save the approach, and start preparing for a better landing. The runway will still be there. Follow me on Instagram, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Ana Postigo Ana Postigo, Airline Pilot, Human Factors Writer & Speaker Ana Postigo is an airline pilot, former CRM instructor, writer, and speaker working at the intersection of Human Factors, neuroscience, and human performance. Drawing on extensive experience in airline operations, she explores the factors that shape how people think, decide, communicate, and perform in complex and high-pressure environments. Her work brings together operational experience with research from neuroscience, psychology, and Human Factors to explore decision-making, cognitive performance, resilience, error, and safety. As a speaker, she has contributed to events and conversations with organisations including BAC and Instituto Cervantes, translating complex ideas about human performance into accessible and practical discussions. Alongside her aviation and Human Factors work, Ana is also a children’s author, encouraging young readers to remain curious, pursue their ambitions, and believe in what they can become.

Written by Ana Postigo, Airline Pilot, Human Factors Writer & Speaker Ana Postigo is an airline pilot, former CRM instructor, writer, and speaker working at the intersection of Human Factors, neuroscience, and human performance. Drawing on extensive experience in airline operations, she explores how cognition, behaviour, and the systems around us shape decision-making, performance, and safety in complex environments. Most organisations do not fail loudly. They fail quietly, confidently, on a heading nobody thought to question. Kodak invented the digital camera in 1975. They shelved it. Film was profitable, and the future felt distant. By 2012, they had filed for bankruptcy. Nokia held 40% of the global mobile phone market in 2007. When the iPhone arrived, they dismissed it as a niche product. Within five years, their market share had collapsed. BlackBerry was the device of choice for presidents, CEOs, and governments worldwide. They believed their keyboard was irreplaceable. The touchscreen proved them wrong. Blockbuster had the opportunity to buy Netflix in 2000 for fifty million dollars. They passed. A decade later, Netflix was worth billions, and Blockbuster was gone. None of them failed because they lacked talent, resources, or intelligence. They failed because of something aviation identified decades ago and named with devastating precision. Controlled flight into terrain. A perfectly functioning operation. A fully qualified team. Flying straight into terrain nobody saw coming. The name may be unfamiliar. The experience is not. What is controlled flight into terrain? In aviation, CFIT occurs when an aircraft with no mechanical failure, flown by a capable and qualified crew, flies into terrain because the crew has lost awareness of their position. Nothing broke. Nobody panicked. The aircraft was working perfectly. Yet they flew straight into the ground. No single catastrophic decision. No dramatic warning moment. Just a series of small, individually reasonable steps that together produced an outcome nobody intended. The crew lost awareness of the gap between where they believed they were and where they actually were. CFIT does not happen because of bad pilots. It happens because of very human brains without the right systems to catch the gap. Sound familiar? The first blind spot: Past success becomes present blindness The brain is not designed to think fresh every time. It is designed to recognise patterns from the past and predict outcomes based on previous experience. This is one of the most powerful things the human brain does, and in high-pressure environments, it is also one of the most dangerous. When a strategy has worked before, the brain encodes it as reliable. Reliable becomes default. Default becomes invisible. The organisation stops questioning the heading because the heading has always worked. Until it does not. Neuroscience calls this confirmation bias. The brain actively seeks information that confirms what it already believes and filters out anything that challenges it. Under pressure, this filter becomes stronger, not weaker. Exactly when you most need accurate information, your brain is most aggressively selecting for comfortable information. Kodak did not ignore the digital camera because they were reckless. They ignored it because decades of success had made film feel permanent. The second blind spot: confidence is mistaken for competence When a leader becomes highly confident, they begin to assume outcomes. They stop scanning for threats. The questions become fewer. The certainty becomes louder. The gap between what they believe is happening and what is actually happening quietly widens. Research consistently shows that 95% of people believe they are self-aware. The actual figure is closer to 13%. The most confident leader in the room is often the least accurate about where the organisation actually is. This is not a character flaw. It is neuroscience. The prefrontal cortex, responsible for honest self-assessment, is the first area of the brain to be compromised under stress and high workload. The more demanding the environment, the less accurate your internal picture of reality becomes. Certainty increases as clarity decreases. The third blind spot: The authority gradient In organisations where the leader's voice dominates, people adapt. They align with what the leader says, not because they agree, but because they do not see themselves as valued enough to challenge it. When people do not feel valued, they stop being creative. They stop solving problems. They stop seeing solutions the leader cannot see. The most junior person in the room, who may have the clearest view of the terrain, stays silent. In aviation, we identified this pattern in accident after accident. The most senior person in the cockpit was wrong. Nobody said so. Not because the others did not know. Because the culture made speaking up feel more dangerous than staying quiet. This is not unique to aviation. It exists in every boardroom, hospital, financial institution and technology company where challenging upward is career limiting. The terrain approaches in silence. What is actually happening in the brain This is not a leadership failure. It is a brain failure. The brain builds its understanding of the world from patterns, experience and belief. In NLP, we call this the map is not the territory. Every leader navigates from an internal map, built from past success, personal bias and years of experience. When that map no longer matches the reality outside, the brain does not flag the discrepancy. It defends the map. Certainty increases as clarity decreases. The internal narrative strengthens exactly as the external signals weaken. The organisation keeps flying, confident in its heading, straight toward terrain nobody sees coming. What to do about it: Building your GPWS In aviation, our answer to CFIT was not to find better pilots. It was to build better systems. The Ground Proximity Warning System, GPWS, scans the terrain and the position of the aircraft relative to the ground. When the aircraft gets too close to terrain, it issues a mandatory command the pilot cannot avoid and has only seconds to react. Pull up. Terrain ahead. There is no discussion. No committee. No deference to seniority. Just a clear, independent signal that tells you exactly where you are and what you must do. Every organisation that has avoided its own version of CFIT has built an equivalent. Here is what that looks like in practice. Appoint a designated challenger in every major strategic decision, someone whose explicit role is to argue against the prevailing view. Not to obstruct. To pressure test. Create genuinely anonymous upward feedback channels. Not surveys that are traceable. Real anonymity. The signal that tells you what people actually think rather than what they believe you want to hear. Review your last three major decisions specifically for confirmation bias. Ask, what information did we discount? Who raised concerns that were not followed? What would we have needed to see to change course? Bring in an external perspective regularly. Not to validate the existing strategy. To read the instruments independently. An outside eye has no investment in the current heading. Build psychological safety as an operational priority, not a culture initiative. The most junior person in your organisation may be the one who can see the terrain. Whether they feel safe saying so is a leadership decision, not a personality trait. The question worth asking Most leadership teams believe they are self-aware, customer-focused, strategically clear and culturally healthy. The organisations that ran into terrain believed exactly the same things. Without exception. Because the brains involved are human. The question is not whether your organisation could experience CFIT. The question is whether you have built the equivalent of GPWS. The independent signal. The honest voice. The system that tells you where you actually are, regardless of where you believe yourself to be. Because in aviation, the terrain does not move. In business, it does not wait. Follow me on Instagram, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Ana Postigo Ana Postigo, Airline Pilot, Human Factors Writer & Speaker Ana Postigo is an airline pilot, former CRM instructor, writer, and speaker working at the intersection of Human Factors, neuroscience, and human performance. Drawing on extensive experience in airline operations, she explores the factors that shape how people think, decide, communicate, and perform in complex and high-pressure environments. Her work brings together operational experience with research from neuroscience, psychology, and Human Factors to explore decision-making, cognitive performance, resilience, error, and safety. As a speaker, she has contributed to events and conversations with organisations including BAC and Instituto Cervantes, translating complex ideas about human performance into accessible and practical discussions. Alongside her aviation and Human Factors work, Ana is also a children’s author, encouraging young readers to remain curious, pursue their ambitions, and believe in what they can become.

Written by Ana Postigo, Airline Pilot, Human Factors Writer & Speaker Ana Postigo is an airline pilot, former CRM instructor, writer, and speaker working at the intersection of Human Factors, neuroscience, and human performance. Drawing on extensive experience in airline operations, she explores how cognition, behaviour, and the systems around us shape decision-making, performance, and safety in complex environments. The “black box” isn't actually black, and after failure, the truth is rarely as obvious as it looks. When something goes wrong, suddenly everyone knows what should have been done. The warning signs seem obvious, the wrong decision looks avoidable, and the inevitable question appears: How did they not see it coming? Aviation knows how dangerous that question can be. What the black box actually does After a serious accident, investigators don't simply ask people what happened. They reconstruct what happened. The flight data recorder tells us what the aircraft was doing, while the cockpit voice recorder helps investigators understand the communications and environment inside the cockpit. Combined with the rest of the evidence, they help rebuild the reality that existed before anyone knew the outcome. Not simply the story we remember afterward, but the evidence of what was happening at the time. The brain rewrites the story Our memory is not a recording. It is a reconstruction. Once we know how something ended, the brain can quietly alter how we interpret what came before. What felt uncertain at the time starts to feel as though it should have been obvious. Psychologists call this hindsight bias. After a project fails, the warning signs look clear. After an investment collapses, the risks seem glaring. But decisions are not made with hindsight. They are made with incomplete information, competing priorities, assumptions, and genuine uncertainty. That is why understanding failure requires more than asking what went wrong. We need to understand why the decisions made sense at the time. The black box of Silicon Valley Bank When Silicon Valley Bank collapsed in March 2023, more than $40 billion was withdrawn in a single day. Looking back, it is easy to focus on that final moment. But the Federal Reserve's investigation revealed a much longer story. The bank had grown rapidly while its risk management failed to keep pace. Weaknesses in liquidity and interest rate risk had been building for some time, and warning signs existed well before the crisis became visible. The collapse happened fast. The conditions that made it possible built slowly. That gap between the visible event and the accumulation of conditions behind it is exactly what a good investigation needs to uncover. The questions that actually produce learning When something fails, many organisations instinctively ask: Who made the mistake? Accountability matters, but that question alone is not enough. If the conclusion of every failure investigation is simply “someone made a bad decision,” we may replace the person without ever changing the conditions that produced the decision. The questions that produce real learning are different: What did we know at the time? What were we assuming, and why did that seem reasonable? Why did this look like the right decision in that moment? That last question may be the most important because the answer often reveals something about the system, the culture, the information available, the pressures, or the assumptions that is far more useful than simply finding someone to blame. Aviation learned this at great cost. Moving beyond individual error to understand the wider conditions in which errors occur has played an important role in improving aviation safety. Open the black box The next time a project fails or an important decision produces the wrong result, resist the temptation to explain it too quickly. Reconstruct it. Look at what people knew, what they believed, what pressures existed, and which assumptions were driving their decisions. Then ask: Why did this look like the right decision at the time? Because the most valuable lesson from failure is rarely finding someone to blame. It is understanding enough about what happened to avoid creating the same conditions again. The black box doesn't judge the past. It gives us the evidence to learn from it. Follow me on Instagram, LinkedIn, and visit my website for more info! Read more from Ana Postigo Ana Postigo, Airline Pilot, Human Factors Writer & Speaker Ana Postigo is an airline pilot, former CRM instructor, writer, and speaker working at the intersection of Human Factors, neuroscience, and human performance. Drawing on extensive experience in airline operations, she explores the factors that shape how people think, decide, communicate, and perform in complex and high-pressure environments. Her work brings together operational experience with research from neuroscience, psychology, and Human Factors to explore decision-making, cognitive performance, resilience, error, and safety. As a speaker, she has contributed to events and conversations with organisations including BAC and Instituto Cervantes, translating complex ideas about human performance into accessible and practical discussions. Alongside her aviation and Human Factors work, Ana is also a children’s author, encouraging young readers to remain curious, pursue their ambitions, and believe in what they can become.

Written by Mohamed Ahmed Fouad Amin, Founder of WeValue & WeValue AI Mohamed Ahmed Fouad Amin is the founder of WeValue and WeValue AI, a UAE-based real estate valuation professional, entrepreneur, and author. He writes about property investment, leadership, and the role of artificial intelligence in real estate. Through my years of work in real estate valuation and investment, I have learned that true value is not always measured by what the eye can see. When we value a property, we do not look only at the facade, the size, or the building itself. We look deeper at the quality of the asset, its management, operations, sustainability, user experience, and all the less visible factors that ultimately create real value. From that perspective, I recently found myself valuing something other than a property. I found myself valuing a corporate culture. My experience with Orange Egypt led me to reflect on an idea that I would describe as the Management Air Theory. We do not see air, but we immediately feel its quality when we breathe it. Management works in much the same way. A customer may never meet the global CEO of a company, sit with its board of directors, or know anything about the discussions taking place among its senior executives. Yet, in the end, the customer feels their influence. They feel it in the employee’s tone of voice, in the way they are welcomed, in the level of respect shown to them, in the attention given to their concerns, in the speed of the response, and in the ability to listen before replying. They feel it in whether the company treats them as merely an account number or phone number, or as a person whose voice and experience genuinely matter. This is what I call management air. "We do not see air, but we immediately feel its quality when we breathe it. Management works in much the same way." The air starts at the top In my view, success and the culture of interaction within companies are much like the air that fills a building. Management air begins with senior leadership. It then travels through executives and managers, moves into departments and branches, and gradually becomes part of the personality and behavior of the employee who ultimately interacts with the customer. If leadership believes in listening, listening spreads. If leadership believes in respect, respect becomes part of the organization’s language. If leadership values accountability, responsible behavior becomes natural rather than forced. That is why, when I see a consistently positive experience inside a large organization, I do not consider it a coincidence or simply the result of one good employee or one capable manager. "By nature of my profession, I look for the underlying asset that created the value." Christel Heydemann: When leadership becomes culture This is where I believe the greatest appreciation should begin: with Christel Heydemann, Chief Executive Officer of Orange Group. Managing a global group of this scale does not mean personally following every call or knowing every situation that takes place in every branch. True leadership is the ability to build a corporate culture that travels without being seen. That culture starts at the highest level of the organization, moves across countries and markets, and eventually appears in something as simple as an interaction between an employee and a customer. "When a customer can feel the culture of a CEO they have never personally met." From my own experience, I believe that what happens within Orange Egypt cannot be completely separated from the broader culture of the Orange Group and the way it is led. That is why my thanks to Christel Heydemann are not ceremonial. They are an acknowledgment of a management culture whose impact, as someone professionally trained to assess value, I can see reflected in the final customer experience. Hesham Mahran: Turning culture into reality Then comes local leadership. Here, I extend my appreciation to Hesham Mahran, CEO and Managing Director of Orange Egypt. Global values have little meaning unless local leadership can translate them from written principles into daily practice. Strategy must become behavior. Values must become actions. Speaking about the customer must become genuine care for the customer. This layer of leadership is essential because the success of any global corporate culture ultimately depends on the ability of local leadership to preserve it, adapt it, and strengthen it within the market it serves. Merit Nader: When listening becomes part of management I would also like to extend special thanks to Merit Nader. Corporate culture cannot be judged solely through official statements or brand messages. It is judged through the people who represent the organization at the moment of real human interaction. Good listening, proper follow-up, attention to detail, and the ability to make a customer genuinely feel that their voice has been heard are, in my view, among the most important indicators of management quality. An organization that knows how to listen usually knows how to retain the trust of its customers. Janet, quality manager: When quality becomes a culture Special appreciation also goes to Janet, the quality manager. Quality is not simply a department, a checklist, or a set of internal procedures. Real quality is reflected in the customer’s experience. It is visible in consistency, follow-up, professionalism, and the ability of an organization to maintain its standards across different levels of interaction. A strong quality manager therefore plays an important role in ensuring that management values do not remain theoretical principles but are translated into measurable and consistent standards. This is another important link in what I describe as the Management Air Theory: leadership creates the culture, management carries it, quality protects it, and employees ultimately deliver it to the customer. Amira Ayman: When management air reaches the branch This is where another very important part of the experience appears: Amira Ayman, the shop manager. A shop manager may appear to be far removed, in organizational terms, from the office of a global CEO. But to me, this is exactly where the theory can be tested. When, at branch level, you find a manager who behaves professionally, listens carefully, follows up, and represents the company well, this is not merely a reflection of that individual’s qualities. It is also evidence of the management chain that carried that culture all the way to the branch. For me, Amira Ayman represents a practical example of the Management Air Theory. The culture that starts with senior leadership must eventually reach the exact place where the customer stands in front of an employee. "When it arrives there with the same quality, the organization has passed one of the most difficult tests in management: turning culture from words into behavior." From valuing real estate to valuing organizations In real estate valuation, two buildings may be very similar in location, size, and age. Yet one may deserve a higher value. Why? Because it is better managed, better maintained, provides a better user experience, and has a stronger reputation. In other words, there is an invisible value inside the asset. I believe the same principle applies to companies. Two companies may offer similar services. Their pricing may be comparable. Their technology may be similar. Their products may compete directly. Yet the customer can feel an enormous difference between them. Very often, that difference is not in the product itself. It is in the air people breathe inside the organization. The value of management air So, if I were asked to create a model for valuing organizations, I would add one new factor: the value of management air. I would ask: What do employees breathe inside this organization? Trust or fear? Accountability or indifference? Listening or ignoring? Humility or arrogance? A genuine desire to solve a problem, or simply a desire to close a transaction? "The customer may never enter the boardroom. But in the end, they breathe the air that comes from it." Special thanks to Christel Heydemann So, I return to where I began: special thanks to Christel Heydemann. I believe one of the greatest measures of leadership is not only what happens inside the leader’s office or the figures published in annual reports, but also the type of culture that spreads throughout an organization even when the leader is not physically present. When the culture of a global company can travel from its top leadership to its leadership in Egypt, through management and quality, then to a shop manager in a branch, and finally become visible in the customer experience, that is something worth recognizing and studying. Thank you, Christel Heydemann. Thank you, Hesham Mahran. Thank you, Merit Nader. Thank you, Janet, the quality manager. Thank you, Amira Ayman, the shop manager. Thank you to every Orange employee who understands that a brand is not built by advertising alone. It is built in every small interaction between an employee and a customer. "True leadership may never be seen by the customer, but its impact can still be felt in the air they breathe." A special message of appreciation from WeValue On behalf of WeValue Real Estate Valuation & Consultancy and WeValue AI, I would also like to extend our sincere appreciation and special thanks to Orange, its leadership, management, and teams. As companies that believe deeply in innovation, professional standards, technology, customer experience, and the long-term value of trust, we recognize that strong organizations are built not only through products and technology but also through people, leadership, quality, and culture. For this reason, WeValue and WeValue AI extend their appreciation to Orange Group and Orange Egypt, and particularly to Christel Heydemann, Hesham Mahran, Merit Nader, Janet, Amira Ayman, and the wider Orange team, for representing a management culture that places listening, professionalism, quality, and respect at the heart of the customer experience. From one organization focused on creating and measuring value to another global organization that has built substantial value through its people and culture: thank you, Orange. "WeValue believes that value is not only something that can be calculated. Sometimes, value is something that can be felt." When good management becomes part of the atmosphere of an organization, that value reaches far beyond numbers. Follow me on Facebook and Instagram for more info! Read more from Mohamed Ahmed Fouad Amin Mohamed Ahmed Fouad Amin, Founder of WeValue & WeValue AI Mohamed Ahmed Fouad Amin is a real estate valuation professional, entrepreneur, and author based in the United Arab Emirates. He is the founder of WeValue and WeValue AI, bringing together real estate expertise and technological innovation in property valuation. His experience spans real estate consultancy, business development, and investment analysis. Through his writing, he explores property investment, entrepreneurship, leadership, and the evolving role of artificial intelligence in real estate. His work focuses on helping clients and readers make informed property decisions.