Before we get into it, I want to acknowledge the heartbreaking events unfolding in Los Angeles—the anti-ICE raids and the escalating use of force now being deployed by the Trump White House in an attempt to control them. These are moments that test the soul of a country. It’s time for all of us—on both sides—to pause, take a breath, and choose a better path than violence in our own city streets. We must do better.
Dear Thomas, James, and Margot,
There’s a truth I’ve come to understand over the years—one that has served me in business, in leadership, and in life—and I want to pass it along to you: You can either be right, or you can be effective. Rarely are you both at the same time.
That might sound strange at first. After all, we grow up being taught the value of being right. In school, the right answer earns you the grade. In debate, the correct position wins you the argument. In conversation, being right feels like validation—that your thinking, your preparation, your logic is superior. But I need you to understand that real life is not a test to be aced or an argument to be won. It’s a journey of outcomes. And the people who shape the world, the ones who leave it better than they found it, are rarely those who obsessed with proving themselves right. They are the ones who learned how to be effective.
Being effective means focusing on what actually matters—on the result, on the impact, on the change you’re trying to create—rather than on the performance of being correct. It means knowing when to speak and when to listen, when to hold the line and when to let go. It means recognizing that your ego is the enemy of progress more often than not. And it means understanding that getting what you want doesn’t always come from force of argument but from the subtle art of influence, patience, and clarity of purpose.
I learned this lesson the hard way in my early years running companies. Like anyone, I took pride in my ideas. I worked hard to develop good instincts and clear logic, and when I believed I was right, I wanted that to be known. But time and again I found that insisting on being right—pressing my point to the edge—didn’t always move the work forward. It didn’t build trust with my team. It didn’t create the environment I wanted to lead in. I realized that my job wasn’t to win arguments. It was to get results. And to do that, I needed to care more about the outcome than about my own pride.
Effectiveness, I came to believe, is a form of wisdom. It’s the ability to keep your eye on the long game. It’s the strength to hold your ego in check so that your energy can be spent on building something that lasts. It’s the grace to let someone else’s idea lead when it’s the best one in the room, and it’s the courage to admit when you’re wrong because being wrong is nothing compared to being stuck.
Don’t get me wrong—there will be times in life when you must stand your ground. You will have principles that should never be compromised. Your convictions will matter more than any result, and in those moments, being right and being true to yourself will align. But those moments are the exception. Most of life is not about defending your correctness—it’s about making progress, solving problems, and moving forward with others.
I hope you grow up to be people of integrity, people with ideas and conviction. But I also hope you grow into people who are effective. People who make things happen. Who build bridges instead of burning them. Who understand that being effective doesn’t mean compromising your values—it means understanding how to apply them with skill, with timing, and with an eye toward impact.
There will be moments when you’ll feel that familiar urge to prove yourself—to press your point, to win the conversation, to show that you were right all along. In those moments, I want you to pause. Take a breath. And ask yourself the question I’ve asked a thousand times: Do I want to be right, or do I want to be effective?
If you choose effectiveness, I promise you, you’ll go further. You’ll lead better. You’ll build more meaningful relationships. And over time, you’ll find that you accomplish more than you ever would have by clinging to your ego.
Let others chase the need to be right. You—be the one who gets it done.
Love,
Dad
If today’s episode made you think a little differently about leadership, power, or the quiet strength of letting go—send it to someone you admire. Someone who leads not by force, but by example.
I publish short episodes every weekday and a letter to my kids every Monday—well, most Mondays. Subscribe on Substack, Apple, or Spotify to stay connected. And if this message resonates with your path, a rating or review means a lot.
Until next time—don’t chase the need to be right. Chase the need to make things better. And remember: the best leaders don’t just win—they lift others as they go.
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