You Never Know Who's Watching

Many years ago, the organisation I worked for launched yet another marketing campaign.

Like many large organisations, the campaign came with a fresh set of values and behaviours that we were all encouraged to embrace. If you've spent any time in the corporate world, you'll know the cycle. New posters. New slogans. New behaviours.

Some campaigns stick.

Most quietly disappear.

As I've mentioned in previous posts, I have a bit of a musical side. In fact, I still challenge every team I lead to find my old album on Spotify. The first person to find it wins a crisp $100 note.

I have never need to give one.

So when the new behaviours launched, I decided to try something different.

Rather than stand at the front of the room and read through another PowerPoint presentation, I rewrote the lyrics to John Lennon's Imagine around the new behaviours and planned to perform it live at our team meetings.

Singing in front of the team wasn't exactly new.

I'd regularly pull out the guitar at Christmas and lead a few carols, and it had become enough of a talking point that Newman once decided the staff bathroom was the ideal place to discuss my musical aspirations.

If you've read Everyone Has a Newman, you'll know exactly why that sentence makes me smile.

So after a few rehearsals, some questionable wardrobe decisions to help complete the "rockstar" look, and more confidence than musical ability, it was time to perform.

One Camera

At the back of the room, someone had set up a video camera.

I barely noticed.

We often recorded meetings so staff who couldn't attend could watch them later.

Nothing seemed unusual.

Certainly nothing that prepared me for what happened next.

At that stage in my career, I wasn't particularly senior.

I was one Team Leader among many across the organisation, several layers removed from the Executive Team and even further from the Board.

A couple of weeks later, an email appeared in my inbox.

At first, I genuinely thought it was a prank.

It read:

James,

Andy has just shared the video of your performance of Imagine with the Board. Thank you for embracing our new ways of working and behaviours. We all thought it was brilliant. I've now shared the footage with leaders across both my team and Andy's because it genuinely brought a smile to our faces.

Thank you.

Mike

I stared at the screen in complete disbelief.

Then, almost instantly, I experienced every stage of the Kübler-Ross change curve.

Shock.

Denial.

Anger.

Embarrassment.

Acceptance...

Eventually.

I couldn't believe someone had shared it without asking.

(Thanks, Naveen.)

Eventually the embarrassment faded.

Work moved on.

I assumed everyone else had forgotten about it too.

The Conference

Several months later, I attended our national leadership conference.

Around five thousand leaders gathered for workshops, keynote speakers and the chance to reconnect with colleagues from around the country.

One of the keynote speakers was John Cleese, whose reflections on creativity and leadership were every bit as entertaining as you'd imagine.

As I wandered through the conference thinking I was blending comfortably into the crowd...

Mike spotted me.

Microphone in hand.

In front of thousands of people.

"There he is!"

"The guy who rewrote Imagine!"

Before I had time to process what was happening, the video was playing on the big screen.

Once again...

There I was.

Dressed like a budget rockstar.

Singing rewritten Beatles lyrics to several thousand colleagues.

To this day, I'm still not entirely convinced it wasn't an elaborate setup.

After the session, Andy found me and introduced me to several members of his leadership team.

Thankfully we'd already met.

He'd previously visited our contact centre and, instead of staying in a boardroom, joined us for a game of table tennis.

He was surprisingly good.

Although, to be fair...

Rob still beat him.

Anyway… What's the Lesson Here?

For a long time, I thought this story was about embarrassment.

About unexpectedly finding yourself in the spotlight.

About learning that you should probably ask permission before someone shares a video of you dressed like a rockstar singing rewritten Beatles lyrics.

But over the years, I've realised it was about something much deeper.

You never know who's watching.

Not in a frightening, Big Brother sort of way.

In a leadership way.

I wasn't trying to impress the CEO.

I wasn't trying to get noticed by the Board.

I certainly wasn't hoping my performance would end up in a board meeting.

I was simply trying to help my team embrace change.

I believed that if I wanted them to engage with the new behaviours, then I needed to engage first.

To model them.

To make them memorable.

To be willing to look a little ridiculous if it helped someone else understand the message.

That's leadership.

Not because I sang a song.

But because leadership is often about being willing to go first.

The funny thing is, most of the moments that shape our reputation aren't the ones we carefully plan.

They're the ordinary moments where we choose to care a little more than expected.

To prepare a little harder than necessary.

To put ourselves out there, even when it feels uncomfortable.

Someone is always watching.

Your team.

Your peers.

Your leaders.

Sometimes even the Board.

But more importantly...

They're watching to see whether what you say matches what you do.

Looking back, the greatest compliment wasn't that my video reached the CEO.

It was that someone believed it was worth sharing.

Not because it was a Grammy Award-winning performance—I can assure you it wasn't.

But because, for a few minutes, it demonstrated something every leader hopes to see.

Someone willing to embrace change before asking everyone else to.

So let me leave you with one question.

What are people learning from watching you?

Because leadership is always on display.

Not just when you're standing on a stage.

But in the ordinary moments...

...when you think nobody important is looking.