This evening, I spent close to an hour browsing through articles on high-performing leaders, teams, and team members. The focus seems obsessively on the term “high-performing,” creating a paradox where it feels like if you’re not in that category, you’re somehow not needed. Playing devil’s advocate here—what do these writers expect an average person to feel when they read such posts? Do they hope readers get motivated to strive for higher performance, or are they simply producing content that aligns with a trendy notion? Sometimes, it feels rather perplexing.

When I graduated, the focus was straightforward: secure a job, earn a good salary, and perform well. Over the years, the emphasis shifted to working more efficiently, building better software, and ensuring transparency—focusing on creating impact. That impact brought promotions, awards, and pay raises. Life felt simpler then, where doing your job meant completing tasks, checking in code, and hoping your hard work would be recognised. Even those who excelled in their careers would often turn to articles on high-performance, attempting to learn and adapt. But here’s where it gets tricky: some end up changing themselves entirely based on a single article. And trust me, that happens.

There’s a delicate balance between improving oneself and changing oneself based on external influences. Say, for instance, someone reads about how high-performing team members often have high emotional intelligence (EQ). If they think, “Yes, I could work on that,” and genuinely improve, that’s wonderful. But what if another person, who is naturally cautious and detail-oriented, reads that optimism is key to high performance? Imagine them trying to become more optimistic, neglecting their strength of careful analysis, and ultimately making mistakes. By following a generalised recommendation, they lose a vital part of themselves and fail in the process.

This is the danger of losing your authenticity in an effort to conform to generic advice. We must read with a discerning mind, assessing whether a piece of advice truly applies to us. A recommendation might be relevant to a different role or title. Picture a finance professional reading about the value of unbridled optimism and then saying “yes” to everything—it could spell disaster for the organisation. It’s essential to apply such advice with context and discernment; otherwise, it can lead to misguided actions.

It’s true that many articles promote positivity, high-performance teams, and motivational leadership. And yes, I’ve encountered people who inspire a lot of motivation with just a five-minute talk. But I believe authenticity and personal stories can be just as powerful. A close friend once told me that sharing your own experiences can connect with others and inspire them just as much. Personally, I find that stories of failure can be more impactful than tales of success. Recently, I shared a mistake I made and how asking for help got me through it. It was a reminder that seeking assistance can be a strength, a perspective that is often missing from high-performance narratives.

Many blogs focus on the highs—the successes, the optimism, the charm. But in reality, learning often comes from failures. Even those at the top make mistakes. Hearing about those mistakes can be grounding, even if it’s hard to listen to. I remember the story of the Nokia CEO’s speech, widely circulated online, where he said, “We didn’t do anything wrong.” Many people interpreted this as a failure to adapt, but I saw a different lesson. It’s true, Nokia did miss out on change, but they also led the industry for a decade—a commendable feat. It’s a story that teaches the value of adapting while recognising the successes of the past.

In conclusion, don’t take articles at face value. Apply your own judgement before adopting any advice. Personally, I feel we undervalue failure stories, yet they often teach us more than success stories. Read those too. There may be ten ways to succeed, but a hundred ways to fail. Authenticity matters. It’s what makes us human, and it’s what makes each of us uniquely capable. Imagine someone known for their reliability and attention to detail suddenly trying to become more impulsive and outspoken—they risk confusing others and losing their own strengths. Our uniqueness defines us, and in many cases, it’s that uniqueness that eventually makes us leaders.

Every individual has a unique story, and it’s this individuality that truly sets them apart.