Seeking Apologies, Not Permission

Leadership moments rarely announce themselves. Sometimes they arrive quietly, in rain, fatigue, and small decisions. When systems lag and clarity is absent, waiting feels safe but costly. Responsible leaders move with integrity, contain risk, protect others, and accept consequences. That willingness to carry responsibility is how momentum, trust, and impact are preserved.

How leaders decide when the path is unclear

The Fork in the Road: Relief or Responsibility

By the time most people ask for permission, the decision has already been made inside them. What they are really asking for is relief. A clean approval. A way to feel safe. A way to outsource responsibility.

That is not a character flaw. It is human.

Our brains are wired to prefer certainty, even when certainty is slow or incomplete. Uncertainty triggers stress responses in the body, and the body wants one thing, for the discomfort to stop. For many people, “permission” becomes a stress reliever.

But leadership is not a stress-relief service. Leadership is the willingness to carry responsibility, especially when systems cannot keep up with reality.

So when clarity does not come first, leaders face a quiet fork: do I wait for permission, or do I act and take responsibility for the consequences?

This is not about being rebellious. It is about not hiding.

A Rainy Night, A Small Decision, A Big Pattern

It was 12 December 2025. The year was rushing toward the finish line. I was tired, trying to recover. That evening I finally went back to the gym with my gym mate, Joel. It had been about two weeks.

The routine was suddenly tougher, not because it became impossible, but because we lost momentum.

Behavioural science explains this in a simple way: restarting costs more than maintaining. When momentum breaks, restarting requires disproportionate effort. That is why the same habit can feel light in one season and heavy in the next.

December is also rainy season. Our usual routine is gym and swim. But rain adds uncertainty. The main question that night was not discipline, it was permission.

Would the security guard allow us to swim in the rain?

If not allowed, we would sauna. Sauna sounded fine, we had not done it in a while, and on a rainy day it actually fits.

After the gym, I asked Joel, “Are you ready to swim?”

He looked surprised. “It’s still raining. Can we?”

I said, “Let’s try.”

I put on my goggles, removed my shirt, and walked straight into the pool. No eye contact with the security guard. No announcement. I just went in.

I swam 500 meters. It took me 12 minutes.

Then I got out, greeted the guards, and went to the sauna.

Nothing dramatic happened. Nobody stopped me. Nobody argued. Life continued.

But inside that small decision was a pattern, the way I tend to choose when things are unclear.

The Integrity Test That Comes Before the Move

In the sauna, it was only the two of us. Joel said he found it interesting how quickly I decided. He said he had the same concern but could not imagine himself just walking in.

I told him I had the same concern. I am not fearless. I just run decisions through principles.

The first test is integrity.

If this were a private pool instead of a public pool, would I still do it?

No lightning. No thunder. Just steady drizzle. The kind of rain that can go for hours.

Yes, I would still swim.

If I only do something because people are watching, then it is not principle. It is performance.

Why Asking for Permission Can Create the Wrong Problem

Then comes the second test.

What happens if I approach the security guard and ask for permission?

Most likely, he says no. Not because he hates me. Not because it is necessarily unsafe. But because he is accountable. Permission systems are designed primarily to prevent risk, not to maximise opportunity. That is not evil, it is how such systems are built.

If I ask him, I put him in an awkward position.

If he says yes, he takes responsibility for me. If anything happens, even small, he becomes the one who “allowed it.”

If he says no, he feels bad, and I still do not get what I want.

So sometimes you do not ask permission because asking creates a new problem that does not need to exist.

That night, I chose the third path.

I went straight in.

If anyone questioned the guard later, he could truthfully say, “He did not ask me. He just went in.”

That protects him. He is not complicit. He is not responsible. He is simply doing his job.

Risk Containment: The Quiet Skill Behind Bold Decisions

Because I was in the pool, I could not hear anything anyway. I swam and got out. I did not drag it. I did not make it a long session. It was 12 minutes, the same distance, then I left.

This matters more than people realise.

In high-risk industries like aviation and healthcare, a major way to reduce errors is not relying on perfect judgment each time, but setting clear limits and repeatable routines. Fixed boundaries reduce the chance of overconfidence turning into foolishness.

So the 500 meters and 12 minutes was not only a fitness habit. It was risk containment.

It kept the decision small, controlled, and non-dramatic.

When Results Create Permission Retroactively

That was when I named the principle clearly.

I seek apologies, not permission.

This sentence can be abused by selfish people, so it needs boundaries. But the core idea is simple: when systems lag behind reality, responsible leaders sometimes move first, then deal with consequences honestly.

Innovation research inside organisations shows something similar. Many successful internal projects began as “unauthorised initiatives.” People started first, results became visible, then approval followed. Outcomes created permission retroactively.

That does not mean rules do not matter. It means results often move faster than bureaucracy, and leadership is the skill of closing that gap without compromising integrity.

Why Decisiveness Builds Trust Faster Than Being Right

There is another uncomfortable truth.

Teams often trust leaders more for decisiveness than for correctness.

That sounds unfair until you see the alternative. A leader who delays everything to avoid being wrong creates a different kind of harm: stalled momentum, drained morale, rising anxiety, and creeping doubt.

Most organisational delays are not caused by lack of talent or resources. They are caused by decision paralysis. And the longer a team sits in uncertainty, the more trust leaks out.

This is one reason why entrepreneurs tend to have higher tolerance for ambiguity than normal. Research consistently shows founders are more comfortable acting with incomplete information. Not because they are reckless, but because they learn to evaluate risk, contain risk, and accept uncertainty as part of building.

The 2019 License Story: When Waiting Would Have Sunk the Team

I told Joel this was not just about swimming.

Back in 2019, we had fulfilled every requirement for our school licence. Everything submitted. Follow-ups done. We complied.

But the Malaysian political situation was unstable. Governments changed. Prime Ministers changed. Education Minister changed. Signatures stalled.

A school does not run like a shop. We have intakes. We have teachers. We have parents watching. We have a team who needs certainty.

People were speculating whether the school would really start. The ambiguity was not academic. It was existential.

So I went to Putrajaya. Not to bribe. Not to shortcut. Just to push for common sense.

We have done our part. We have waited a reasonable time. We cannot hold our team hostage to delays we did not cause.

And then we moved.

We put up the buntings. We promoted. We spent RM50,000, easily ten times what we normally would have spent at that stage.

We were reported by other international schools. We were called in. Questioned by the State Education Department.

The pressure was real.

But we survived. We gained attention. Parents came. Teachers came. We stayed afloat.

The principle was the same as the rainy-night swim, just with higher stakes.

Five Guardrails That Keep This Principle Clean

This principle should never become a slogan. It must remain a disciplined process.

Before choosing action over permission, I check five things.

  1. Integrity
    If no one is watching, would I still do this?
  2. Accountability
    Am I willing to carry the consequence personally, including reputation cost?
  3. Containment
    Can I limit the risk in time, scope, and impact?
  4. Purpose
    Is this decision for others, not just for my comfort?
  5. Reversibility
    If this goes wrong, can it be corrected without sinking the team?

If you cannot pass these tests, then seeking permission is wiser. Waiting is not always cowardice. Sometimes it is maturity.

But if you have done the work, waited reasonably, and the cost of waiting is greater than the risk of moving, leadership may require you to step forward quietly, decisively, and with full ownership.

Why This Matters for 2026 Goal Setting

As the year ends, I find myself thinking about goal setting for 2026.

Many people set New Year goals and forget them by February or March. It is not always laziness. Often it is design failure. Their goals depend on motivation, and motivation is unreliable. Momentum is the real engine, and momentum only comes after movement.

If I believe goal setting is an art, and if I believe I know how to do it in a way that actually changes lives, then documenting it and teaching it is not extra work. It is stewardship.

That is why I want to run a session before I go to China. Not because it looks good, but because I want people around me to live a life to the fullest.

That is the goal.

To help people unleash their potential.

The Reverse That Redefines It All

Leadership is not proven by how well you seek permission.

Leadership is proven by how well you carry responsibility.

Waiting can look like wisdom, but sometimes it is simply comfort wearing a suit.

A team rarely needs a leader who is always correct.
They need a leader who is willing to decide, absorb the heat, and protect momentum when uncertainty is high.

Sometimes the most loving thing a leader can do is move first, keep it contained, protect people who did not sign up for the risk, and say later, calmly and without drama, “That one is on me.”