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Years ago, I had a manager who said something to our entire marketing team that I’ll never forget. With complete confidence, she looked around the room and said:

“I can do anything you can do faster and better. But that’s not the point. I can’t do it all alone.”

It landed like a lead balloon.

I remember sitting there thinking, Did she really just say that? That she was better than all of us—but simply too busy to do the work herself? The implication was clear: we were bodies in seats, necessary only because she couldn’t clone herself.

To this day, I still don’t know what point she was trying to make. Was it meant to motivate us? To show vulnerability? To assert dominance? Whatever the intention, it was a failure in judgment. It felt condescending, demoralizing, and utterly tone-deaf.

Strangely, what stuck with me most wasn’t the message. It was the memory it triggered. When I was in middle school in the German school system, we had to learn the musical number “Anything You Can Do (I Can Do Better)” from Annie Get Your Gun in music class. That song played in my head for weeks after the meeting. It became the unintentional theme music of that bizarre interaction. All she really accomplished was installing an annoying earworm into my brain.

Years later, when I became a manager and had the opportunity to build teams, I thought often of that moment, but not as a blueprint. As a warning.

I never wanted to be the smartest person in the room. In fact, I intentionally hired people who were better than me—more creative, more analytical, more technically skilled—or who had talents I lacked entirely. Why would I want a team of minions? That’s not leadership. That’s just resource management with an ego problem.

Leadership, to me, is about building an environment where others can thrive. It’s about spotting brilliance, unlocking potential, and getting out of the way so people can shine. When someone on my team succeeded, I wanted them to own that success. That’s what true leaders do—they create space, not competition.

So if you’re in a position to lead, resist the urge to “Annie Get Your Gun” your team. Don’t try to outshine them. Don’t try to be better than them. Instead, build a team that surpasses you, and be proud of that fact.

The best leaders I’ve known weren’t looking to prove themselves superior. They were focused on building something greater than they could have done alone.

Let your people do what they do best.

And leave the musical numbers in the classroom.