From medieval guilds restricting artisan migration to Coca-Cola’s closely guarded formula, from the Spartan scytale to the indecipherable Navajo codes of World War II, from Egyptian mystery schools to elite universities — across every domain, advantage came from knowing something others didn’t, the ability to restrict access to certain information, or both.

Then came the personal computer, followed by the Internet, followed by cloud computing.

Information became faster, cheaper, and easier to find, the infrastructure required to store and process it became available without having to own it, and certain types of companies became faster, cheaper, and easier to start.

Then came AI and LLMs, and the barrier to create something digitally, analyze data, and access “intelligence” dropped to near zero.

Nearly every CEO now has access to the same information, the same models, and seemingly endless possibilities when it comes to production. For the first time, the concept of “more” as a means of establishing one’s superiority as a company is irrelevant.

What happens to leadership when a competitive advantage that has existed since the beginning of time — not just a method of establishing your position within the market and defending it, but also the leverage used to change your position — is no longer an advantage, but simply the starting point? 

It goes back to what it always was:

Determining what a situation calls for, deciding how to move forward on behalf of yourself and others, following through, and remaining answerable for the decision and its consequences.

Discernment and judgment alone aren’t enough

For the last year or so, thought leaders have been echoing some version of the idea that what sets leaders apart and helps them get ahead now is judgment and discernment, that these things “matter now more than ever,” for the reasons stated above.

They’re not wrong. No one ever is when using vague platitudinous statements; that's the benefit of them.

Discernment and judgment don’t not matter for leaders, now or ever, because those faculties are table stakes for executives. 

However, they're wrong in that these two faculties are what’s uniquely required for leaders to get and stay ahead as an organization at this moment in time. 

When it comes to competitive advantages, discernment and judgment are not enough.

To understand why, we must clarify what these two terms actually mean. They are used interchangeably when they’re not, in fact, the same thing. 

Discernment is the faculty that determines whether or not you should engage in something when either the path forward or the outcome is neither clear nor certain due to a void in information that cannot be filled. 

When the next right move is obvious, common sense suffices. When the problem involves obtaining missing information, processing what you know, or simplifying complexity, you leverage intelligence — whether through by doing research or utilizing your prefrontal cortex.

Judgment is the faculty that determines how you should engage if you decide to do so.

Discernment asks: “should I do this?”
Judgment asks: “how should I do this?”

While they differ in definition, they are formed the same way: through repeated encounters with consequences and the willingness to stay in relationship with them. 

In order for something to be a competitive advantage, it has to be rare. This is a structural necessity; if everyone can do, be, or access something, it ceases to be an advantage. 

Discernment and judgment are only required where there is an element of uncertainty.

And true uncertainty, where the path is genuinely opaque, is not as common as leaders would like to believe.

Because there are actually two types of certainty.

There is uncertainty about the outcome of a decision, situation, or the future state of the world.

And there is uncertainty about knowing the next right action to take to move closer to or in the general direction of an objective. 

Below is an example to demonstrate this. Here are the only five possible responses you could have as a CEO when a decision must be made or an action must be taken:

Response 1: I don’t know what action would achieve my objective in this situation.

Response 2: I know what action is appropriate, but I can’t reliably predict its outcome.

Response 3: I know what action is appropriate and have a strong sense of its likely outcomes, but I’m unwilling to experience them — so I won’t act.

Response 4: I know what action is appropriate and have a strong sense of its likely outcomes, but I’m unwilling to experience them — so I’ll outsource the decision to avoid being held responsible if it fails.

Response 5: I know what action is appropriate and have a strong sense of its likely outcomes. I’m willing to experience them, so I’m willing to act.

Only two out of the five possible responses involve genuine certainty. And even then, it would take a very niche situation to have zero idea of what would happen if you made a certain choice or took a certain action. 

Every other response involves enough certainty to move forward.

Times are never unprecedented. Complete certainty doesn’t exist, nor is it required to take action.

But people often confuse not liking their options with not knowing or having them. However, rarely is anyone actually torn, stuck, or trapped who is operating at a CEO level.

You know exactly when a strategy you championed isn’t producing results, and how much credibility you could lose by admitting it.

You know exactly which new senior hire isn’t actually a fit for the company, and how disruptive it will be to replace them.

You know exactly which deal requires promises the product team can’t keep, and what walking away will do to your quarterly numbers.

You know exactly which executive’s behavior you’ve been making excuses for, and how defensive they’ll get when you confront them.

You know exactly which board member will push back, and how standing your ground could jeopardize your standing with them.

In other words, you’re usually very aware of what a decision will cost you — and that awareness can then become the reason you refuse to make it.

Consequences are sometimes rare, but discernment and judgment are not rare because uncertainty is not rare. Therefore, they cannot be competitive advantages.  

What is actually a willingness issue is getting diagnosed as a faculty issue. Therefore, what is actually the new competitive advantage is something else entirely.

Courage is the new competitive advantage

Between CEOs announcing they’re going “all in” on AI and founders posting launch videos with manifestos expressing bold declarations about what they believe, some might think courage is alive and well based on their LinkedIn and Twitter feeds. 

But what we see in the business world today is mostly bravado and performative conviction. If everyone’s doing it and the cost is only financial, it doesn't take courage.

Courage is the willingness to make a decision despite being afraid because it carries a significant personal cost and other options exist.

Just like the use of discernment requires uncertainty, the use of courage requires the presence of fear and choice. 

If you’re not scared, courage isn’t required. And if your back is truly against a wall, you don’t need courage, you need focus and adrenaline.

Courage is developed by placing yourself in situations that require you to practice it. 

While discernment and judgment are cognitive faculties, courage is a somatic capacity. Developing more courage involves staying present with the physical sensations that arise when you experience doing something that you fear, as well as staying present with the outcome of the situation. 

Every time you successfully do this, you signal to your nervous system that a certain threat is survivable and therefore, not to be feared. The more you do this process, the less threats you perceive, and thus, the bigger and bolder the moves you are able to make. Courage compounds.

For that reason, being brave one time is not where the competitive advantage lies. 

The big moves every CEO wants to make that can actually move the needle for a company — launching an edgy ad campaign that gets everyone talking and puts you on the map, vertically integrating, taking the company international into international markets — all require increasing your courage, along with your judgment and discernment, in the small moments so you are able to recognize an opportunity, capitalize on it, and effectively take advantage on the accompanying momentum produced by the move. 

But many are not willing to put in the private, unglamorous work required to be capable of making large, impressive moves publicly because of the necessary humility (and sometimes humiliation). This only contributes to courage’s value as a competitive advantage. 

Some people are more naturally courageous than others because they are able to provide psychological and emotional safety for themselves, versus relying on specific external circumstances or social belonging or approval. Their self trust is what allows them to take bigger risks.

However, what looks like someone is acting courageously is really just them possessing a different set of fears as someone else. 

That’s because decisions or actions threaten different things for different people. Courage is contextual because fear is contextual.

Which brings us to Zeus. 

Zeus’s Refusal

For the publication’s first essay, we begin with the first ruler of Olympus, a god who knew the fickleness of fear all too well, through a deep dive on the decision he offloaded that set in motion the events that led to the Trojan War.

Everyone is familiar with Odysseus’ ten-year journey home. Less well known is the catalyst for why he had to leave home at all: the throwing of a golden apple at the wedding of Thetis and Peleus.