These days, leadership feels like it’s all about putting on a show. Everyone’s got a mic in hand, their own podcast, and an X/Twitter thread ready to go viral. There are more “thought leaders” than there are actual thoughts. We’re bombarded with sound-bites and status updates, and most leaders seem convinced their value rises with every word they toss out. If talking were money, the world would be swimming in trillionaires.
Yet here’s the twist: The more leaders talk, the less anyone tunes in. It’s a strange paradox. All this noise, on panels, in meetings, even in WhatsApp groups, blurs together, and the real meaning gets lost. Conversation is no longer about connection; it’s more like a ping-pong match of opinions and rebuttals. Silence, once a mark of wisdom, is now treated like an awkward glitch to be hurried over.
The habit of great leaders
Look at the leaders who left a mark, and you’ll find it wasn’t the sheer quantity of their words that set them apart. It was their sense of timing. Winston Churchill, John F. Kennedy – sure, they could command a room, but their real power came from knowing when to wait, to listen, to absorb. Abraham Lincoln would let the debate rage on, keeping his own counsel until he’d really heard everyone out. Dwight Eisenhower, before D-Day, was famous for listening more than talking. Their silence wasn’t weakness, it was observation. They understood that sometimes the smartest move is to just take it all in.
You see this in Israel’s story, too. David Ben-Gurion, usually remembered for his speeches, was also a master of quiet observation. During the tense debates before the Declaration of Independence, he listened closely to every viewpoint, letting others vent their fears and hopes before calmly steering the conversation toward consensus.
Golda Meir, often the only woman in the room, was known for her ability to listen patiently, sometimes for hours, before weighing in, her words carrying more weight because she rarely wasted them.
Yitzhak Rabin, a man of few words, was famous for his long silences at the table during Oslo negotiations. He absorbed every detail, listening to generals, ministers, and, most importantly, the other side, before offering his opinion. In each case, it was the discipline between the speeches, the willingness to be silent long enough to hear something new, that made all the difference.
Silence as a sign of strength
This is especially true in the military. In Israel, where a single careless word can have massive consequences, the IDF’s best commanders are often the ones who listen hardest. It’s not unusual for a young officer to spot something everyone else misses, but only if the room’s quiet enough for them to speak up. Over-talking doesn’t just waste time, it shuts down feedback, stifles dissent, and can lead to costly mistakes. History is littered with generals whose endless talking tipped their hand or boxed them into corners. The problem isn’t too few words, it’s too many.
So why is silence so rare among leaders? Maybe it’s because we’ve forgotten that listening is the highest form of respect. You don’t learn anything while you’re talking. Once, silence was a sign of strength. Now, we scramble to fill every pause with content, every gap with commentary. We’re so busy rehearsing our next clever line that we miss what’s actually being said.
Real listening, the kind that ditches ego, that doesn’t just wait for its turn to talk, is almost a spiritual act. It’s an act of presence. If there were a running tally of what matters, it wouldn’t count your social media followers. It would count the moments you made someone truly feel heard.
We live in a world drowning in data but starving for meaning. Everyone’s connected, but nobody feels understood. In this endless noise, a leader who really listens, who knows when to pause, when to ask, when to let someone else take the mic, is a rare thing. These are the quiet rebels, the ones who resist the tyranny of nonstop chatter.
The best leaders don’t measure themselves by how much they say. They measure themselves by what happens when they finally do speak, and by what they’ve made room for others to say. They know leadership isn’t a solo act; it’s a conversation. It’s not about being everywhere, all the time. It’s about being truly present when it counts. Sometimes, the boldest thing a leader can do is to stop talking and start listening.
Maybe, in the end, the real test of leadership isn’t in the force of your opinions, but in the depth of your listening.
Dr. Michael J. Salamon is a psychologist specializing in trauma and abuse and director of ADC Psychological Services in Netanya and Hewlett, NY. Louis Libin is an expert in military strategies, wireless innovation, emergency communications, and cybersecurity.