With St. Patrick’s Day just around the corner, the idea of luck is on everyone’s mind. The “luck of the Irish,” a phrase steeped in history and folklore, becomes a common refrain. Many of us at the helm of our organizations relate to the concept of luck, albeit not always in a celebratory manner. How many of us have looked at our careers, our successes, and the companies we’ve built, and privately wondered, “Did I just get lucky?
If you’ve ever felt a pang of that sentiment, you’re in good company. It’s a feeling that’s more common in the C-suite than you might imagine. It’s the quiet whisper of imposter syndrome, the nagging doubt that we are, in some way, frauds who have been in the right place at the right time. We downplay our successes, attribute them to external factors, and live with a quiet fear that one day, everyone will discover we don’t really know what we’re doing. This month, as we ponder the nature of luck, I believe it’s the perfect time to have an honest conversation about the interplay between fortune, hard work, and leadership.
The Epidemic of Executive Self-Doubt
For years, I thought I was one of the few who felt this way. I’d look at my peers, exuding confidence and certainty, and assume they were built from a different cloth. The reality, I’ve learned, is that the calm exterior often belies a similar internal struggle. The statistics are staggering. A recent Korn Ferry survey of nearly 400 executives found that a jaw-dropping 71% of U.S. CEOs experience imposter syndrome. Let that sink in. The very people who are supposed to be the paragons of decisiveness and vision are, in large numbers, grappling with feelings of inadequacy.
This isn’t just a CEO phenomenon. The same study revealed that 65% of senior executives feel the same way. What’s fascinating, and perhaps counterintuitive, is that this feeling intensifies as you climb the corporate ladder. Only 33% of early-stage professionals report feeling like imposters. This suggests a strange paradox: the more successful you become, the more likely you are to feel like you don’t deserve it. It’s a heavy burden to carry, and it’s one that the modern world has only made heavier.
Let’s be real for a second. When we say our success was just “luck,” what are we really doing? It’s a convenient story, isn’t it? It keeps us humble and manages expectations. But it’s a cop-out. It’s a way of forgetting the grit, the sweat, and the sheer force of will it took to get here. It’s a highlight reel that skips the late nights and the tough calls.
I’m sure you’ve heard that old line, “The harder I work, the luckier I get.” It’s a bit of a cliché, I know. But it’s stuck around for a reason. What we call a “lucky break” is almost always the result of a thousand moments of just grinding it out. It’s the years we spent in the trenches, learning our craft. The relationships we built when we had nothing to offer and having the guts to take a risk when everyone else was playing it safe. That’s not luck. That’s earning it.
Think about it. That big promotion you got? Was it just luck, or was it the result of you consistently going above and beyond? That game-changing idea you had? Did it just pop into your head, or did it come from years of being immersed in your industry? The strong team you’ve built? Did they just fall into your lap, or did you painstakingly recruit, mentor, and inspire them? When you really dig into it, you’ll find that your “luck” has your fingerprints all over it.
It’s a funny thing, but the more you know, the more you realize how much you don’t know. That’s the curse of competence. Your expertise gives you a front-row seat to all the complexities and uncertainties of your field. You see the things that could go wrong, the nuances that others miss. And that can make you feel like you’re in over your head, even when you’re the most qualified person in the room.
Meanwhile, you see others with a fraction of your experience who are brimming with confidence. They don’t know what they don’t know, so they charge ahead without a second thought. It’s easy to mistake that for competence, but it’s often just a lack of awareness. Your self-doubt isn’t a weakness. It’s a sign that you’re paying attention. It’s what keeps you on your toes, what drives you to keep learning, and what pushes you to build a team of people who can challenge you.
The Invisible Work of Leadership
Part of the reason we’re so quick to attribute our success to luck is that so much of the work of leadership is invisible. It’s the emotional labor of managing a team, the strategic thinking that happens in the quiet moments of the early morning, and the weight of carrying the responsibility for your employees’ livelihoods. It’s the lonely burden of making the final call on a tough decision, knowing that you will be the one to bear the consequences, good or bad.
That stuff doesn’t show up on a balance sheet. It’s not in a quarterly report. But it’s the real engine of success. It’s the steady hand on the tiller, the unwavering belief in the vision, and the quiet courage to stay the course when things get tough. When we say we got “lucky,” we’re dismissing all of that vital, and frankly, exhausting, work. We’re telling ourselves that the hardest parts of our job don’t really count.
So how do we get this right? How do we own our success without becoming arrogant? I think it starts with being honest about the role of fortune. The legendary investor Warren Buffett talks about winning the “ovarian lottery.” He’s not shy about admitting that being born in the right country, at the right time, gave him a huge advantage. That’s not being falsely modest; that’s just being real.
We can all do that. We can be thankful for the good fortune that has come our way, for the people who have helped us, and for the doors that have opened. Yet, being grateful doesn’t mean we have to erase our own contributions. It’s not a zero-sum game. You can be both lucky and deserving. You can be both fortunate and a force to be reckoned with.
It’s all about the story you tell yourself. Instead of “I was just lucky,” try “I was ready when the opportunity came.” Instead of “I don’t deserve this,” try “I’ve earned my place here, and I’m grateful for it.” That little voice in your head that tells you you’re a fraud? It’s not a sign of weakness. It just means you care, you have high standards, and you want to do your best.
I’ve come to believe that being open about our own struggles, including our battles with imposter syndrome, is one of the most powerful things we can do as leaders. It lets our teams know it’s okay to be human, to not have all the answers, and to ask for help. It creates a culture where people feel safe enough to take risks, to be creative, and to bring their whole selves to work.
So, this March, when you’re raising a glass to the luck of the Irish, take a moment to raise a glass to yourself. To the long hours, the tough calls, and the drive that got you here. You’ve earned your seat at the table. You’re not an imposter. You’re a leader. And that has nothing to do with luck. Happy St. Patrick’s Day! Ready to surround yourself with other leaders? Be a guest at our next BOAR Room.
