Control is Not the Same as Competence
image: Martin Sanchez via Unsplash
Why leaders who hold everything together may be holding their teams back.
A few years ago, I worked with a founder whose company was on the verge of something big—its first $10M year. Momentum was real. Big clients. Product buzz. A wide-open market.
And then — just before the breakthrough — things would stall.
Deadlines slipped. Sales slowed. Leaders hesitated. At first, I chalked it up to the chaos of growth. Startups live in a constant state of detour. But over time, I noticed a pattern.
This founder was talented. Smart, driven, and deeply committed. He was also everywhere. If his head of product started describing a plan, he’d jump in with “a better way.” If sales drafted a proposal, he’d rewrite it before the client saw it. If strategy decks were in progress, he’d hover like a hawk.
From his perspective, he was safeguarding the company. To him, this was leadership — protecting the mission by personally steering every turn.
The moment it clicked
After a leadership retreat, I asked him, “What does your team need to do to win?” Silence. Then: “I don’t know.” A pause. A shift. “I think… I have to let them.”
It wasn’t the market. It wasn’t the product. It wasn’t strategy. It was him. More specifically, the belief he carried: If I’m not in control, we will fail.
The paradox
Early on, being in control is often the reason a business survives. You have the vision, the standards, the urgency. But what works at $1M doesn’t work at $10M. And it certainly doesn’t work at $50M.
If everything routes through you, the company can only move at the speed of your personal capacity. That’s the ceiling. And the higher you go, the heavier that ceiling becomes.
Why control feels like competence
Control looks productive. Decisions get made. Problems get solved. Mistakes get avoided. But there’s a hidden cost… your team stops growing.
If you always catch the ball before it hits the ground, they never learn to catch it themselves. And that’s the only way they become the kind of people who can carry the game without you.
The quiet beliefs that keep you stuck
This isn’t usually about ego. More often, it’s about well-intentioned beliefs:
If I don’t do it, it won’t be done right.
We can’t afford to make mistakes.
I want them to take ownership… just not in the wrong way.
These sound responsible (even admirable). But they quietly set a growth ceiling. If success isn’t shared and clearly defined, your people won’t take real risks. Without risk, innovation slows. And without innovation, growth turns into maintenance.
“But what if they fail?”
They will. Not every choice will be right. Not every plan will land. Not every risk will pay off. That’s not a problem… it’s the process.
High-functioning teams aren’t built on perfect execution. They’re built on the capacity to try, learn, adapt, and try again.
Letting go without losing control
Letting go isn’t abdication. It’s a conscious transfer of responsibility, paired with clarity and support. A few places to start:
Define success together. If “whatever the boss wants” is the only measure, people will play defense.
Hold your opinion. In meetings, hear their ideas before you share yours.
Allow low-stakes failure. Give room to experiment in ways that won’t sink the ship.
Stop “just fixing it.” Feedback teaches; re-doing silently teaches dependence.
The shift
At some point, your role stops being “make every play” and becomes “build the team that can win without you.” That’s leadership competence — creating the conditions for other people to thrive.
It will feel risky. It will feel slower at first. You’ll watch mistakes you could have prevented. But you’ll also watch people grow into leaders themselves. And when that happens, you’re no longer the ceiling. You’re the foundation.
You don’t win championships by keeping your best players on the bench.
Sometimes the most competent thing you can do is hand them the ball… and step back.
