CEO title does not guarantee leadership

It was sometime in 2020. I remember sitting in a large hall during a management gathering, surrounded by professionals from different levels of the organization. The setting was formal, yet charged with expectation. As the host engaged the audience, my attention was fixed, until suddenly my name was called.
I was invited to the stage and asked a simple but powerful question: “Do you think they will become leaders one day?” The host gestured toward a group of middle managers seated in the hall. I glanced briefly to my right where the CEO sat, and to my left where the CHRO was positioned, both symbols of authority and achievement. Without much thought, I replied, “Yes.”
Years later, I find myself questioning that answer—not because those individuals lacked potential, but because I had not fully understood what it truly means to be a leader. Today, I would hesitate before answering. In fact, I might not answer at all.
We live in a time where the word “leader” is used far too loosely. Titles have become substitutes for substance. A department head with a few years of experience is called a leader. A senior manager is labeled a leader. And most conveniently of all, a CEO is automatically crowned a leader the moment they occupy the top office. But leadership, in its true sense, has never been about position. It has never been about hierarchy. And it certainly has never been about comfort.
The uncomfortable truth is that many CEOs are not leaders. They are administrators of power. They are guardians of systems. They are managers of performance. But they are not leaders.
Leadership theory, in its many forms, has consistently emphasized influence over authority. Early ideas such as trait theory suggested that leadership might be an inherent quality, but modern understanding has moved far beyond that simplistic notion. Behavioral and situational models have shown us that leadership is expressed through actions, decisions, and the ability to respond to context. Yet even these frameworks fall short if they ignore a deeper truth: leadership is not about what you achieve for yourself, but what you endure for others.
This is where the thinking of John C. Maxwell becomes particularly relevant. His model of the five levels of leadership quietly exposes a reality many organizations prefer not to confront. At the lowest level, leadership is nothing more than position—people follow because they have to.
This is where many CEOs operate, whether they admit it or not. Their authority is enforced, their instructions are followed, but their influence is shallow. It does not inspire; it compels.
As leaders grow, they move beyond position into relationships, results, and eventually into developing others. But the highest level—the pinnacle—is not reached through power or performance alone. It is reached through character, sacrifice, and a consistent commitment to others. And this is precisely where most CEOs fail.
A true leader does not protect their comfort while their team absorbs the pressure. A true leader does not delegate hardship downward while preserving stability upward.
Leadership, in its most authentic form, demands the opposite. The leader must be the one who absorbs the shock, who carries the burden, who faces uncertainty first so that others can move forward with confidence.
Yet what do we often see? When challenges arise, many CEOs retreat into strategy rooms, insulated by reports and presentations, while the real impact is felt on the ground. Targets increase, expectations rise, and the strain trickles down.
Employees are asked to do more with less, to stretch further, to endure longer. Meanwhile, the leader remains distant, protected by the very system they are supposed to lead. This is not leadership. This is structural authority disguised as leadership.
Transformational leadership theory speaks of vision, inspiration, and change. It describes leaders who elevate people, who align purpose with action, who create meaning beyond metrics. But transformation cannot happen without sacrifice. It cannot happen if the leader is unwilling to suffer for the team. A leader who avoids discomfort cannot ask others to endure it. A leader who shields themselves from difficulty cannot inspire resilience in others.
Perhaps this is the real test of leadership—not how many people report to you, but how many people you are willing to protect. Not how much power you hold, but how much pressure you are willing to absorb. Not how high you stand, but how deeply you are willing to stand with your people.
Looking back at that moment in 2020, I realize now that the question was not whether those middle managers would become leaders. The real question was whether they would become something more than the leaders they had seen. Whether they would break the cycle of positional authority and move toward a model of leadership grounded in responsibility, humility, and sacrifice.
So, are CEOs leaders?
Some may be. But many are not.