You can lead a horse to water but...

It’s an unpleasant pattern, one I’m deeply aware of: the tendency to use my regular 1:1s with my manager as an outlet for pent-up frustration. While I strive for constructive dialogue, the reality is that the various challenges my team has faced over the past 3 years have created a reservoir of exasperation that sometimes spills over. It doesn’t happen every time but I wouldn’t exclude it happened more often than I am willing to concede…

One particularly vivid discussion centered on the acute challenge of driving a project forward when the contributors appeared distracted, pulled in too many directions, or simply disengaged. I don’t remember the specifics but, as a tech lead, this is a recurring problem. I possess all the technical vision and planning responsibility, but none of the formal “authority” of a manager. I am tasked with orchestration, but lack the levers of performance reviews or task assignment to enforce focus.

My manager, having listened patiently to my description of the sheer effort required to maintain momentum, made the following comment:

You can lead a horse to water but you can’t force it to drink.

At the time, my sole obsession was the completion of the project. This singular focus blinded me to a set of important leadership principles, which this saying kinda illuminated.

First, there is a stark division between what I can control and what I cannot. Since I am not a manager, I cannot mandate what tasks my teammates prioritize, and I cannot force them to allocate their time optimally either. These are management functions that reside elsewhere.

However, recognizing this limitation is liberating, as it directs my energy toward my spheres of influence. I can absolutely control the clarity of the project’s priority. I can ensure that every relevant stakeholder understands why this work is a top-priority initiative. Furthermore, and critically, I can control the environment for execution. I can be the first to identify and remove blockers, to clarify ambiguities, and to ensure no one is “stuck” awaiting a decision or a piece of information. My role shifts from pushing people to clearing the path for them.

The second insight is about the nature of my intervention. I can generate far greater impact by adopting a posture of “enablement” and opportunity creation rather than rescue or takeover. It’s tempting, in the face of (likely) perceived slowness, to simply get things done myself. This provides immediate, but shallow, relief. The deeper, more structural impact comes from always creating new opportunities.

This approach requires a profound acceptance of risk, though. It means accepting that an opportunity provided might be fumbled, that a delegated task might not be executed perfectly, or that a teammate might initially choose the wrong path. If I take over every difficult or risky task, I rob my colleagues of the opportunity to grow, to demonstrate ownership, and to ultimately drink the water on their own terms.

And that’s why I find this saying pretty good and relevant. As a tech lead, I am responsible for the water. I must ensure the goal is clear, the path is accessible, the resources are available, and the environment is conducive to success. I must exhaust every possible avenue to supercharge my teammates through inspiration, clear communication, and strategic support.

But I am not, and cannot be, responsible for the drinking part. If, after all my efforts, a team member consistently chooses a path of disengagement, lack of focus, or resistance to the collective goal, that crosses the boundary of my direct control. At that point, the issue moves into a different domain. It becomes an issue for their own manager to address or for the individual themselves.

Accepting this boundary helps me preserve my energy for where it can truly effect change.