What Bernard Law Montgomery Can Teach Today's Business Leaders

What Bernard Law Montgomery Can Teach Today's Business Leaders

The general who won by refusing to hurry is a masterclass in a truth most leadership writing avoids: the very strength that makes you great in one situation can quietly destroy you in another.

Series: Unconventional Leadership, Post #12

Historical
First posted:
Read time:
4 minutes
Written by:
Steven Godson
Leadership

What Bernard Law Montgomery Can Teach Today's Business Leaders

Your Greatest Strength Is Your Greatest Risk

Montgomery's defining quality was patience — a near-religious refusal to commit until the odds were stacked overwhelmingly in his favour. At El Alamein in 1942, it was genius. He absorbed Churchill's fury, refused to be rushed, built up his forces methodically, and won decisively. The press called it a masterpiece.

Then the war moved north and west, and the same patience curdled. After Normandy, his methodical advance gave German forces time to regroup. At the Falaise Gap, hesitation helped let tens of thousands of enemy troops escape an encirclement that should have been decisive. The strength that won the desert cost him the campaign when speed mattered more than thoroughness.

The trait didn't change. The situation did. Montgomery couldn't read the difference.

The most dangerous leaders aren't the ones with obvious weaknesses — those get found out quickly. They're the ones who succeeded massively because of one great strength, and then applied that strength to every situation regardless of fit. Your superpower is situational. Knowing when your instinct is wrong is harder, and rarer, than having good instincts in the first place.

Morale Is Built, Not Ordered

When Montgomery arrived to command the Eighth Army, it was a beaten force — repeatedly promised victory, repeatedly handed defeat, quietly certain its commanders didn't know what they were doing. His first act wasn't a battle plan. It was a campaign to rebuild belief.

He toured units constantly. He spoke plainly to ordinary soldiers. Before El Alamein, he issued a personal message to be read to every man in the army. It was theatre, and he knew it. It also worked.

Before the main offensive, he fought a smaller defensive action at Alam Halfa — a deliberately winnable engagement, chosen partly to give a demoralised army the taste of a victory. He manufactured that first win on purpose.

You cannot lecture cynical people into confidence. You earn your way out of low morale by being visible, explaining context, and engineering an early win when belief is at its lowest. Cynicism is the default state of any workforce that's been over-promised and under-delivered. There's no shortcut through it.

The Courage to Be the Only No

Montgomery was infuriatingly stubborn. He clashed with Eisenhower, sparred with Patton, and alienated nearly every peer he had. Some of this was ego. Some of it was the moral courage to hold an unpopular line because he believed it was right.

He wasn't always correct — Operation Market Garden, his plan, his push, his overreach, was a costly disaster. Being willing to hold a position doesn't guarantee the position is right.

But the underlying principle survives his poor judgement. A leader who tells powerful people only what they want to hear is failing at the actual job. Disagreement, voiced clearly and early, is a professional duty. Reserve your strong stands for decisions that genuinely matter, and let the rest go. And once a decision is made — even one you fought against — execute it wholeheartedly. That second half is where most leaders fail.

Manage the Monty in Yourself

Montgomery's ego and tactlessness did real damage to the Allied war effort. His compulsive self-promotion soured a coalition that depended on cooperation. His inability to handle relationships created friction that a little grace would have dissolved. He was brilliant and genuinely costly, and the two were inseparable.

The real organisational genius of the war wasn't Montgomery — it was Eisenhower, who held a coalition of monstrous egos together long enough to win. Behind every strong, capable, difficult leader, there needs to be someone whose temperament corrects for theirs rather than amplifies it.

Most of all: your personality flaws don't stay contained. They scale. The edge you got away with as an individual contributor becomes corrosive when hundreds of people have to absorb it daily. Self-awareness — knowing what you're bad at and actively compensating for it — is the most adult thing a leader can do. The leaders who cause the most lasting harm aren't the incompetent ones. They're the gifted ones who mistook being right often for being right always.

Comments

Loading...

Leave a comment