“The price of greatness is responsibility.”
Winston Churchill
When I was in my twenties, fresh out of college, I was given the responsibility of managing our company’s website. At the time, it felt like being handed the keys to a very shiny, very complicated car—one that I wasn’t entirely sure how to drive. So, naturally, I did what anyone in that position would do: I assembled a team.
We weren’t just any team; we were the web team. In hindsight, we operated like a well-oiled Rube Goldberg machine. You know the type—where one thing has to fall into place just so, or the entire contraption grinds to a halt. If one person didn’t hand off their part of the project, everything stalled.
If the content wasn’t written, the design process hit a brick wall. If the designs weren’t ready, the developer couldn’t start. And if the testing didn’t happen, well, let’s just say the project’s “launch day” turned into “let’s pretend this never happened” day.
It was like web team Jenga, where one wrong move—or, more likely, one forgotten email—could send the whole tower crashing down. And let’s face it, in the game of accountability, someone always forgets the email.
The Secret Sauce: Accountability
The thing is, accountability wasn’t just a word we tossed around to sound like a TED Talk—it was the secret sauce that held everything together. It wasn’t about perfection; no one expected anyone to get it right all the time. But what we did expect was this: If you dropped the ball, you didn’t just kick it under the rug and hope nobody noticed. Instead, you owned it, like someone who spills wine on a white carpet at a dinner party and has to admit it with a sheepish grin.
Accountability, at its heart, is about clarity. The kind of clarity that makes everyone breathe a little easier because they know what’s happening, who’s doing what, and what to expect next. It’s about doing what we say we’re going to do.
Sounds simple, right? In theory, yes. In practice, it’s a bit like juggling flaming torches while riding a unicycle—it takes balance, trust, and a whole lot of communication.
And that’s where the real magic of accountability comes in.
Daily Check-ins and Little Moments
It’s not a one-time, big, dramatic moment where someone pulls the team together with a grand speech about responsibility. No, accountability is built in the little moments, the daily check-ins where you ask, “Do you need help with anything?” or, “Is there a roadblock I can help remove?” It’s about making sure people have the space to ask questions, voice concerns, or flag anything unexpected that’s come up in the process.
It’s not about micro-managing; it’s about building accountability into the very process of getting work done. It starts with leadership modeling the behavior—showing that follow-through, communication, and offering help are just part of how the team operates. Over time, it becomes the glue that holds not just projects, but the entire team together. It creates an environment where people trust one another, where they grow together, and where they know they can rely on each other to get things done, even when challenges arise.
Now, let’s not pretend this is always easy. There will be times when someone forgets something—or worse, when you forget something. But in a great team, that’s not a cause for panic. On a great team, nobody’s asking for perfection. But respect? That’s non-negotiable.
Respect for the work, respect for the people, and respect for the process. And part of that respect is following through on what you say you’re going to do. It’s understanding that when one of us drops the ball, we all feel the thud.
The Best and Worst Teams
The best teams? They don’t just talk about accountability—they live it, day in and day out, with ongoing communication that’s less about “who’s to blame” and more about “how can we move this forward together?” It’s about creating an environment where asking a question isn’t seen as a weakness, but as a way to keep the machine running smoothly. And when you do that, something amazing happens: You stop worrying about dropping the ball, and start focusing on passing it—knowing your teammates are ready and waiting to catch it.
The worst teams? They do the exact opposite. They operate in a fog of uncertainty, where everyone’s guessing what the other person is doing—or worse, assuming they’re doing nothing at all. It’s like playing a game of telephone where, by the end, no one knows what the original message was, but everyone’s sure it wasn’t their fault that it got messed up. Accountability in these teams is like a ghost—everyone talks about it, but no one ever really sees it.
On these teams, you’ll hear a lot of “I thought you were handling that” or the dreaded “I assumed it wasn’t my job.” It’s the kind of environment where questions feel like accusations, and people would rather stay quiet than risk looking like they don’t know something. And the result? Projects that fall through the cracks, deadlines that slide past unnoticed, and a whole lot of finger-pointing when things inevitably go sideways.
If you’ve ever worked on one of these teams, you know the feeling. The vague dread that sets in during a meeting when you realize no one has a clear idea of who’s responsible for what. The frustration of getting an email two hours before a deadline asking for something you thought was already done. It’s exhausting, and it’s demoralizing. But here’s the thing: it doesn’t have to be that way.
The Price of Greatness
So, yeah, greatness comes with a price. And that price is paid in small, daily doses of accountability—clarity, communication, and owning your part of the process. Even if your part is just remembering to hit “send”. Because at the end of the day, accountability isn’t some heroic act; it’s the everyday things that hold everything together.
The reality is, we all drop the ball sometimes. What matters is that when it happens, we don’t look around for someone else to pick it up. We grab it, own it, and pass it forward. That’s how teams grow—not by avoiding mistakes, but by facing them, together.
In the end, the real price of greatness isn’t perfection—it’s showing up, again and again, willing to keep things moving, to turn a near-miss into progress. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll get it right on the first try next time. But if not, at least you’ll know your team is there, ready to pick up the pieces.
