OCTOBER 14 — Human beings are not free from making mistakes. Mistakes arise not to punish but to teach. We should learn from them. The problem is that many tend to deny making their mistakes. Admitting to making mistakes and learning from them is a sign of good leadership. Sadly, this is missing in most people.
There is a moment every leader knows intimately: the moment when the evidence is in, the outcome is bad, and the question hangs in the air — do I own this, or do I dodge it? That moment is the true test of leadership, far more than any boardroom presentation or strategic vision. And it is a test most of us fail, not because we are dishonest, but because we have been conditioned to believe that mistakes are evidence of incompetence rather than invitations to growth.
Why do we deny our mistakes? The answer lies in the stories we tell ourselves. From childhood, many of us absorbed a simple equation: mistake equals failure, failure equals inadequacy, inadequacy equals diminished worth. In school, red ink circled our errors. At work, performance reviews tally our misses. In public life, a single misstep can define a career. Is it any wonder that our first instinct is to deflect, to explain away, to blame circumstance or colleague or timing?
But denial carries a hidden cost. When we refuse to acknowledge a mistake, we forfeit the lesson embedded within it. We also send a powerful signal to those around us: that honesty is dangerous, that vulnerability is weakness, that self-protection matters more than truth. In organisations and families alike, this signal cascades. Teams become cultures of blame avoidance, where problems fester because no one dares name them.
Consider how many of the most admired figures in any field — science, business, sport — are admired not for never falling, but for how they handled the fall. So how do we move from a culture of denial to a culture of learning? The shift begins within each of us.
First, separate the mistake from the self. A mistake is an event, not an identity. The moment we stop saying “I am a failure” and start saying “I made a decision that did not work,” we free ourselves to examine the decision without shame. This is the essence of what psychologists call a growth mindset: the understanding that abilities are not fixed but developed through effort, feedback, and yes, error.
Second, normalise the post-mortem. High-performing teams do not just celebrate wins; they dissect losses without recrimination. The question is never “Who is to blame?” but “What can we learn?” When reflection becomes routine, admission becomes less frightening. Make it a habit — personally and collectively — to ask, after any significant outcome: What worked? What didn’t? What will we do differently?
Third, reward the admission, not just the outcome. If the only behaviour we celebrate is success, we should not be surprised when people hide failure. Leaders must consciously recognise those who own their errors, because they are the ones protecting the organisation from bigger ones down the line. Praise the person who raises a hand and says, “I think I made a mistake here” — publicly, sincerely, and often.
Fourth, reframe the language. Words shape thought. Replace “failure” with “feedback.” This is a deliberate recalibration of what we value. We are insisting mistakes are useful.
The stakes are higher than personal growth. In aviation, near-miss reporting has made flying safe precisely because mistakes are treated as system failures to be studied, not individual shames to be hidden. In politics, the refusal to admit error erodes trust until institutions themselves are hollowed out. Every field that has embraced the learning mindset has reaped the rewards. Every field that clings to blame has stagnated, and ultimately less effective.
We are all, without exception, imperfect. That is not a flaw in the human design; it is the design. Mistakes are not the opposite of competence — they are the raw material of it. The question is not whether we will err, but whether we will open the gift that error offers.
So let us begin today. Let us admit one mistake, out loud, to someone who matters. Let us ask what it taught us. Let us thank those who tell us the truth. And let us build workplaces, families, and communities where the honest admission of error is met not with scorn but with respect.
Leadership is not the absence of mistakes. It is the courage to own them, the humility to learn from them, and the generosity to teach others to do the same. That is a lesson worth failing forward for — again and again, until we get it right.
* The author is affiliated with the Tan Sri Omar Centre for STI Policy Studies at UCSI University and is an Adjunct Professor at the Ungku Aziz Centre for Development Studies, Universiti Malaya. He can be reached at [email protected].
** This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.
