Conviction Is a Choice, Not a Trait
Why your beliefs mean nothing without action
There’s a quiet lie a lot of leaders tell themselves. It usually goes something like this:
“I’m a good person. I know what matters. I have strong values.”
We like to believe that our character is baked into who we are. Like eye color or blood type—something we just have.
But that’s not how it works.
At least not according to General Stanley McChrystal. And honestly, not according to any of us who’ve been in the arena long enough to realize that action—not intention—is the real scoreboard.
McChrystal puts it bluntly in his recent book, On Character:
Character = Conviction × Discipline.
It's a formula that looks simple. But it’s sharp enough to cut. Because it forces a hard truth into the open: what you believe doesn’t matter unless you live it.
We All Say the Right Things
Ask any CEO, manager, or founder what they believe in, and they’ll probably rattle off a list that sounds great on paper. Integrity. Respect. Excellence. Maybe a few other crowd-pleasers. Heck, check their company’s About page, and it’s practically a hymn.
But press deeper, and the cracks show.
The CEO who talks about transparency but dodges tough conversations.
The team leader who says people are the company’s greatest asset—but uses layoffs as the first option, not the last resort.
The founder who preaches about long-term value and purpose, then pivots at the first whiff of a better multiple.
It’s not that they’re bad people. Most of the time, they’re not. It’s that conviction—real conviction—is rare. Because real conviction comes with weight. And we tend to avoid weight wherever we can.
Conviction Isn’t Given. It’s Built.
McChrystal doesn’t treat conviction like a trait you either have or don’t. He treats it like a structure—something you build, piece by piece.
And like any structure, it needs a foundation. You can’t just repeat slogans or copy beliefs from someone else. You’ve got to put in the time. You've got to wrestle with hard questions and hold onto the answers even when they cost you something.
It’s not glamorous. It’s not loud. And it sure as hell isn’t optimized for social media.
But it’s what separates people who stand for something from those who fall for anything.
And once you know what you believe, discipline is what gives it shape. Not the kind of discipline that just shows up at 5:00 a.m. with a protein shake and a kettlebell. The kind that shows up when nobody’s watching. When there’s no reward. When the easy thing would be to say nothing and do even less.
The Workplace Is Full of Ghost Values
You can spot them a mile away. Company values etched in glass, printed on brochures, whispered like prayers at all-hands meetings.
But the real culture—the real character of the place—shows up in the gaps. The gaps between what’s said and what’s done.
If a company says it values integrity but tolerates backchannel politics and passive-aggressive sabotage, what’s the real message?
If a leader says they believe in people first but disappears when things get messy, what does that teach the team?
Those gaps don’t stay neutral. They send signals. And over time, the organization stops listening to the slogans and starts listening to the silences.
We Judge Others by Actions. But Ourselves by Intentions.
It’s one of those quirks of being human. When someone else drops the ball, we assume it’s who they are. When we do it, we explain it away. “I meant well.” “It’s just been a rough week.” “That’s not who I am.”
But here’s the rub: It is. That is who we are.
Because when it comes to conviction, the scoreboard only counts the plays you actually run. Not the ones you drew up in your head.
In one of the more honest moments from On Character, McChrystal writes about being publicly humiliated—his resignation accepted by the President after an avoidable misstep. He could have let it define him. But instead, he used it as a turning point. A forced mirror. A reset. He looked hard at what he believed and how often he had, or hadn’t, lived it.
That’s not weakness. That’s leadership.
Discipline Is the Bridge
We love to celebrate beliefs. It’s easy to stand for something when there’s no pressure.
But real leadership shows up when the belief costs you something. And that’s where discipline comes in.
Discipline is what gets you to:
Have the hard conversation instead of letting dysfunction grow.
Stick with a teammate who screwed up instead of cutting them loose for convenience.
Make the long-term call when short-term rewards are sitting right there, ripe for the taking.
Discipline isn’t about being rigid. It’s about being anchored.
And in a world that moves fast and breaks things, being anchored is rare.
What You Tolerate, You Endorse
Here’s another uncomfortable truth: You don’t just show your values by what you promote—you show them by what you allow.
That team member who keeps undermining others in meetings? If you let it slide, you’re endorsing it.
That vendor who plays fast and loose with the numbers? If you keep the contract, you’re complicit.
That exec who protects their turf at the expense of the team? If they keep their title, they’ve got your blessing.
Leadership isn’t about speeches. It’s about standards. And when you lower the bar to protect comfort or avoid conflict, you’re building a culture that runs on convenience instead of conviction.
The Power of the Quiet Example
One of the best examples in the book doesn’t come from a general. It comes from McChrystal’s wife.
After he lost his command and career, she didn’t panic. She didn’t spiral. She recalibrated. Immediately. She looked forward while everyone else was looking back.
He says she doesn’t spend time looking in the rearview mirror. Not because she’s in denial, but because she’s committed to what’s next. It’s conviction, not fantasy. And it sets the tone for their life together in a way that outranks any formal command.
That’s the kind of leadership we need more of. Quiet. Consistent. Clear.
So What Do You Actually Believe?
That’s the question this all comes down to.
Not what you say you believe.
Not what your LinkedIn bio claims.
Not what your PR team has written into your talking points.
What you actually believe. And more importantly, what you’re willing to do about it.
Conviction isn’t a badge. It’s a decision you make every single day. And discipline is what makes sure that decision means something.
You can’t fake it for long.
Eventually, people will notice. Your team will notice. And most importantly, you will notice.
The Choice We Make
So here’s the challenge, plain and simple:
Stop advocating values you don’t live.
Stop applauding conviction you don’t act on.
Stop letting good intentions excuse weak behavior.
Start making your actions match your beliefs—even when it’s hard, awkward, or unpopular. Especially then.
Your character isn’t what you say you believe.
It’s what you do when no one’s clapping.