Not for the first time and I suspect not the last – I found myself standing in an airport bookshop a few weeks ago – looking at the array of books to entice the traveller to summer reading. I was struck as I always have been by just how many books there are out there on leadership and management – indeed it is a theme I have spoken and written about a fair deal in the past. This year, however, one word seemed to be commonplace both on the covers and inside some of these books and that is ‘courage’ or ‘courageous’. Everywhere I looked there seemed to be work on courageous leadership. It started me off on a spell of reflection and consideration as to what if anything such concepts might mean for or speak to social care in Scotland at this time.

One online definition from Google – much changed by Ai this past week- told me that:

‘Courageous leadership is a concept in leadership thought that emphasises the moral and ethical bravery required to lead with integrity, especially in the face of risk, uncertainty, or opposition. The main aspects include, moral courage, authenticity, resilience, an empowerment of others and long-term vision over short-term gain:’

Not much to disagree with there and indeed concepts of courage in leadership are age old even if books on the theme only started to appear with volume in the 1990s onwards.

But what does the recent resurgence of the idea of ‘courageous leadership’ have to say to social care and Scotland today?

We are certainly living in days of fragility and uncertainty. Every other day I get an email from someone either working in or providing services which raises concerns about the state of the sector and a sense of despair that no-one seems to be doing anything about it, except talking.

Indeed this past week I got an email from colleagues at Alzheimer Scotland which highlighted that their own ‘Stop the Cuts’ online campaign and petition had reached 10,000 signatories – a campaign which I would commend to you and which is seeking to draw attention to the withdrawal of critical support and care from thousands of individuals across the country – all of it happening out of sight and out of mind – as a result of savage cuts to budgets.

And yet in these days of intense uncertainty, when so much feels fragile, it is easy to lose ourselves in the immediacy of crisis and miss the deeper task that lies before us. That task, in Scotland today, is I believe first and foremost to ensure that older people are not only cared for, but valued, cherished, and enabled to flourish. Achieving this will demand not just competence, not just vision, but courageous leadership – in our politics, in our social care, and in the communities where older people live their lives.

Brené Brown, in one of the better recent books on courage in leadership, Dare to Lead, reminds us that:

“The courage to be vulnerable is not about winning or losing, it’s about the courage to show up when you can’t predict or control the outcome.”

That, I would argue, is precisely the challenge facing leaders in Scotland today. We cannot predict the future of social care funding, of demographic change, of the pressures on health and wellbeing. But we can – and must – show up with honesty, humility, and bravery. The problem all too often is a denial of truth, a willingness to take the easy route and arrogance of false assurance.

Too often, our discourse around older people drifts into deficit: cost, dependency, burden. This is not only morally wrong, but also socially and economically short‑sighted.

Courageous leadership, then, is the willingness to confront the uncomfortable truths: that our current systems are not adequate; that too many older Scots live with loneliness, poverty, or untreated ill‑health; and that tinkering at the edges will not suffice.

How you move from the inadequacy of the here and now to a future orientation is what matters and simply more of the same will not do the job. Something political leadership needs to be hearing as we move towards an election next year. Because courageous leadership in social care requires political bravery rather than tramline party conformity. It means telling hard truths about taxation and public spending. It means resisting the seduction of short-term fixes in favour of long-term transformation. Olaf Groth, writing in The Great Remobilization, warns that leaders in our time cannot simply manage disruption – they must anticipate and re design for it. Scotland’s ageing population is not a looming crisis to be feared, but a predictable reality to be planned for with creativity, compassion, and courage.

Another writer I have come across, Kirstin Ferguson, in her recent work Head & Heart: The Art of Modern Leadership, calls on leaders to bring both rational clarity and deep empathy to their roles. This balance is essential in social care. We must be analytical about budgets, workforce planning, and integration with health services – but we must also be profoundly human, listening to older people’s voices, respecting their dignity, and recognising their aspirations.

I often say that leadership in social care is not about heroic acts, but about everyday bravery. The carer who chooses to stay an extra 15 minutes with someone who is lonely. The manager who challenges unfairness even when it risks unpopularity. The politician who argues for investment in prevention, knowing the electoral rewards may be minimal. These are acts of what Brown calls “whole‑hearted leadership.”

But let us be clear: the stakes could not be higher. If we lack courage, we will condemn too many older Scots to lives of diminished wellbeing. If we embrace it, we have the chance to create a Scotland where older people not only live longer, but live better – where health, dignity, and purpose are not privileges, but rights.

We cannot avoid the realities of ageing. We cannot skirt around the inadequacies of current provision. We must go through – with vision, with honesty, with courage. And in doing so, we may yet build a Scotland where ageing is not feared but celebrated, and where courageous leadership makes older people’s wellbeing a cornerstone of our shared future.

 

As the great contemporary Nigerian born poet Niyi Osundare writes in ‘The Leader and the Led.’:

 

The Lion stakes his claim

To the leadership of the pack

 

But the Antelopes remember

The ferocious pounce of his paws

 

The hyena says the crown is made for him

But the Impalas shudder at his lethal appetite

 

The Giraffe craves a place in the front

But his eyes are too far from the ground

 

When the Zebra says it’s his right to lead

The pack points to the duplicity of his stripes

 

The Elephant trudges into the power tussle

But its colleagues dread his trampling feet

 

The warthog is too ugly

The rhino too riotous

 

And the pack thrashes around

Like a snake without a head

 

“Our need calls for a hybrid of habits,”

Proclaims the Forest Sage,

 

“A little bit of a Lion

A little bit of a Lamb

 

Tough like a tiger, compassionate like a doe

Transparent like a river, mysterious like a lake

 

A leader who knows how to follow

Followers mindful of their right to lead”

 

© Niyi Osundare 2

THE LEADER AND THE LED (Niyi Osundare)

 

Donald Macaskill