We love the idea of our teams taking ownership. It sounds empowering. It signals maturity and initiative. We tell people — employees, colleagues, partners, even kids — that we want them to “own” something: a project, a task, an outcome. 

But here’s the tension: you can’t ask someone to take ownership if you refuse to let go of control.

Most of us don’t struggle with handing out responsibility — we struggle with stepping back from it. We ask for initiative but expect the work to be done exactly the way we would do it. And when it isn’t, we hover, correct, or take the reins right back. But that’s not ownership. That’s managing-by-rubber-band: you stretch the responsibility out… and then snap it back the second it makes you uncomfortable.

Letting go is uncomfortable because it requires trust. It asks you to believe that someone else’s pathway — imperfect, different, and maybe even slower — is still valid. It means accepting that mistakes will happen. But mistakes aren’t evidence of failure; they’re evidence of learning. You cannot ask someone to grow and then punish every wobble along the way.

Letting go also requires clarity. People can’t take ownership of something if they’re uncertain about what success looks like. The clearer the vision, the easier it is to step back without feeling the need to monitor every move. Clarity enables freedom; vagueness breeds micromanagement.

And once you relinquish that ownership, you must follow through. If you habitually take things back the moment they deviate from your version, you send an unmistakable message: I don’t trust you. Nothing kills your team taking ownership faster. People stop trying, stop reaching, stop stretching. Why take initiative when they know you’ll override them?

Healthy ownership isn’t a command; it’s a relationship. It’s a shared understanding: “This is yours. I’m here if you need me. But I believe you can do this.”

When you create that kind of environment — one where people feel trusted, supported, and genuinely responsible — something powerful happens. People step up. They learn. They surprise you. And the work becomes better not because you controlled it, but because you created space for someone else to bring their best to it.

 

Photo by Ankush Minda on Unsplash