Reflections on Connection-Centered Leadership - Issue No. 24: The Hidden Cost of Capability

Photo Credit: Melissa Swonger; Featured: Darin Swonger; Colorado 2025

Capability is a strange thing.

Most of us spend years trying to develop it. We earn degrees, gain experience, build skills, solve problems, and learn how to navigate increasingly complex situations. Over time, we become the go-to person people call.

Then one day, we realize the very thing that opened doors has also made it difficult to know which ones to walk through. As we become more capable, opportunities tend to increase. Some are exciting. Some are meaningful. Some align beautifully with our values and long-term goals. Others simply need someone willing and able to step in.

At first, this feels like success. Being trusted is a gift. Being invited into meaningful work is a gift. Having opportunities to make impactful contributions is a gift. Yet many capable people eventually encounter a challenge they never anticipated. The problem is rarely a lack of opportunity. The problem is deciding which opportunities are an aligned yes.

I came across research examining what has been termed the "enthusiasm penalty." Researchers found that managers were significantly more likely to assign additional work to employees they perceived as highly motivated, assuming those employees would welcome the opportunity. The very qualities that made these employees valuable also made them more likely to become overloaded.

The name caught my attention because it describes something many of us have experienced but may never have had language for. It is the dichotomy of positive attributes becoming a burden.

Competence attracts opportunity. Reliability attracts responsibility. Enthusiasm attracts expectations. I suspect most of us don't need research to recognize the pattern. If you are capable, people tend to notice. They bring you projects, ideas, problems, responsibilities, invitations, and opportunities. They see your abilities--which is a great thing! However, any good gift taken to the extreme can be detrimental.

It works well if we know ourselves, maintain healthy boundaries, and operate in an environment where those boundaries are respected. It becomes difficult, and the lines may be blurred when we begin evaluating opportunities based on whether we can do them rather than whether we should.

It's a subtle shift, but one that changes everything.

Early in our careers and leadership journeys, the challenge is often gaining opportunities. We work hard to develop the skills, credibility, and experience necessary to earn trust. We want the opportunity to contribute, lead, create, influence, and make a difference.

Later, the challenge changes. The question is no longer whether opportunities exist. The question becomes which opportunities deserve our attention. Over the years, I have learned that clarity rarely comes from evaluating opportunities one at a time. It comes from understanding what we are building.

Every meaningful structure begins with a blueprint. Yet many of us spend more time evaluating opportunities than defining the architecture of the life we hope to create. We may begin with a clear sense of purpose and direction, only to find ourselves years later pursuing opportunities we never intentionally chose. Not because they were bad opportunities, but because we accepted them one at a time without ever stepping back to ask whether they belonged in the life we were trying to build. One decision doesn't necessarily change the trajectory of a life, though it can. Hundreds of small decisions made without reflection often do.

When we have not identified our values, nearly every opportunity can feel important. When we have not clarified our purpose, every need can begin to feel like our responsibility. When we have not considered the season we are in, every open door can feel like one we should walk through.

One of the most valuable exercises I revisit periodically is examining my personal mission, vision, and values. Though the theme may remain consistent, the application often changes as life changes. 

For me, the process begins with awareness. If I am experiencing internal friction, or if that friction has begun showing up in my relationships, decisions, or priorities, it is usually a signal to pause and pay attention. Friction is often an invitation to examine whether I am operating in alignment with the blueprint I am trying to follow.

The vertical connection is an essential part of that process. I want to know whether I am aligned with God's direction for my life or whether I have become distracted by opportunities that looked good but were never mine to carry.

From there, I can look inward. Do I need stronger boundaries? Have I filled my calendar with good things while leaving little room for what is best? Have I confused being needed with being called? I suspect that is one reason the enthusiasm penalty resonates with so many people. What begins as a strength can quietly become an expectation, both from others and from ourselves.

Only then do I look outward. If I am leading others, am I creating healthy expectations? Am I assuming too much? Am I unintentionally rewarding overextension in the people around me because they are capable and willing?

Those questions rarely provide immediate answers. They do, however, help me discern the difference between an opportunity that aligns with my purpose and one that merely appeals to my capability.

The questions I asked twenty years ago are not the questions I am asking today. The responsibilities I carried while raising four daughters are different from the responsibilities I carry now. Seasons change. Opportunities change. Priorities evolve. The deeper work is ensuring that our decisions remain aligned with who we are and what matters most.

That is one reason I revisit my personal mission, vision, and values periodically. I do the same for our family. It allows me to zoom out and ask whether the decisions I am making today are helping create the life I hope to build tomorrow. Then, when opportunities come, we can discern from a grounded place.

We can approach opportunities from a grounded place rather than from overperformance, people-pleasing, or the need to control outcomes.

Does this align with my values?

Does this support the vision I have for my life and work?

Is this mine to carry in this season?

Am I responding from purpose or from pressure?

Capability is a gift, but it is a poor compass. It can tell us what we can do. It cannot tell us what we are called to do.

For that, we need something deeper. We need clarity about who we are, what matters most, and what we are building. We need to invite the Architect of our lives into the decision-making process. Remaining connected to Him helps us respond with wisdom rather than reaction, even during seasons when the demands are great.

Otherwise, we risk spending years successfully constructing a life we never intended to build.

~ Melissa, Architect of Connection-Centered Leadership The Sage Hill Project