How comfortable are you with the word authority?

This week, I had two conversations with two different founders within 48 hours.

The first told me she wanted to raise her level of authority in the marketplace. To her, that meant owning her voice at a completely different level. It meant driving conversations, attracting next level opportunities, and taking everything she had learnt over decades of hard won expertise and using it to push her career and her industry forward.

It meant building a legacy.

The second conversation was with another founder who wanted me to speak to her team. When I asked what she’d like me to focus on, her response was immediate: “We don’t want you to use the word authority.” To her, the word was loaded. 

It meant authoritarian. It meant force. At worst, it meant an abuse of power.

Same word. Opposite reactions.

The Paradox That Keeps Us Small

I think for many of us, we have a tense relationship with the word authority.

We want to own our gravitas. We want the truest expression of our expertise and hard won experience out there in the world – where it can make a difference. We want to be recognised and respected for the credibility we’ve earnt and the insights we have to offer.

But we also don’t want to be seen as pushy. 

We don’t want to appear full of ourselves or give the impression we think we’re better than anybody else. We don’t want to trigger the critics or invite the dreaded question either from others or within our own minds: “Who do you think you are?”.

So we hedge. We minimise. We stay smaller than our expertise warrants.

And this tension keeps us playing small. 

Far too often I see it keep decades of valuable insight locked away, preventing those that need us from benefiting from our experience.

So how can we reimagine our relationship with the word authority?

What Real Authority Actually Looks Like

After 20 years of working with speakers and thought leaders, I’ve come to know that real authority looks very different to the traditional definition.

Real authority is like gravity.

We’ve all been in rooms where someone walks in – and it’s as if they’re surrounded by  a gravitational field. Everyone listens when they speak, all heads turn to them to look for a reaction. They may (and often do) have no official hierarchical power. Yet everybody in the room feels immediately drawn into their orbit.

That’s what real authority feels like.

It has a gravitational pull to it. A sense of stability and purpose. A powerful presence that keeps everyone around them both grounded and in motion.

Real authority is often quiet.

It’s the person in the room who’s listening, who doesn’t speak until they have something deeply considered and definitive to say. It’s the person who weighs other opinions and considerations, who challenges and expects to be challenged.

The most profound experiences of authority I’ve ever witnessed have nothing to do with volume and everything to do with precision. These are the people that silence a room when they start to speak. Commanding attention not by demanding it, but by quietly claiming it with the strength of their conviction.

Real authority is future focused.

Real authority has its eyes on the horizon. It expects to dismantle and be dismantled in order to get where it needs to go. When these leaders speak, they talk about what’s coming, the opportunities and challenges that presents, and usually what they themselves are going to need to change in their own approach to face it.

They’re always pulling in parallel points of view, asking to be challenged and disrupting their own assumptions. Not to protect what already exists, but to future proof what needs to be built tomorrow.

Authority is the release rather than collection of power.

At its most unhealthy, authority is concerned with protection of power, control of resources, and gaining approval in the moment, regardless of the long term cost.

Some of the greatest authorities I have ever met, including world leaders, don’t collect power or followers or applause or agreement. They stand firm in their perspectives, even if it means being unpopular for a time.

They’re unafraid to own a particular point of view. They’re also unafraid to be rigorous in their thinking, and to change their minds if new information comes to light. This willingness to release their grip on power, only ever strengthens their position.

Real authority doesn’t fear embarrassment.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this one. I saw a post from Steven Bartlett recently that said: “You become truly unstoppable once embarrassment stops being a price that you fear.” 

I can’t tell you how deeply I know this to be true.

To claim your space as an authority risks the critics. It risks embarrassment. It risks people asking, “Who do you think you are?” It is, in and of itself, an act of defiance.

But here’s what I’ve noticed: the people who make a real impact have made peace with the risk. They’ve decided that the cost of staying silent is higher than the cost of being challenged. They no longer fear the price of embarrassment.

The Shift That Changes Everything

Here’s the thing about the word authority, and this is probably the essence of what I’ve learnt over two decades of being in its orbit.

Real authority isn’t force. 

But it is a force.

It’s a force you can harness when you need to make an impact with your ideas. It’s a force other people can trust when they’re making decisions or looking for direction. It’s a force that keeps you grounded in purpose even when the applause disappears.

And it’s a force other people can rely on, even when it’s quiet, even when it’s listening, even when it’s changing its mind.

What would happen in the world if we changed our definition of authority? 

What changes could we make? What conversations could we drive? What opportunities could we attract? What world could we create when leaders with decades of expertise stop apologising for knowing what they know?

The next time you feel uncomfortable claiming your authority, ask yourself this: 

Is it the word I’m resisting, or the impact I’m afraid to own?

Because we don’t need you smaller. We need the full force of your expertise, what you’ve learnt, and what you can see that others cannot.

Maybe that’s worth thinking about.

Keep showing up.