By Mac Bogert
“True leadership only exists if people follow when they have the freedom not to.”
– Jim Collins
Connective Tissue
I delivered my first virtual class in 2009. I stood before a blue screen behind a desk, with a giant monitor across the studio showing my slides on one side and the U.S. Capitol on the other. Two technicians sat behind soundproof glass to my left. I never saw the 23 participants and could only interact with them via a chat window on my laptop. To the audience I probably looked disengaged, and afterward I felt surreal and exhausted.
Yet the learners reported a different experience. Their feedback revealed they felt more engaged than in many face-to-face sessions, their breakout discussions were more focused than typical in-person table groups, and—in a surprising twist—they felt connected to me as a fellow learner rather than as a remote instructor. Their test results reinforced this: multiple-choice scores were strong, and the short-answer responses were long, thoughtful essays. I felt drained while they overperformed. What explained that paradox?
It occurred to me that my discomfort was less about the medium and more about novelty. The traditional classroom often imposes structures that limit leadership and student ownership. The digital classroom, by contrast, can create space for learners to connect, take responsibility, and lead their own learning. In other words, the shift to virtual formats exposed a deeper opportunity: to make leadership the connective tissue of continuous learning.
“Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson
Nature Abhors a Vacuum
The pandemic accelerated the breakdown of the old, large-scale model of schooling and opened unprecedented access to virtual connection. This disruption has placed learners squarely in charge of their development in ways many systems were not prepared to acknowledge. As schools reinvent themselves, anything that obstructs student agency should be rethought: rigid age segregation, one-directional lesson delivery, top-down administrative control, and assessments that measure compliance rather than learning. When we remove the predictable, linear structures of traditional schooling, we create a vacuum—and that vacuum is precisely where leadership can take root.
Disciplines like STEM, STEAM, social studies, performing arts, and shop provide essential content: what to know. Now, the current moment is an ideal time to pair that content with instruction in how to be—to cultivate empathy, political savvy, active listening, constructive feedback, diverse learning approaches, engagement, and accountability. Those qualities are best developed not by lecturing but by modeling and by designing contexts that nurture shared leadership and student agency.
I expect that the future of learning will blend face-to-face and virtual experiences, mixing synchronous and asynchronous formats. The path forward will not be a straight line, so linear thinking about power, control, and leadership will be inadequate. Rather than offer a single solution, I’ll suggest a direction: let shared leadership inform how we design learning environments.
“It’s not about scarcity, it’s about abundance: The more power we share, the more power there is.”
– Allen Zabriskie
Power and Control
If you want to understand power and leadership, watch children play. Play reveals how power emerges organically when control is relaxed. Our classrooms—whether for kindergartners or corporate trainees—too often mistake management for leadership. Learning Management Systems (LMS) and conventional lesson plans can reinforce a chalk-and-blackboard approach: information parceled out in narrow increments, tightly scripted tasks, and rigid rules that implicitly assume learners need to be micromanaged.
Boundaries and expectations are necessary, but rules that do not foster shared leadership should be reconsidered. More regulations do not create more learning. Peter Senge once suggested that a job description might simply read: LEARN. Children and adults notice hypocrisy and respond accordingly; if we want learners to grow, we must trust them to construct resilient learning habits. True capacity develops through trial and error, emotional and cognitive challenge, and authentic responsibility. You can’t learn to swim by miming strokes while seated in rows.
Consider embracing the idea that human curiosity, creativity, and discovery flourish inversely to the weight of external control—the heavier the control, the less the creative power. Design spaces that encourage experimentation, collaborative problem-solving, and student-led inquiry. Such environments shift authority in ways that build competence and agency.
“There’s a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in.”
– Leonard Cohen
Timing
We now find ourselves at the intersection of technological transformation, social disruption, economic uncertainty, and cultural change. Like a caterpillar’s metamorphosis, parts of our educational system must dissolve before something new can emerge. That dissolution is painful and unsettling for many people, but it also creates an opening for reinvention.
The course we take will not be linear. Ambiguity, risk, vulnerability, and creative experimentation are essential if we hope to construct a better learning ecosystem. The question becomes: who decides what to do, when, why, and how? The answer I advocate is simple and radical: everyone. Students, educators, administrators, families, and communities all deserve voice and responsibility in designing learning experiences.
We owe the next generation more than platitudes—they deserve to inherit an education system in which they were trusted to help build the future. Imagine young people looking back and saying, “The adults didn’t run and hide; they made it better, and they trusted us to lead.” That outcome is possible if we choose collaborative, student-centered pathways now.
As a companion resource, I have participated in a pro bono podcast called back2different, which gathers international voices discussing how to move forward rather than revert to old practices.
About the author
Mac Bogert is President of AZA Learning and a regular columnist for the Learning Counsel. He began his career as an English teacher and has spent the past 25 years focused on the intersection of leadership and learning. He is also a musician, professional actor, yacht charter captain, staff development consultant, curriculum designer, and the author of Learning Chaos.