MSI Press Blog

  Leadership isn’t just about decisions; it’s about disposition. The Three Hs—Humility, Hubris, and Humor—tell you whether a leader’s strength is real or performative. 1. Humility Weak leaders mistake humility for weakness. They avoid it because it threatens their image of authority. When they do display it, it’s strategic—performed to appear relatable. Strong leaders live humility as awareness, not apology. They know their limits, invite expertise, and treat correction as collaboration. Humility in strong leaders says, “I’m confident enough to learn.” In weak leaders, it says, “I’m pretending to listen.” 2. Hubris Weak leaders use hubris as armor. They inflate their certainty, dismiss dissent, and confuse dominance with respect. Strong leaders recognize hubris as a warning sign. They keep ambition tethered to accountability and success anchored in service. Hubris blinds weak leaders to reality. Strong leaders use self‑awareness to keep ambition in focus. 3. Humor Weak leade...

  I never set out to be a mayor. But then I watched my cat run the household with absolute confidence, and I realized: I’ve been studying local governance all along. Here’s what my cat taught me about leadership, diplomacy, and the art of keeping a community running smoothly. Constituents want to be seen. My cat greets every resident — feline, human, or passing spider — with the same solemn acknowledgment. A slow blink is his version of a handshake. I learned that sometimes a nod, a glance, or a “I see you” is all a citizen needs. Hold office hours. My cat has designated times when he is available for petitions: usually when I’m trying to read, type, or sleep. I adopted the principle, minus the timing. A mayor must be accessible, even if the constituents show up with odd requests. Infrastructure matters. My cat inspects every walkway, windowsill, and cardboard box for structural integrity. He reports deficiencies by sitting on them. I learned to do the same — minus the sit...

  My cat has no concept of boundaries — emotional, geographic, or social. Naturally, this has improved my standing on the block. He introduced me to everyone. Not by choice. He simply walked into their yards, porches, garages, and once, their SUV. I had to follow with apologies and small talk. Boom: instant community. He forced me to be observant. If a neighbor’s window is open, he’s in it. If their door is ajar, he’s halfway through. I now notice things like “Your gate latch is loose” or “Your Amazon package has been sitting out since Tuesday.” He taught me diplomacy. Nothing builds negotiation skills like retrieving a cat who has decided he lives with the people across the street now. He made me generous. When your cat eats a neighbor’s plants, you show up with muffins. It’s the law. He softened the block. People who never spoke now wave at me because they know my cat. Some even ask about him by name. I’m basically the cat’s plus-one in my own neighborhood. My cat ...