You Don't Get to Decide Whether You're Trustworthy

Most of us want to believe the people we lead trust us, and we probably have reasons for believing they do. We care about our teams, think through our decisions, and try to follow through on what we say we'll do. But when we're deciding whether people trust us, how much of that conclusion comes from what we know about ourselves, and how much comes from what they've actually told us?

Recent research from Boston Consulting Group highlighted that question. Nearly 90% of CEOs were confident that employees trusted their leadership, while only 46% of employees agreed. Although the research examines leadership through AI transformation, BCG found that the disconnect extended to overall trust in leadership. That's a substantial gap between what leaders believe and what employees report.

I can understand how that difference develops. As leaders, we know what went into a decision. We know the conversations we had, the options we considered, and the things we were trying to protect. We may have spent weeks advocating for our team before arriving at an outcome that still wasn't what anyone wanted. From our perspective, our care and commitment are clear.

The people affected by that decision may have access to very little of that information. They know what we shared, how we shared it, and what happened afterward. If we evaluate our leadership based on what we intended and considered, while employees evaluate it based on what they experienced, we can reach very different conclusions without realizing it.

Think about a leader who tells people their door is always open. They mean it, too. They want to hear concerns and believe they're approachable. But when someone brings up a problem, they immediately explain why it happened or point out something the employee hasn't considered. They may even ask, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" without recognizing how that question lands after someone has finally worked up the courage to speak.

That leader might leave the conversation feeling good about having cleared things up. The employee might leave thinking, "I'm not sure I'll do that again." If fewer concerns come forward after that, the leader may assume things are improving, while employees are becoming more selective about what they're willing to share.

That's why self-awareness has to include more than knowing our own thoughts, emotions, and intentions. We also need to understand what it's like to be on the other side. How do people experience our questions, our reactions, and our follow-through? What have they learned they can count on, and where have we given them reason to hesitate?

Those answers can be hard to hear, especially when they don't match how we see ourselves. If someone says we haven't been consistent, we may immediately think of all the times we worked hard to be fair. If someone says they don't feel heard, we may remember how much time we've spent listening. It's natural to want to explain, especially when we feel our character is being questioned.

But if we move straight into explaining ourselves, we can miss an opportunity to understand what the person is telling us. Asking, "Can you walk me through what happened?" gives us more to work with than defending our intentions. We may discover that an expectation wasn't clear, that we never closed the loop on a concern, or that something we considered a small exception affected someone more than we realized.

We may also learn that we misunderstood part of the situation. Being open to feedback doesn't require us to accept every interpretation as complete or accurate. It does require us to listen long enough to understand it before deciding how to respond.

There's another distinction that matters here. People don't have to agree with every decision we make to trust us. Someone can be disappointed by an outcome and still believe we were honest, considered their perspective, and applied expectations fairly. Leadership involves difficult decisions, and building trust doesn't remove that responsibility.

What matters is whether our behavior gives people a reasonable basis for knowing what to expect from us. When someone brings us bad news, can they count on us to address the issue without making them regret speaking up? When a high performer disregards an expectation, do we address it? When we say we'll revisit a concern, do we come back to it, even if we don't have a different answer?

It's easy to overlook those everyday moments because they rarely feel significant at the time. We move on to the next meeting, the next decision, or the next problem. But people remember whether we followed through, how we responded when they disagreed, and whether anything happened after they gave us honest feedback. Those experiences shape what they choose to share with us and what they can rely on us to do.

If you want to explore this in your own leadership, start with one thing you believe you do well. Maybe you see yourself as a good listener or someone who follows through. Ask the people who work with you when they experience that most clearly and when you make it harder for them. Give them time to answer, ask for examples, and resist the urge to explain everything before you've understood what they're saying.

You can make deliberate choices about how you lead, and those choices matter. But whether they've established trust is something you have to be willing to learn from other people. Their answer may differ from what you expected, and it may give you a much clearer place to begin.