The most dangerous leadership failure isn’t incompetence—it’s convenient patience.
At the dedication of the Mishkan, the affluent princes of each tribe, the Nesi’im, were the last to bring their offerings.
Their thinking was to allow the regular folks the opportunity to contribute, and they’d backstop the project; whatever was missing, they would cover. They waited to see what was needed, filling in the gaps rather than seeking personal recognition.
At first glance, their decision seems noble—selfless, even. They intended to support rather than overshadow. Yet, in their hesitation, they miscalculated. In the end, the people had provided everything except for some final touches.
Rav Yeruchem Levovitz observes that they had rationalized their delay as generosity, but it contained an element of laziness, a passive reluctance to lead from the front. Their plan wasn’t wholly virtuous; it was a little too convenient.
When we delay action in moments that demand initiative, our leadership loses something. The Torah describes their gifts with a missing letter—subtly highlighting that something about their contribution was defective – נשיאים / נשאים. The princes lost not just a letter but their opportunity to inspire others through example.
They were not the first or last to fall into this trap. This pattern of leadership—stepping in only when gaps appear—is not unique to the princes. It recurs in all spheres of leadership, from personal responsibility to communal roles. Telling yourself you’ll backstop whatever is missing can feel magnanimous. It’s an easy way to look generous while avoiding the hard work of true leadership.
Leadership isn’t about waiting until the last moment to patch holes. It’s about stepping in before gaps appear. It’s about anticipating needs, not just reacting to them. Being the safety net isn’t the same as carrying the weight. The finest contributions come from those who engage early, not those who wait for necessity to force their hand.
When backstopping becomes a way to compensate for prior inaction, it can be a comfortable excuse rather than a noble act. Virtue is not in waiting until urgency forces movement but in acting when it is most challenging—when excuses are easiest to make.
As our sages teach, in a place without leaders, strive to be a leader—not when it’s easy, but when it’s most needed.
Rationalizing laziness is one of the subtlest self-deceptions. It sometimes wears the mask of mercy, patience, and even wisdom. “I’m just letting others have a chance!” We convince ourselves that patience is wisdom when it’s often fear disguised as strategy. A mindset that feels wise and generous can mask a reluctance to bear the full weight of responsibility.
Failure to act early is a timeless lesson. Consider a struggling company. A leader who swoops in when bankruptcy looms may be hailed as a savior—but where was that leadership when the first cracks appeared?
The test is simple: am I waiting because others need space, or because I need comfort?
True leadership isn’t about last-minute heroics; it’s about stepping up so the crisis never comes.