This is a true story, and I’ll keep it short and 100% relevant to delegation.
Back in high school in Germany, we had something called “project week,” where students could choose a focus. I chose decathlon. I wasn’t passionate about it. Far from it. But for a hyperactive, ADHD-type teenager like me (probably also dyslexic), it was still a better option than philosophy, abstract painting, or creative story writing.
I had no formal training in any of the ten events. Some of the other students were already part of athletic clubs. I was just a decent athlete trying to survive the week. And mostly, I did. Sometimes I even surprised myself under those blue skies.
But then came pole vault.
I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t plant the pole right, coordinate the timing or even leave the ground. On competition day, I told our coach, Herr Giar, “I’ll skip this one.” I was disappointed, because I had a real shot at placing in the top five overall.
But Herr Giar said, “You can start at 20 cm. Just jog, stick the pole in, and hop over. Don’t even try to use it to lift yourself yet.” So, I did. And it worked.
Then he said, “Let’s raise the bar.” We did, slowly, gradually, without pressure. And here’s the key: I had nothing to lose. No one expected anything from me in this discipline, so bravery wasn’t hard. I just focused on the next bar.
To my surprise, I kept going. Until I beat the club-trained athletes and finished second overall. Detlev who came first also had no formal training. I never touched a pole again after that week. However, under the right conditions, I can absolutely see myself getting into it. Because of how it made me feel.
This story has stayed with me not because of the score, but because of what I felt in those moments. I’ve brought it into coaching and leadership development programs. It’s helped me explore a question I now use often:
What really happened that day? And what made it possible?
Delegation as a Neuro-Emotional Journey
Over the years, I’ve revisited that story from every angle as someone deeply interested in how people grow. What stayed with me wasn’t just the outcome. It was the sequence of internal shifts I went through. I’ve used this story to prompt reflection in coaching sessions and leadership conversations, and I started to notice a pattern. Let me walk you through what I believe now happens in those moments—not just for me, but for anyone being stretched by a new challenge or a delegated task.
- It started when there was nothing to lose. My first emotion? Safety.
There were no expectations, no fear of failure. That safety created emotional space—space where trial and error wasn’t risky, where mistakes didn’t feel like threats. That’s where learning begins. Serotonin plays a role here, calming the nervous system, signaling: You’re okay. Try something. - Then, after a few low jumps, something lit up: “Oh… I can.”
A small hit of dopamine, maybe—but enough to nudge me forward. That moment of surprise, of breaking through an assumed limitation, felt like a spark. The leader’s role here? Name it. Celebrate it. Recognition fuels momentum. - And then came the shift: “Let’s focus.”This wasn’t just enthusiasm. It was intention. Something inside me moved from casual to committed. Neuroscience backs this up: once we gain something—even a little competence—we work harder to keep it. Loss aversion kicks in. We don’t want to lose what we’ve started to build. That’s when acetylcholine gets released. It tunes out distractions and says: This matters now. The leader’s job? Clear the clutter. Remove noise. And give them a reputation to live up to—based on what they’ve actually shown.
- From there, it snowballed: “I can—and I want more.”
Now, energy builds. The person feels ready for stretch. The challenge must rise just enough—supported, not micromanaged. This stage blends dopamine and noradrenaline, fueling drive and focus. - Then comes boldness: “I’ll take the risk—I’ve still got nothing to lose.”
There was courage. Willingness. That blend of noradrenaline and oxytocin brought both urgency and connection. The leader’s role? Amplify visibility. Share ownership. Make the risk meaningful, not punishing. - And finally: “Even if I fail, I’m solid enough to handle it.” That’s real confidence—earned, not performed. At this stage, the leader must step back with trust. Delegate real responsibility. Show belief that lasts beyond this task. Here, oxytocin, acetylcholine, and dopamine combine, creating a foundation for the next leap.
This isn’t just delegation. It’s a neuro-emotional journey, one that moves from safety to boldness, from “maybe” to mastery. And if we, as leaders, understand it, we can shape it, support it, and repeat it.
Here is a table useful for delegation, summarizing how I felt and thought, and how Herr Giar led me on that late spring day in 1988 at Ostschule, Giessen, Germany.
| Stage | What I Thought | How I Felt | What a Leader Should Do | Dominant Neurotransmitter(s) |
| 1. Start | “I can’t, but got nothing to lose.” | Curious, unpressured | Lower the perceived risk. Normalize failure. Create psychological safety. Allow for a quick win. | Serotonin – creates calm and openness |
| 2. Breakthrough | “Oh… I can.” (After a few quick wins) | Surprised, empowered | Acknowledge the breakthrough. Reflect belief. Reinforce the shift. | Dopamine – fuels reward and motivation |
| 3. Focus | “Let’s focus.” | Hopeful, intentional | Clear distractions. Provide structure. “Give them a reputation to live up to.” Dale Carnegie | Acetylcholine – sharpens focus and learning |
| 4. Stretch | “I want to do more.” | Energized, motivated | Raise the challenge slightly. Stay present. Avoid micromanaging. | Dopamine + Noradrenaline – boost drive and engagement |
| 5. Risk | “I’ll take the risk.” | Bold, willing | Share ownership. Provide visibility. Make risk meaningful, not punishing. | Noradrenaline + Oxytocin – create urgency and connection |
| 6. Maturity | “Even if I fail, I’ll be fine.” | Confident, grounded | Step back with trust. Delegate real responsibility. Signal long-term belief. | Oxytocin + Acetylcholine + Dopamine – enable trust, focus, and resilience |
