Don’t Be a Nice Leader, Be a Kind Leader
I was sitting in a stakeholder meeting, and senior leaders were proposing changes to the learning design I’d been developing. I felt it immediately—a pinch in my heart, a pull to say yes as quickly as possible. My body wanted to please them. These were respected leaders, and their suggestions sounded reasonable in the moment.
But I’d learned to slow down in these moments. I knew something was off. These suggestions, well-intentioned as they were, didn’t serve the purpose of what we were trying to create.
I acknowledged their feedback. I thanked them for their perspectives. And later in the discussion, I explained that some suggestions wouldn’t be incorporated—they didn’t align with the purpose of the session.
The moment I said it, I felt two things at once: relief that I’d kept my integrity, and fear that they might not like me. But I’ve come to recognize this simultaneous feeling as a signal—it means I’d chosen kindness over niceness.
A Shift Worth Making
This distinction between nice and kind is one of the most important shifts I’ve made as a leader—and I see it show up most for those of us who tend toward people-pleasing or find ourselves avoiding difficult conversations to keep the peace.
It became clear to me during a book club session with my team. We were learning together about how to create meaningful gathering and learning experiences through Priya Parker’s The Art of Gathering. One team member shared what resonated with her: “Purpose should be disputable—that really landed for me. But what gets in my way is trying to please everyone.”
She had named what so many of us struggle with. Parker writes that when we try to make purpose so inclusive that everyone agrees with it, we lose the clarity that makes gathering meaningful. My team member understood this intellectually, but she was honest about her barrier to applying it: the pull to please.
I recognized myself in her admission. Being nice is not the same as being kind, and the cost of confusing the two is higher than most of us realize.
How I Think About the Difference
Being nice is a mechanism to appease tension in the moment. It’s saying yes when you mean no. It’s collecting everyone’s input and trying to incorporate all of it, even when doing so dilutes the work. Nice feels urgent—it rushes you toward agreement, toward keeping everyone comfortable.
Being kind means doing what serves someone or the group, even when it’s uncomfortable. It’s being intentional about what’s in service of the person in front of me or the work I do. It means being honest about what will actually help, even when that honesty creates friction. It means holding the line on purpose and quality, even when it disappoints people.
Nice feels like care in the moment. But kind actually is care over time.
What I’ve Seen Kindness Create
Here’s what that looks like in practice.
Earlier in my leadership journey, I had a team member who kept missing the mark on a project. Her work was ok but not sharp. The nice version of me softened my feedback, focused on what was working, told myself I was being supportive. But over weeks, nothing changed. She wasn’t growing, and I was growing frustrated—with her, and with myself for not being honest.
When I finally gave her direct feedback—”This analysis lacks depth, and here’s specifically what I need to see”—she was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “I wish you’d told me this three weeks ago.”
She was right. My niceness hadn’t protected her. It had withheld the information she needed to improve. Kindness would have trusted her enough to handle the truth earlier. Within two weeks, her work sharpened. Not because she suddenly became more capable, but because she finally knew what the expectation was.
That’s what I’ve seen kindness produce: clarity, growth, trust that you’ll be honest. Nice produces confusion and stagnation dressed up as support.
Living My Values Through Kindness
In that stakeholder meeting, the nice version of me would have nodded along and let the learning design become diluted. I would have avoided discomfort but failed the participants who deserved an impactful learning experience, failed my team who needed clarity and purpose instead of added complexity, failed the senior leaders who deserved true partnership to elevate our impact for the firm.
This year, I’ve committed to three values in my leadership: integrity, excellence, and care. What I’ve learned through practice is that two of these—integrity and care—require kindness, not niceness.
Integrity means being honest about what serves the purpose. When I say yes to something I don’t believe in, I break my integrity. I’m prioritizing my comfort over honest service.
Care means caring enough to be truthful. It doesn’t mean making people feel good in every moment. It means respecting people enough to be direct, to trust they can handle difficulty, to give them feedback that helps them grow.
When I declined those suggestions, I was practicing both. I was being honest about what would serve the learning, and I was caring enough about everyone involved to protect the integrity of the work.
The Vulnerability of Standing for Your Value
What I’ve come to understand is that being nice is about self-protection. It manages my discomfort with conflict, my fear of not being liked, my anxiety about being seen as difficult. Nice keeps me safe.
Kind requires courage. It requires me to step into discomfort and stay there. It requires me to be seen—to make my values visible and therefore open to judgment.
There’s an identity question I’ve had to answer for myself, and I think every leader faces it eventually: Am I a leader guided by purpose and value, or by the need to please? I’ve learned you can’t be both.
Every time I decline a suggestion, I’m declaring what I stand for. Every time I give honest feedback, I’m revealing my values. Every time I hold the line on purpose, I’m saying “this matters more than your approval of me.”
That’s vulnerable. The fear that people might not like me doesn’t fully go away. Choosing kindness over niceness doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring whether people like me. It means I choose integrity and care despite that fear. And with practice, that choice has become clearer, easier, more natural.
An Invitation to Begin
As Priya Parker reminds us, purpose should be disputable. The moment we try to make purpose so broad that everyone agrees, we lose clarity. The moment we try to please everyone, we serve no one well.
I’ve found this to be true in leadership too. When I prioritize being liked over being honest, when I choose nice over kind, I don’t actually serve anyone—not my team, not the work, not even myself.
If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself—if you feel that familiar pinch when someone asks something of you, or if you’ve caught yourself softening feedback to keep the peace—I want you to know you’re not alone in this. And the shift doesn’t have to happen all at once.
This week, just notice. Notice one moment where you feel that pull to be nice instead of kind. You don’t have to change anything yet—just observe it. Where does it show up in your body? What are you protecting yourself from?
Then, if you’re ready, practice one small pause. When you feel that pull, slow down. Acknowledge the input or the request. Thank people for their contribution. Then give yourself time to evaluate against purpose before responding.
**Ask yourself gently: **
“What would the kind choice be here, even if it’s uncomfortable?”
Not the choice that keeps everyone happy. Not the choice that protects you from conflict. The choice that serves the person, the team, or the work—even when it requires courage.
This is where I’ve found leadership actually lives—not in the comfort of agreement, but in the courage of clarity. And that courage? It grows with practice.
“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response.” — Viktor Frankl
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