When was the last time you reviewed your past, present, and yet to be?

It was a dark and stormy afternoon. Eb was in the middle of chewing out stupid Bob, who was on the verge of tears.

Eb was furious at Bob for his constant nattering about Eb’s alleged neglect of the corporate mission. “What a lot of hooey!” Eb yelled. “The mission’s just a sap to sell more stock to do-gooder shareholders, or haven’t you figured that out yet!”

With that he summarily fired Bob. “I want you out of here by five, sharp!”

Bob gasped, “But, sir, it’s Christmas Eve!”

Eb relished for a moment the tears welling up in the poor man’s eyes. What a crybaby! Eb then snapped at him, “If I could, I’d fire you on Christmas! Now pack up your belongings and get out!”

As pathetic Bob shuffled out the door, Eb enjoyed the man’s departing sniffles and thought how satisfying it was to fire Bob Cratchit on Christmas Eve. He might just have to make the Christmas Eve firing a tradition.

What happens when people obey in advance?

Once bully bosses establish themselves as the alphas, many employees will submit in advance with little prompting. Capitulators compromise their values, betray loyalties, and even sacrifice their own most fundamental interests to cater to a boss’s whims. Here’s a simple rule: True leaders never obey in advance.

Great leaders act. They strive to do good—to do both good work and good works. Everything else they leave to the neutrals—those chronically indifferent, morally gutless, and ethically spineless “caitiff wretches”—the chief enemy of the good.

When the neutrals sit down, you know it’s time for the leaders to stand up.

Love him or despise him, Clinton stood as a colossus in American politics despite his profusion of personal failings, retrograde behaviors, and carnal appetites—which seem almost quaint today. One of the keys to his apparent political success was also his greatest deficit as a person: his ability to compartmentalize.

Let’s talk about that most persistent of boss myths: that the tougher they are, the more effective they are. This nonsense is related to the “strongman” myth in politics, which assumes that authoritarian leaders are somehow superior at getting things done. There’s that tired line about how Benito Mussolini, the brutal fascist dictator of Italy known as Il Duce, got the decrepit Italian trains to run on time. Except he didn’t. What worked so well in fascist Italy wasn’t the rail system; it was Mussolini’s propaganda machine.

The Ancient Greek philosopher Plutarch may offer some insight here. Plutarch wrote, “I don’t need a friend who changes when I change and who nods when I nod.” Perhaps feeling a little cheeky, he added, “My shadow does that much better.” Plutarch certainly would have rejected an enabling shadow like Jeff Greene as a friend. As it goes with television characters and Greek philosophers, so it goes with leaders. Unchecked personal loyalty can be detrimental and even destructive as we see with Larry’s friend Jeff. As Plutarch suggests, such an ally is as useless as a shadow or worse.

We all know the type. Think of television and movie characters such as Logan Roy from Succession. Or consider historical world leaders such as Napoleon. What do all these individuals—real or imagined—have in common? They have all embraced the “strongman” model of leadership . The strongman model occurs far more prevalently in everyday life. It’s the way of many or even most bosses.

Just the other day, something extraordinary happened. Someone praised me.

Not that no one ever praises me, but it was the context that made it land differently.

For years, I struggled to accept compliments with the grace they deserve. When praised, my mind would grumble, “What’s their angle” or “If only they knew…” I’d tell myself I needed to dismiss their recognition so I could “stay humble,” which really just reflected a limiting belief that I'm not deserving.

Like all limiting beliefs, it’s silly and untrue of course; earned praise is deserved praise. I eventually realized how off-putting it was when I deflected others’ compliments. I wasn’t being humble. I was being ungracious and ungrateful.

So, I learned to accept compliments in the spirit they’re offered. This shift also unlocked the door to gratitude and its rewards.

What happened the other day reminded me of all this.

Bossplainers have a compulsion to expound on how to do everything. Their behavior is utterly demoralizing because it starts and ends with the assumption that people don’t know what they’re doing. Every error—perceived or real—is blown out of proportion.

One of my favorite sayings comes from Mike Tyson, the champion boxer:

Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.

So, if plans are so useless, why plan?