The Courage to Be Compassionate

By Paul Yung

It’s easy to do the right thing when there is nothing at stake.

It’s easy to talk about integrity when nobody challenges our values. It’s easy to preach kindness when everyone treats us kindly. And it’s certainly easy to show compassion when we’re well rested, emotionally detached and have nothing to lose.

But what happens when everything is at stake?

What happens when somebody does something that goes completely against everything you believe in? When their actions leave you disappointed, frustrated and questioning how someone could have made such decisions?

And worse, when you’re the one left cleaning up the mess?

I’ve been reflecting on these questions quite deeply lately.

Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of leading thousands of people. I’ve witnessed extraordinary kindness, generosity and loyalty. But I’ve also seen how people behave when they feel desperate, cornered, guilty or embarrassed.

Sometimes, what people are capable of doing can genuinely surprise you. And not always in a good way.

What I’ve realised is that the most difficult part of leadership isn’t necessarily identifying right from wrong. Sometimes, that’s the easy part.

The real challenge comes after you’ve spent countless hours trying to make things right. After you’ve examined every detail and invested tremendous emotional energy into resolving a situation you never wanted to be involved in.

By then, you’re exhausted. And when we’re physically and emotionally exhausted, even the most reasonable person can lose perspective.

Our patience wears thin. Our emotions cloud our judgement. And when someone’s actions fundamentally clash with our values, it’s only natural to feel they deserve the full consequences.

Perhaps we even want to throw the entire book at them! But here’s something I’ve been asking myself.

At what point does our pursuit of justice become influenced by our own frustration? It’s an uncomfortable question, especially when we know we’re standing on the right side of an issue.

Yet this is precisely where true leadership begins. Because being right doesn’t automatically mean that every action we take is right.

As leaders, we must uphold standards, protect others and ensure wrongdoing is addressed. There must be accountability. But accountability doesn’t always require humiliation. And justice doesn’t always demand the harshest punishment.

When someone has genuinely acknowledged their mistakes, taken responsibility and made meaningful efforts to correct them, we must ask ourselves what more we’re trying to achieve.

Are we still trying to make things right? Or are we trying to make someone suffer? There is a difference.

Of course, compassion must never come at the expense of fairness or the wellbeing of others. Some actions demand serious consequences, regardless of remorse. Forgiveness should never become permission to repeat the same behaviour.

But where we have discretion, wisdom requires us to look beyond our emotions. To be firm, but kind. To be principled, but compassionate. To recognise that someone can be wrong without being beyond redemption.

I think about this as a father too.

When Adelia or Theo makes a mistake, my responsibility isn’t simply to punish them. It’s to help them understand what went wrong and become better because of it. If they’ve genuinely learned their lesson, what purpose does continuing to punish them serve?

Perhaps we adults could learn something from that question. I believe one of the greatest demonstrations of strength is showing compassion precisely when compassion feels most difficult.

When we’re disappointed, emotionally spent and pushed to the edge of our patience. When we have every opportunity to exercise authority, yet choose to exercise wisdom instead.

That’s not weakness. That’s self-mastery.

Because the greatest strength of a leader is not the power to punish when they are right, but the wisdom to show compassion when it is hardest to do so.