My Standards Are For Guiding Me, Not For Judging You

The leadership lesson that saved my crew (and my relationships)

I was working at Raytheon in El Segundo.

First small defense contractor project. A little lab renovation for a new program— the kind of work that happens on a recurring basis.

I was new at running work. Fresh promotion to foreman. Eager to prove I deserved it.

And I made the classic rookie mistake.

I judged my crew by the same standards I judged myself.

Not in a constructive way.

In a destructive way.

Critical. Judgmental. Dismissive.

If they didn't show up early like I did, I called them out. If they didn't keep their coffee breaks or lunch break tight and get back to work on time, I questioned their commitment. If they didn't think three steps ahead like I did, I treated them like they were slacking.

I thought I was holding them to a high standard.

I was actually pushing them away.

One day, one of the other foremen in our shop— a buddy who'd been doing this longer than me— pulled me aside.

I started to argue. He cut me off.

"What got you to where you are— a boss, a respected member of the shop— is not necessarily what everybody on the payroll wants. And if you try to make them more like you, you'll soon find yourself alone."

That hit me hard.

Not because I wanted to hear it. Because I needed to.

The main takeaway I got from that lesson:

My standards are to guide me, not to criticize others.

The Trap Most Leaders Fall Into

Here's what most people don't realize about leadership.

The things that make you successful as an individual contributor are often the exact things that make you fail as a leader.

The relentless work ethic that got you promoted? It becomes unrealistic expectations for others.

The high standards that made you stand out? They become judgment and criticism when others don't meet them.

The self-discipline that drove your own success? It becomes resentment when you try to impose it on your team.

You think you're leading. You're actually alienating.

Once I learned this I saw it everywhere.

The gym rat who can't understand why their partner doesn't want to train six days a week.

The entrepreneur who resents their employees for not being as obsessed with the business as they are.

The martial artist who judges lower belts for not showing up to every open mat.

Same mistake. Different context.

You're using your standards as a measuring stick for everyone else. And when they don't measure up, you make them wrong.

But here's the problem: your standards are yours.

Not theirs.

They have different goals. Different priorities. Different lives.

And when you judge them for not being like you, you're not leading them.

You're pushing them away.

Leadership vs. Stewardship

Here's the distinction most people miss.

Leadership is about getting people to follow you.

Stewardship is about helping people become the best version of themselves— not the best version of you.

Leadership says, "Do it my way."

Stewardship says, "How can I help you do it your way?"

Leadership judges people by your standards.

Stewardship meets people where they are and helps them grow from there.

Most people think they're leading when they're actually just demanding conformity.

Real leadership— the kind that actually works— is stewardship.

It's recognizing that the people you're responsible for are not you. They don't have your background, your motivations, your goals.

And that's okay.

Your job isn't to make them like you. Your job is to help them become who they're capable of becoming.

That shift in mindset changes everything.

What I Got Wrong at Raytheon

Back at that Raytheon project, I was operating from the wrong framework.

I thought my job as foreman was to make my crew work like me.

Show up early like me. Think ahead like me. Care about the details like me.

When they didn't, I judged them.

Not out loud— not always. But in my head. And it showed.

In the tone I used. The way I gave feedback. The frustration that leaked out when someone didn't anticipate what I would have anticipated.

I thought I was holding them accountable.

I was actually making them feel like they'd never be good enough.

Here's what I didn't understand: they weren't trying to be foremen.

Some of them just wanted to be solid journeymen. Clock in, do good work, clock out. Go home to their families. Live their lives.

That wasn't a character flaw. That was a choice.

And my judgment of their choice was making me a worse leader.

When my buddy pulled me aside and told me I'd soon be alone if I kept this up, he was right.

I was already starting to lose the crew. Not because they were bad workers. Because I was a bad leader.

The Framework (How to Lead Without Judging)

Here's how to shift from judgment to stewardship.

It's not about lowering your standards for yourself.

It's about understanding that your standards are for you, not for measuring everyone else.

Step 1: Separate your standards from your expectations of others

Your standards are personal. They're what you hold yourself to because of your goals, your values, your identity.

But not everyone has the same goals.

The journeyman who wants to clock in at 7 and clock out at 3:30 isn't lazy. He's just not trying to be a foreman.

The blue belt who trains three times a week isn't uncommitted. She's just not trying to compete.

The employee who does their job well but doesn't live and breathe the company isn't disloyal. They just have a life outside of work.

When you judge them by your standards, you're judging them for not wanting what you want.

That's not leadership. That's ego.

Ask yourself: What do they want? What are they trying to achieve?

Then help them get there. On their terms, not yours.

Step 2: Meet people where they are, not where you think they should be

This is the hardest part for most leaders.

You see potential in someone. You see what they could be if they just worked harder, showed up earlier, cared more.

And you try to push them there.

But pushing doesn't work. It just creates resistance.

People grow when they're ready to grow. Not when you decide they should.

Your job isn't to force them to be better. Your job is to create the conditions where they can choose to be better.

That means meeting them where they are.

If someone's showing up on time but not early, don't judge them for not being like you. Acknowledge that they're reliable. Then, if you want them to grow, ask: "What would it take for you to get here 15 minutes early? Would that help you get ahead of the day?"

Maybe they say yes. Maybe they say no.

Either way, you've respected their autonomy instead of imposing your standard.

Step 3: Give feedback based on outcomes, not your process

This is where most leaders go wrong.

They manage to their own process instead of to the outcome.

"Why didn't you do it the way I would have done it?"

Who cares? Did it get done right?

If yes, their way works. Leave them alone.

If no, help them find a better way— which might still not be your way.

People have different styles. Different strengths. Different approaches.

Your job as a leader isn't to make everyone a clone of you. It's to help them find what works for them.

So give feedback on the result, not the method.

"The panel wasn't labeled correctly. That's going to cause problems down the line. How do we make sure that doesn't happen again?"

Not: "Why didn't you label it as you went like I do?"

See the difference?

One focuses on the outcome. The other imposes your process.

Step 4: Give people the autonomy to live their own damn lives

A few years ago, I learned a better way to love others.

By giving them the autonomy and respect to live their own damn lives.

That sounds simple, but it's not.

Because most of us— especially high-performers— want the people we care about to be like us.

We want our partner to train as hard as we do. We want our kids to value what we value. We want our crew to work like we work.

But that's not love. That's control.

Love— real love— is respecting that people get to choose their own path.

Even if it's not the path you'd choose for them.

Even if you think they're leaving potential on the table.

Even if you know they could do more.

They get to choose.

Your job isn't to make them choose your way. Your job is to support them in their way.

That doesn't mean you can't have standards for your team. You can. You should.

But those standards need to be about the work, not about making them like you.

"Show up on time. Do quality work. Communicate problems. Be someone the team can count on."

Those are reasonable standards.

"Show up early. Work through lunch. Think three steps ahead. Care as much as I do."

Those are your standards. Not theirs.

What Changed After That Conversation

After my buddy pulled me aside at Raytheon, I made a shift.

I stopped judging my crew by my standards.

I started asking:

• What do they want?
• What are they capable of?
• How can I help them be better at what they're trying to do?

Not what I'm trying to do. What they're trying to do.

And everything changed.

The crew started showing up differently. Not because I lowered the bar. Because I stopped making them feel like they'd never clear it.

They started taking more ownership. Asking better questions. Solving problems instead of waiting for me to solve them.

Not because I pushed them harder. Because I gave them space to grow.

I realized my job wasn't to make them more like me.

My job was to help them become the best version of themselves.

What I've Heard and Why They Don't Hold

I already know what you're thinking.

"But if I don't hold them to my standards, won't the quality drop?"

No.

You're confusing your personal standards with work standards.

Work standards are non-negotiable. Quality. Safety. Professionalism.

Your personal standards— showing up early, working through lunch, obsessing over every detail— are yours.

Hold yourself to them. Don't impose them on others.

"What if they're not reaching their potential?"

That's their choice.

You can create opportunities for growth. You can encourage. You can challenge.

But you can't make them want what you want for them.

And judging them for not wanting it doesn't help anyone.

"Isn't this just lowering the bar?"

No.

It's respecting that not everyone is trying to jump as high as you are.

And that's okay.

Your Move

Here's what I want you to do in the next 48 hours.

Identify one person you've been judging by your standards.

Your crew. Your partner. Your training partner. Your kid.

Ask yourself: What do they want? What are they trying to achieve?

Then ask: Am I helping them get there, or am I judging them for not being like me?

If it's the second one, stop.

Give them the autonomy and respect to live their own damn life.

And watch what happens.

My standards are for guiding me, not for judging you.

That's the standard.

Who have you been judging by your standards, and what would change if you gave them the space to live their own life?

Hit reply. One sentence. I want to know who you're letting off the hook.

⚔ The Dojo Drill

Today’s training:

The Elimination Drill

What one habit is quietly sabotaging your life?

Remove it this week.

📚 Leader’s Library

Book I recommend this week:

​The Obstacle Is the Way — Ryan Holiday​

Why?

Because the obstacle you're avoiding is the success you're not having...

P.S. Know a martial arts gym owner who’s stressed about money or student numbers?

Do them a favor: send them to The Leader's dōjō 武士道場, my free Skool where I help owners get more students and keep them longer with simple systems.

One forward from you could change their gym: The Leader's dōjō 武士道場​

Chuck