What did I expect?
When I talk about leadership and innovation, I often focus on the essential skills: how to prioritize other people’s success over your own, and how to build environments where innovation thrives. I detail these skills and how they’re honed. But I always conclude with a challenging, non-negotiable principle: you must do all of this without expecting a return—no reciprocity, period.
People nod, they seem to understand, yet I always catch a flicker of skepticism in their eyes. It’s as if this concept is a long-lost memory, obscured by the fog of their current reality. I suspect that skepticism is born from experience. Our professional world is fundamentally transactional. We act, we get a reward. We fail, we anticipate a consequence—especially for others. Even our education system reinforces this: study hard, expect a specific grade.
Yet, we all know success in work and school is deeply relational. A great boss or teacher doesn’t just boost your metrics; they deliver joy, connection, and confidence. It is incredibly difficult to take the actions necessary to create an environment of success, and it becomes exponentially harder when you commit to doing so with no expectation of reward. We all crave recognition for our contributions. But can you want something and still not expect it? That expectation is the silent killer of impact. If a particular outcome is expected and doesn't materialize, it fundamentally alters our next move.
This past week provided a vivid lesson in managing the expectations I place on my own actions. I spoke to a group of senior college students, sharing my latest ideas on high performance, positive work environments, and reducing the impact of irrational decision-making through skill development. As usual, I stressed that the most powerful impact comes when these skills are deployed with zero expectation of a return.
As I was packing up, I overheard a student tell his friends, “I met John a few years ago. He was one of the most helpful people at the College, and what he said today? That’s what he does.” I filed the comment away, but its true weight didn't register until 20 minutes later.
Leaving the building, I bumped into a former colleague I'd last seen on a hiking trail in the summer. We’d stopped to chat for 20 minutes then. After asking after her husband, she took a moment to thank me. She said what I'd shared with her husband during that chance encounter had a profoundly positive impact on his perspective regarding a work challenge he was facing.
Receiving two pieces of genuine, unsolicited feedback within 30 minutes felt like a jolt. It energized me, focused my thinking, and made me deeply happy. The power of this feedback, I realized, stemmed from the fact that I had no expectation of return for my initial helpfulness. I wanted to help, I could help, so I did. In the act of giving, I got my immediate reward—a good feeling.
Because I helped without expectation, the impact was more potent and long-lasting for them. Had I offered that help with a built-in need for even immediate gratitude, I believe my efforts would have been diminished. As humans, we are wired to sense when someone is giving with an expectation of a return. And that feeling often reduces, or even cancels out, the positive results of the initial gift. I learned long ago that acts of care and compassion, given freely, bring me all the joy I need in the moment. I don't want a transactional interaction; I want a transformational one.
Transactional interactions are focused, limited, and time-dependent. They might yield positive outcomes, but they often end quickly or dissolve into conflict. Transformational interactions, however, have limitless boundaries, no timeline, and create positive ripple effects on everyone around us.
The flip side of the expectation game arrived the very next day. After the wave of positive vibes, I made a couple of communication failures, botching a change in training plans. I initially thought I'd been clear, but I hadn't. When the mistakes became obvious, I felt an internal conflict driven by expectation.
I was tempted to minimize my errors and hope my prior commitment to success would be reciprocated by a dismissal of my current errors. That felt wrong, but not as bad as fully owning my mistakes. The latter felt risky because I anticipated criticism and slight, deserved hostility. My expectations—both of myself and of others' reactions—were causing me acute stress.
Reflecting on the previous day’s positive experiences, I realized I had to let go of these negative expectations. I owned the mistakes fully, and guess what? I received incredibly positive and understanding responses from the two people I had failed.
It was another potent reminder of the positive power of letting go of what you expect from others. I still have expectations for my own behaviour—which is hard enough to maintain consistently. But removing the expectation of a specific response from others has made it infinitely easier for me to act the way I want to act: by prioritizing the success of those around me.
Reflect on the people and environments that have had the greatest positive impact on your life. I guarantee someone there was helping without any expectation of a return. Learn to help others with zero expectation of what you will get back, and you will enjoy your work exponentially more. And someday, in the future, you will receive something you didn't expect, and it will leave a permanent mark on you.
