Sustainability in the Headship: Lessons from Calev and Yitro

Jordan Soffer

Late one evening in April of 2020, I got a panicked call from a parent at my school who is also a close friend. “Rabbi,” she said, “the pre-school parent chat is blowing up. They are starting a petition to demand a refund. The chatter is nonstop.” It was the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, and tensions were already high; the last thing we needed was a parent coup. Reflexively, I took the chatter personally and reacted defensively.

In my heart, however, I knew that they had a point. These parents were paying tens of thousands of dollars for education and child-care, and suddenly neither was being offered to them optimally. Their perspective was totally justifiable, whether or not I agreed with it.

The problem, of course, was not in the message but in the messaging. I became defensive instantaneously upon hearing the word “petition.” It wasn’t their request, per se, but rather the public nature that was so grating. It felt like a provocation rather than a partnership.

Fortunately, through a series of transparent and honest conversations, we were able to land on a resolution that felt fair and just to everyone. My happy ending, however, was not a given. I have been blessed with an incredibly strong relationship with both my board and my community, which has allowed our school to thrive. But, as both a head of school and a coach for new heads, I regularly hear peers identify board-relationships as the foremost source of stress and burnout. As a community, we need to consider this relationship and what we can do to ensure its success.

Fortunately, I believe that two recent parashot offer a paradigm for functional governance, as well as a warning about the perils of dysfunction. Our community would be well served to take this advice seriously.

In consecutive parashot, we learn about dramatic, coordinated efforts to challenge Moshe’s leadership. In Parsahat Shelach, the meraglim (spies) conclude that entering Israel, the ultimate promise guiding Bnei Yisrael’s journey, is untenable. In Parsahat Korach, Korach challenges the very morality at the heart of Moshe’s leadership. In both cases, there exists a counter-example that identifies a similar problem, but offers a framework for a radically different resolution.

Much can, and has, been said about the spies leadership failure. Perhaps their report went beyond the scope of their original assignment, and, certainly, they failed to have faith in G-d’s ability to navigate the difficult terrain. Beyond this, however, their failure was quintessentially a failure to support their leader, even in the most difficult times.

Understanding the spies leadership failure from this perspective requires a close read of the text. In Numbers 13:18-20, Moses instructs the spies to inspect the land. In verses 21-25 they appear to follow his instructions, and in verses 27-29 they seem to deliver a mixed report. Nothing until that part appears particularly remarkable, until, in verse 31, after Calev’s impassioned dissent, they proclaim: “We cannot go up against this people, for they are stronger than He!”^[1] 

While that seems to be a damning report, one defined by a lack of faith in God and Moshe, realistically it was a response to Calev, who followed their initial, somewhat unemotional, recap. Certainly they could have had more faith, but they could equally be praised for their willingness to offer an honest assessment.

I believe, however, that their greatest failure occurred in an easily missed word in verse 26: “They brought back a report to them and to the entire community, and they showed them the fruit of the land.” Here they engaged in what I like to now call WhatsApp Advocacy.^[2] Under the guise of looking out for the whole community, they amplified a problem. They gave Moshe no chance to assess, or discuss with G-d. They went public, and created pandemonium. They could have pulled Moshe aside and expressed their unbridled hesitations. Instead, they went to the entire community.

Yehoshua and Calev react to this pandemonium. They insist that the Israelites can prevail, but they never directly disagree with the spies. Had the spies nurtured a closer relationship with Moshe, one built on trust and cooperation, perhaps Calev and Yehoshua would have seconded their hesitations. But once there was communal shock, they understood that their role was to stand by their leader and support him. Perhaps privately, they, too, told Moshe about the giants, but publicly they supported him and prepared to fight with him.

We can see this dynamic even more strikingly if we compare the stories of Yitro and Korach. Both Yitro and Korach challenge Moshe to adopt a more democratized model of leadership.

Yitro asks Moshe (Shemot 18): “What is this thing that you are doing to the people? Why are you alone seated, while all the people stand around you from morning until nightfall?” Korach similarly asks, “You take too much upon yourselves, for the entire community—all of them—are holy, and God is in their midst. Why do you raise yourselves above God’s assembly?” Why is one to be celebrated, and one disdained?

Korach had made sure to gather 250 people around him. He wanted attention. He didn’t want to fix the problem; he wanted to be the hero. Yitro, on the other hand, conducted his conversations privately. There is no mention of anyone besides Moshe or Yitro. They spoke, person to person.

My teacher, Judy Klitsner, writes that “the biblical sequel, which is often subversive in nature, takes the original story back to its beginnings. It then challenges the very premises on which the story is built and reworks many of its conclusions.”  If Yitro is Korach’s subversive sequel (or prequel), and Calev is the sequel to the meraglim, the message is clear: support does not mean forgoing pushing a leader. Support means doing so, but from a place of trust, faith, and partnership.

In his new book, 10 to 25: The Science of Motivating Young People, David Yeager powerfully echoes this point. He describes the power of what he calls “the mentor mindset.” The mentor mindset, as opposed to what he terms the enforced or the protector mindsets, is one that still challenges another person, but does so with a deep commitment to their success. It simultaneously validates and holds accountable. Though Yeager’s research focuses primarily on interactions with younger people, I believe the stories of Yitro and Calev exemplify how it is true of adult leaders, too. Leaders will falter when they experience enforcement in the absence of protection, or protection in the absence of enforcement.

These are not stories of blind obedience opposing thoughtful challenges. These are cases of supportive feedback opposing public shaming. These are stories about how we must push our leaders, but we must do so from a place of love and support. If we can internalize this message, I believe we can transform sustainability in the headship.

^[1] An alternate translation is “for they are stronger than we.”

^[2] Obviously, there was no actual WhatsApp in the desert. I refer to it as WhatsApp advocacy due to its similarity to contemporary examples where individuals use WhatsApp to popularize their cause, rather than speaking directly to people in positions of authority, similar to the example offered above.