The Morning That Began With Surrender
It was a draining day, the kind that pulls everything out of you yet leaves behind something sacred. As I sat through our Tuesday morning devotion, the theme that rose within me was clear: the thin line between principle and pragmatism.
We spoke about John Maxwell’s concept of 360-degree leadership, to lead upward toward God, downward toward the team, sideways toward peers, and inward toward self. But the more I listened, the more one word echoed in my heart: surrender.
In most cultures, surrender is defeat. It implies weakness, resignation, or loss. Yet in faith, surrender is power. It is not quitting the fight but choosing a higher Commander. In Christianity, we do not glorify our strength; we glorify our weakness, for it is through weakness that strength is perfected. To surrender is to acknowledge we are not God, to let go of illusion and open the door to potential.
That morning, I remembered the Johari Window, a framework with four quadrants:
- What we know and others know
- What we know but others do not
- What others know but we do not, and
- What neither side knows.
The fourth quadrant is where potential lives. The only way to expand it is by shrinking pride and privacy. When we reveal more, when we admit we do not know, new possibilities emerge.
Leaders who fail to surrender often become the ceiling of their team’s growth. Those who admit weakness expand the room for others to rise. This is not a method. It is humanity in practice.
Systems Without Souls
Early in my career, I was obsessed with systems. I collected SOPs from renowned companies, studied manuals, and bought toolkits online. Yet even after implementing them, something was missing. The culture did not move.
I learned the hard way that training is not about perfecting a system but forming a soul. A company is not measured by its documentation but by its convictions. The greatest organizations in history such as Toyota with its kaizen, Patagonia with its environmental activism, and AirAsia with its culture of affordability and optimism, were built not just on efficiency but on belief.
Tools can scale a process, but only trust can scale a mission. That is why at Stellar, we have chosen transparency even when it costs us. Some may think our transparency is naïve, even risky, but openness breeds strength. When you lead by fear, you create obedience. When you lead by trust, you create ownership.
That is the first line between principle and pragmatism. Pragmatism asks, “What if they take advantage?” Principle replies, “What if we lead by example?”
The Illusion of Unity
After devotion, our reading text explored the idea of groupthink, the danger of being too united. Unity is necessary; over-unity is deadly.
In many teams, harmony is celebrated to the point of blindness. When everyone agrees too quickly, innovation suffocates. We assume that shared comfort equals shared truth. It rarely does.
I experienced this that morning. As I entered the campus, a Cambridge officer stopped me to ask for directions. To him, the grounds were confusing. To me, every turn was second nature. If I asked my team whether we needed clearer signage, every one of them would have said no. They live within familiarity; he approached with fresh eyes.
That is the second line between principle and pragmatism. Pragmatism says, “We know our place well enough.” Principle whispers, “But what about those who don’t?”
The best leaders are those who seek independent mirrors. They invite outsiders to test assumptions. Singapore’s founding leader Lee Kuan Yew was known for this discipline; he sought dissenting voices, not loyal praise. The country’s success was not built on agreement alone but on debate refined by purpose.
When Agreement Becomes the Enemy of Innovation
Uniformity can drive efficiency, but it also kills creativity. History shows that breakthrough innovation often comes from small, hungry teams willing to challenge convention. Apple’s first Macintosh group, operating in a separate building nicknamed the Pirate Ship, was deliberately isolated from the bureaucracy of the larger company so that they could rebel productively.
Similarly, Malaysia’s own success stories, like Grab’s early pivot from a simple taxi-booking idea in Kuala Lumpur to a regional super-app, grew not from consensus but from courageous disagreement.
As organizations mature, they naturally seek safety in structure. But safety dulls curiosity. The real art of leadership lies in holding both: the structure that sustains and the spark that renews.
That is the third line between principle and pragmatism. One keeps you stable; the other keeps you alive.
When Conviction Meets the Bank
In the afternoon, I met with a banker who, without prior discussion, suggested cutting our loan margin and adding my mentor as a personal guarantor. On paper, it was a simple adjustment. In principle, it was unacceptable.
My mentor had no equity in the company. He owed us nothing. To place him at risk, even if he agreed, would violate the very trust that built our relationship. I refused, not from arrogance, but alignment.
Sometimes leadership requires you to walk away from what seems efficient. To choose principle over convenience. In John Maxwell’s Law of the Lid, leadership ability determines effectiveness. But principle determines altitude. Without principle, the lid may open faster, but it will also fall harder.
In business, as in faith, shortcuts often lead to short lives.
The Developer’s Dilemma
A few days earlier, we faced another test. A property developer had promised to reserve units for our educators so they could own homes near the school. Later, they quietly released those units to other buyers for better commissions.
Some called it normal market practice. I call it moral erosion.
I reminded them of their board’s own stated vision: to empower locals and create jobs. After a difficult conversation, they apologized and rectified the issue. It was not about winning a deal. It was about winning back integrity.
The difference between a transaction and a relationship is principle. A transaction ends when payment clears. A relationship begins when trust does.
Trust, Tested
In the evening, another issue surfaced. A partner we had once supported by sharing our central kitchen now tried to recruit one of my team members. It would have been easy to react defensively. Instead, I chose trust.
I told her, “Go and see what they offer. Find out your worth. You will not lose your place here.”
Some may call that risky. I call it liberating. A culture that cannot afford to let people explore is already a prison.
When she returned, she had peace. She stayed, not because she had to, but because she wanted to. That is the fruit of principle: freedom that strengthens loyalty.
When the Mirror Turns Inward
It is easy to sound righteous when speaking of principles. But as the Bible reminds us, “It is easy to see the speck in another’s eye and ignore the plank in your own.”
Every leader must face that mirror. Have I always lived my principles perfectly? No. None of us have.
I think of fitness coaches who preach health but neglect their own bodies, financial advisers who guide others but drown in debt, preachers who talk about family yet lose their own. The gap between what we know and what we live and act is where integrity collapses.
Knowledge builds competence. Practice builds credibility. Only alignment builds character.
That is the hardest thin line to walk, not between principle and pragmatism, but between belief and behavior.
Lessons From the World and Our Own Backyard
Across history, nations have paid dearly when pragmatism outweighed principle. The 2008 global financial crisis began when institutions prioritized short-term profit over ethical restraint. In contrast, companies that stood by principle, such as Patagonia donating its profits to environmental causes or Malaysia’s EPF maintaining transparency in its long-term investment discipline, emerged stronger over time.
Statistics reinforce this truth. A 2023 Deloitte study found that 73 percent of employees are more loyal to organizations that “act with integrity even when inconvenient.” In Malaysia, a similar survey by TalentCorp showed that values alignment ranked higher than salary in retaining young professionals.
Principle is not only moral; it is measurable. Integrity compounds like interest. The longer you hold it, the more valuable it becomes.
Frameworks That Anchor the Line
Several frameworks help leaders navigate this tension:
- Johari Window – to reveal blind spots through humility.
- Law of the Lid – to recognize that principle raises potential.
- Law of Solid Ground – to remember that trust is earned, not assumed.
- 360-Degree Leadership – to balance upward accountability, downward service, and inward reflection.
Together, they remind us that leadership is not a ladder but a compass. It is less about height and more about direction.
Living by Principle in a Pragmatic World
At day’s end, I asked myself: how do we stay practical without losing principle?
The answer lies in alignment, not rigidity.
Principles are not walls to keep others out; they are anchors that keep us steady when waves rise. Pragmatism tells us what works now. Principle tells us what will still matter tomorrow.
Every decision we make builds one of two legacies: convenience or conviction. One fades when circumstances change; the other endures.
As leaders, parents, or entrepreneurs, we must constantly walk that thin line. Too much principle without pragmatism breeds stubbornness. Too much pragmatism without principle breeds compromise. Wisdom lives in the tension between them.
The Reverse That Redefines It All
Leadership is not about choosing between principle and pragmatism. It is about living where both intersect, where truth meets timing and conviction meets compassion.
The opposite of leadership is not following. It is self-preservation.
When we act only to protect ourselves, we lose the very essence of why we lead. But when we surrender our comfort to serve a higher cause, we gain what systems and strategies can never give: trust, legacy, and peace.
To live by principle in a pragmatic world is to walk a narrow path. Yet it is the only path that leads upward.
