Beware the autonomy trap: some leaders like being told what to do

They say you never forget your first headship. They should also say you don’t forget your second, third or fourth either.

Stepping into my latest role, I was acutely aware that this wasn’t my first time in the hot seat. I knew how to read a budget, I knew the rhythm of the academic year, and I knew how to navigate the complex machinery of multi-academy trusts.

But if years in leadership have taught me anything, it’s that arrogance is a headteacher’s quickest downfall and there is always something new to learn.

Not all leaders want total autonomy

This year that realisation came with a heavy dose of self-awareness regarding how we direct our staff.

Specifically, I had to learn that sometimes total autonomy is not a gift - it can be an anxiety-inducing trap.

Personally, I absolutely hate being told what to do; if someone gives me a rigid script, my natural instinct is to find a way around it.

Operating under the assumption that everyone else craved this same radical freedom that had grown some of my strongest assistant and deputy heads in previous schools, I stepped into the role determined to empower my team by stepping back.

When discussing new initiatives with our developing leaders, I purposely left things open-ended. I thought I was being the ultimate modern, empowering leader. In reality, I was holding them back.

While the seasoned among them embraced this way of working, the newer, less experienced leaders suffered.

The starkest example of this happened early on when working with a colleague who was new to leadership. I tasked them with a major objective: “Get all of our unqualified staff on a route to QTS.”

I wrapped it up with a supportive, “Go wild, I trust your judgment,” and assumed that they would relish the opportunity to shape the project.

Instead of sparking a wave of creative innovation, though, my open-ended brief led to immediate confusion and paralysis.

I hadn’t empowered them at all. I had completely failed to realise that they had absolutely no clue how to go about the task, and they were left stressed, stalled and seeking reassurance.

Shifting to mentorship

The turning point came during a follow-up meeting.

When I asked how the QTS strategy was progressing, they looked at me with refreshing candour and explained that without clear parameters, they felt entirely at sea. While I viewed explicit direction as restrictive, they viewed it as safety.

It was a profound lesson: providing structured guardrails isn’t micro-management; when done right, it is an act of kindness and vital mentorship.

I immediately adapted my approach and began replacing vague autonomy with explicit clarity.

Instead of: “Get all of our unqualified staff on a route to QTS.”

I pivoted to: “First, let’s find out exactly what qualifications each of our unqualified staff members currently hold.

“Then I want you to research the practical differences between the assessment-only route, Teach First, teaching apprenticeships, and school-centred initial teacher training. Once you’ve got that mapped out, let’s sit down together and review which route would be the right fit for each individual.”

The impact of this shift was immediate and overwhelmingly positive. When given a structured framework, this leader thrived. They no longer wasted emotional energy trying to guess what was inside my head. Instead, they could channel all their focus into the execution of the task.

Clear impact

Taking this same approach with other staff led to a dramatic uptick in project completion rates, a massive drop in leadership anxiety, and a surge in confidence.

In short, providing strict boundaries gave them the psychological security they needed to take ownership and innovate within those boundaries.

Moving into year two, my naive belief that everyone wants a totally blank canvas has been firmly relegated to the “epic fail bin” along with the rigid options pathway plan and the salad bar in the canteen.

I am returning to school with much more intention about providing clear, structured guardrails to those who need them to thrive.

Hannah Carter is headteacher at Orchards Academy in Kent, part of The Kemnal Academies Trust