versions of the Peace Corps and dozens of other organizations
that tap American energy and idealism.
In 2008, all eyes were on the men and the woman who
sought the highest office in the land. But it is a mistake to focus
only on leaders. Even if we rise to become president of the
United States, we spend most of our lives as followers, not
leaders. In the past we have tended to think of the distinction
between the two hierarchically. But, in fact, as our workplaces
and other organizations become flatter and more collegial, the
terms become less and less meaningful. Leadership is a tempo-
rary assignment among Google engineers, who serve for a
time, then pass the crown to another member of their small
working groups. Even in more traditional organizations, a re-
ciprocal relationship exists between leaders and followers.
Leader and follower are partners in the same dance. It is our
most important obligation as followers to speak truth to power.
As hundreds of unemployed whistle blowers can tell you, can-
dor is a more dangerous job than silence. Speaking truth to
power always requires courage, and when the stakes are high
enough, it demands true heroism. But the follower who boldly
points out the elephant in the room or the flaw in the boss’s
preferred plan is transformed into what can only be called a
leader—someone who assumes responsibility and acts in the
best interest of the group. And it’s not only the whistle blowers
or the dissenters who need to be listened to, to be heard. We all
do. A story about FDR comes to mind: crowded, grieving
masses surged along Constitution Avenue in April 1945, wait-
ing for his funeral cortege to pass by. As his hearse neared, a
well-dressed, middle-aged man standing in the throng fell to
his knees, sobbing desperately until finally regaining his com-
posure. A stranger by his side asked, “Did you knowthe Presi-
dent?” The man could barely reply. “No.. .but he knew me.”
Epilogue to the Twentieth-Anniversary Edition