Lessons in Leadership from a Horse (named Rosie)

I indulge myself in thinking I know something about leadership. I’ve been doing it for more 20 years and even make a living helping other leaders be their best. So, I wasn’t expecting I’d learn much from a 3-year-old horse until 30 minutes and a very bruised ego later.

I was recently offered an opportunity to experience a leadership program delivered by perhaps New Zealand’s best known horse whispering pair, Sam and Andrew Froggatt and their NZ based business Lead the Way. I was enthusiastically joined by cricketing legend and founder of The Leadership Playground Belinda Clark, Associate Professor of Behavioural Economics from Monash University, Dr Anke Leroux, and Adeption colleague (and brother), Andrew McIver.

“The horse is a mirror to your soul and sometimes you might not like what you see”

Despite my scepticism of what I might learn about leadership from a horse, I quickly realised that the value and insight go well beyond metaphor. American horse trainer, Buck Brannaman is credited with saying, “The horse is a mirror to your soul and sometimes you might not like what you see”. I learned a lot from a beautiful mare called Rosie (not as sweet as the name suggests), and here are my top reflections.

Words aren’t what matters when it comes to resolve

There was a significant moment about 20 minutes into the session; leading up to that point there had been steady progress as I’d mastered the seemingly basic task of leading and stopping the wilful horse using hand and body gestures.?It was a hard-fought win; I was proud and getting comfortable with the horse-human communication dynamic.?

While I plucked up the courage to move to the next activity – getting Rosie to back-up on my command – that aforementioned “significant moment” arrived.?As I walked towards her making the appropriate gesture, she remained steadfast resulting in my body colliding into her. Bouncing off her wide chest, my confidence took a dive; I immediately retreated to the comfortable space of leading and stopping where I felt success was certain.

Moments later, I heard the voice of Andrew F. (he has eyes in the back of his head apparently), he’d been watching from the other side of the arena: “Try something different, but don’t give up even if you have to stay here all day.” He reminded me that the moment I give up, I’m telling Rosie that my resolve is “up for discussion” and that following my lead is optional. I immediately learned he was right because as I retreated back to the basic lead and stop activity, Rosie became indignant and immobile. I was back to square one.

Horses are powerful animals and not only in the physical sense. They pick up the invisible cues in our body language and as much as I was using the appropriate gestures I’d learned from Andrew, something told Rosie that I had hesitance, that I lacked belief in my own intent. It was only later, watching myself in a video I began to understand what Rosie was seeing; stooped pose, avoiding eye contact, I looked more like a tired 19-year-old trying to sneak out of the pub without his friends noticing.

Vulnerability is not for the faint-hearted

This may shock you but it seems that Rosie didn’t fully appreciate who I was. She hadn’t bothered to check my LinkedIn profile so was strangely unaware of my job title and how important it makes me. She was seemingly oblivious to the impressive 2120 followers in my network. I even began to sense some indifference to my freshly-pressed, moleskin shirt and the effort I’d taken to find footwear that closely resembled actual cowboy boots (all to the delight of my colleagues).

I’ve been working on my mask for decades now and thought I’d perfected the art of showing people what I want them to see. It’s my most important item of PPE and it keeps me safe everyday out there in the world. I’ve certainly had the unpleasant experience of people seeing through my mask, but it’s taken them months or even years to achieve. But Rosie was different. With nothing more than a look in the eye she took seconds to strip away my protection and leave me exposed, vulnerable. She brought to the surface my fear and insecurity, drawing me well beyond my comfort zone, seeming more attuned to my emotional vibrations than my gestures or commands.

"I needed to sit with my vulnerability long enough for my comfort zone to catch up"

While the horse leader experience was deeply uncomfortable in many ways, I was able to push through largely because of Rosie. While she found it easy to strip away the falseness in my identity, she also had little trouble accepting the flawed human she found underneath. The total lack of judgement on Rosie’s part gave me the courage I needed to sit with my vulnerability long enough for my comfort zone to catch up – well maybe it never quite did, but the sense of authenticity was liberating. I didn’t need to pretend with Rosie. It made me think of the role we each play in creating a safe learning environment for others; accepting and encouraging vulnerability, without judgement. Failure without blame.

Real growth takes place in real situations.

I was able to learn more from a horse in 30 minutes than I have on a good day in a classroom. How is this possible?

In his “Back to the Future” paper, Carl Sanders-Edwards reminded us that it was the challenging physical environment that forced early humans to learn, adapt and grow.

“Everything we needed to grow was embedded in the environment we lived in”.

The experience with our horses brought this out for us. The physicality of the situation and the sense of danger we experienced wrestling a 600kg animal meant there was really something at stake and we need to be 100% present in the moment. We had the opportunity to try, fail, then with the use of videos step off the “dance floor” and go up onto the “balcony” to view ourselves from the outside.?Most importantly we had a chance to socialise and share over lunch and concoct new experiments to test in the next session.

Learning is less about content and knowledge than it is about a mindset and an endless iterative process. Sometimes I think we get lazy and become passive, waiting to be spoon fed, but growth opportunities are there for us every day in unexpected forms, like Rosie (who I imagine was secretly impressed with my cowboy boots).

Special thanks to Andrew and Sam for the gift of this growth experience. Please connect with them directly at [email protected] to learn more about their incredible work in Australia and New Zealand.

Huge gratitude also to Roberta McLeod and Marcus Oldham College for hosting us at their facilities and for giving us the opportunity to work with the amazing Rosie and her friends.