Yesterday, I delivered a full-day leadership workshop for educators to 35 thoughtful, energetic and deeply committed members of BBSPM’s Oxford Schools. The feedback was excellent, but what moved me most was not the praise. It was the seriousness with which the participants entered the inner work of leadership. In a world where schools are often asked to produce better children, we rarely pause to ask a more uncomfortable question: what kind of adults are organising the child’s world?
Leadership Begins Before the Job Title
The workshop was titled “From Roles to Responsibility”, and that distinction mattered from the first hour.
A role can be assigned. Responsibility must be chosen.
A teacher can deliver a syllabus. An educator shapes a life. A manager can supervise tasks. A leader creates the emotional and ethical conditions in which people want to do meaningful work.
We explored this through simple contrasts: cook and chef, tailor and designer, mason and architect, teacher and educator. The point was not to insult execution. Execution is necessary. But leadership begins when a person stops asking, “What is my job description?” and starts asking, “What is the deeper purpose of my presence here?”
That question changes the nervous system of an institution.
A school is not merely a place where lessons are delivered. It is a moral ecosystem. Children do not only learn from textbooks, assemblies and report cards. They learn from how adults arrive late, avoid conflict, speak about absent colleagues, handle errors and treat those with less power.
That is the hidden curriculum. It is rarely printed, but always taught.
The Ethical Weight of Being an Educator
One of the most engaging parts of the day was our work on ethical leadership. We discussed uncomfortable dilemmas because leadership is rarely tested when the choice is obvious. It is tested when all options come with a cost.
Ethics is not the same as feelings. Feelings are important signals, but they are not always reliable compasses. Ethics is not merely law either. Something can be legal and still be unkind, unfair or cowardly. Ethics asks a deeper question: what is the right thing to do when convenience, fear, loyalty and ambition are all whispering at once?
We explored five ethical lenses: the utilitarian approach, the rights approach, justice and fairness, the common good, and the virtue approach. These are not decorative theories. They help leaders slow down the impulsive mind.
The utilitarian approach asks, “What creates the greatest good for the greatest number?”
The rights approach asks, “Whose dignity or freedom must be protected here?”
Justice and fairness ask, “Are we treating people equally or proportionately?”
The common good asks, “What strengthens the whole community?”
The virtue approach asks, “What kind of person am I becoming through this decision?”
For educators, this is not philosophical gymnastics. It is daily life.
Do I give credit where it belongs? Do I protect a colleague’s dignity? Do I speak when a joke quietly humiliates someone? Do I confuse silence with peace? Do I call something “school culture” when it is actually fear dressed in uniform?
The room leaned into these questions with admirable honesty. That is where real learning begins.
A School Is Not a Machine
Many institutions still operate with a machine view of work. Departments are treated as separate parts. If one part fails, we blame it, tighten it or replace it.
But a school is closer to a living organism.
When administration is strained, classrooms feel it. When leadership is unclear, teachers absorb it. When support staff are unseen, the entire culture loses tenderness. When conflict is avoided at the top, it leaks into corridors, staff rooms and student experience.
In the workshop, we explored the difference between parallel work and shared work. In parallel work, departments function politely but separately. People protect their turf. Information moves late. Problems become someone else’s headache.
In shared work, the child becomes the centre of gravity. Academics, administration, support teams and leadership orbit around a common purpose.
This is where leadership becomes spiritual, not in the incense-stick sense, but in the yogic sense of interdependence. The Sanskrit idea of seva, or service, reminds us that work becomes deeper when it is connected to something beyond personal ego.
If a school is an organism, then no organ can say, “The pain is not mine.”
The Psychology of Ownership
One of the strongest conversations yesterday was around ownership. Most organisations say they want people to take ownership. Fewer ask what makes ownership psychologically possible.
Ownership is not just a personality trait. It is shaped by conditions.
In psychology, Self-Determination Theory suggests that people are more motivated when three needs are met: autonomy, competence and relatedness. Put simply, people need some meaningful choice, the ability to grow in skill, and a sense of belonging. Without these, ownership becomes performance. With them, ownership becomes natural.
We also discussed locus of control. An external locus says, “Nothing changes because they do not allow it.” An internal locus asks, “What part of this can I influence today?” This does not mean denying reality. It means refusing to surrender all power to circumstance.
In school cultures, ownership often dies quietly. It dies through vague instructions, overcrowded meetings, unnamed accountability, absent reviews and public blame. Nobody announces its death. It simply stops showing up.
A staff member no longer suggests ideas. A leader stops following up. A team waits for rescue. Everyone looks busy, but the institution becomes slow.
This is why leadership must notice initiative early. When someone raises a concern or offers an idea, silence is not neutral. Silence teaches the brain that effort does not connect to outcome.
Accountability Without Blame
The workshop’s central practical tool was the OAR framework: Outcome, Accountability, Review.
A boat needs an oar. A team does too.
Outcome asks: What exactly are we trying to achieve?
Accountability asks: Who owns this result?
Review asks: When and how will we check progress?
This may sound simple, but many institutions suffer because they run on wishes disguised as plans.
“We will improve communication.”
“We will work on morale.”
“We will streamline admissions.”
“We will coordinate better.”
These are not outcomes. They are clouds wearing formal shoes.
An outcome must be observable. Two intelligent people should be able to agree whether it happened or not. Accountability must have one clear owner. A department can help, but a department cannot wake up at 6 am worrying about the work. A human being does that. Review must be scheduled, not left to memory, mood or panic.
The difference between surveillance and review is also important. Surveillance catches people out. Review helps people prepare. Surveillance creates anxiety. Review creates rhythm.
And rhythm is underrated in leadership. The nervous system works better when it can predict when conversations will happen, what questions will be asked and how repair will be handled.
What the Educators Took Away
The most beautiful part of yesterday was the energy in the room. The educators participated with openness, humour and reflection. They did not sit passively waiting to be entertained. They thought, debated, questioned and applied the ideas to their own context.
That matters because adult learning is not about information transfer. It is about identity interruption.
A good workshop should not merely make people say, “That was interesting.”
It should gently disturb them into asking, “Where am I still hiding behind my role?”
“Where have I mistaken busyness for contribution?”
“Where am I asking students to practise values I avoid as an adult?”
This is not always comfortable work. But comfort has never built a great school. Neither has fear. The real work sits somewhere more mature: disciplined reflection, courageous conversation and shared responsibility.
The Deeper Lesson: Children Are Watching
Every school wants disciplined students, emotionally intelligent students, ethical students, accountable students.
But students learn accountability from adults who own mistakes. They learn respect from adults who disagree without cruelty. They learn integrity from adults who do not use power to escape truth. They learn collaboration from adults who refuse to turn departments into kingdoms.
This is why leadership training for educators is not an optional professional luxury. It is culture work. It is child-development work. It is nation-building in ordinary clothes.
Yesterday reminded me that educators do not simply need more techniques. They need spaces where they can remember the dignity of their work.
Because the question is not only, “How do we run better schools?”
The deeper question is: “What kind of human beings are we becoming while we run them?”
And perhaps that is where all true leadership begins.
Dr Krishna Athal with educators after a powerful day on ownership accountability and leadership 
Dr Krishna Athal with educators after a powerful day on ownership accountability and leadership 
Dr Krishna Athal with educators after a powerful day on ownership accountability and leadership 
Dr Krishna Athal with educators after a powerful day on ownership accountability and leadership
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