Failure as Leverage
Photo by Tim van der Kuip on Unsplash
When we met, James had a strange mixture of relief and disbelief on his face.
A month earlier, his company had gone under. A brutal combination of overextension, poor timing, and an industry downturn had left him filing for administration as COO.
For weeks, he’d been replaying every decision.
Every “yes” that should have been a “no.”
Every blind spot.
Every late night call that ended with him staring into the dark ceiling, wondering how it all unravelled so fast.
And yet, here he was, shortlisted for another COO role at a firm three times the size of his last.
“David,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t get it. Why would anyone want to hire the guy who just failed?”
I smiled. “Because scars tell a story that clean CVs never can.”
We spent the next hour unpacking this paradox. Focusing on five key points
Resilience is proven, not theoretical
There can be pattern recognition from hard lessons
Humility brings emotional maturity
You can fail and still have credibility with teams and investors
Stebacks can make you more innovative
After this unpacking, we debriefed, and I left him with some thoughts.
“You’ve already been tested. You didn’t just study case studies in a leadership programme, you lived through one. When the next storm hits, you won’t freeze. You now have muscle memory that many executives don’t.”
He nodded slowly, the lines on his face softening.
“You see things now that you couldn’t have seen before. The risks of growing too fast without measuring. The quiet signs of fatigue in a team. The overconfidence in forecasts. That kind of vigilance is what boards pay for. It makes you the one in the room who spots the iceberg before the others.”
He gave a short laugh. “So my mistakes become my radar.”
“Exactly,” I said. “And let’s be honest, your first taste of success in your maiden role made you arrogant. This failure has humbled you. You listen more. You ask better questions. Boards know that. They don’t just want skill, they want leaders who’ve been stripped of ego.”
He leaned back, thoughtful.
“You’ll also find your teams will trust you more. People don’t follow perfect leaders, they follow honest ones. If you stand up in front of them and admit,
‘I know what it’s like to get it wrong, and here’s what I’ve learned:” You’ll win more loyalty than someone who pretends they’ve never stumbled.”
“And don’t underestimate this,” I added. “Your collapse might be the soil for your next big idea. Leaders who have failed are more willing to take calculated risks. They are more open to new models, and because you’ve seen the cost of playing it too safe or too proud, you are more innovative. True innovation often comes from people who have no illusions left.”
By the end of the session, his posture had shifted. He walked in burdened by failure; he walked out carrying leverage.
When the interview panel asked him about the collapse, he didn’t dodge it. He owned it, named the lessons, and reframed it as the very reason he was prepared for this next challenge.
A month later, he called me again.
“I got the gig.”
And there was silence on the line for a moment before he added,
“Turns out failure really was my leverage.”
The True Fiction series is not one individual’s story but a blend of the many conversations I’ve had with senior leaders as an executive coach. The specific scenarios are fictionalised, but the lessons are very real.
If you’re a CEO or COO navigating tough transitions—or you’re preparing for the next big leap after a setback, this is the work I do. Together, we turn experience (both wins and losses) into clarity, resilience, and leverage.
Let’s discuss how I can support you on your leadership journey.
