Day 27: The Tireless Lionesses vs. The Majestic Lion

Some build quietly, while others arrive just in time for the photo. In too many workplaces, one person wears the crown while the other carries the pride.

Yesterday, we explored the contrast between silent complicity and brave solidarity — between the Bystanders and the Defenders. Today, we shift to a different kind of imbalance. This one isn’t about moral courage — it’s about visibility. And more precisely, about how power and credit are distributed inside a system.

Because in every workplace, there are those who quietly deliver — and those who effortlessly receive the applause.

🦁 The Tireless Lionesses

You won’t find them in the limelight. You’ll find them in the flow of work.

They’re the ones who stay late to finalise the budget. Who jump in when no one else answers. Who notice the missed comma in the board paper — and the team member burning out silently. They run the engine room of progress.

Their day doesn’t begin with announcements or end with recognition. It begins with a checklist and ends with something that actually moved forward. They solve problems in silence, steady the ship mid-crisis, and show up without being asked.

But when the newsletter comes out or the big event begins, they’re not the ones quoted or thanked. The credit often goes to someone who gave one piece of advice, sent a strategic email, or showed up to shake hands at the finish line.

They don’t resent praise. They just wonder where it goes — and why it never lands where the labour did.

Over time, this invisible burden becomes heavy. Not just because of the work itself — but because of what it says: that the system sees presence, not effort.

🦁 The Majestic Lion

You spot them the moment you enter the room.

They exude command. Their voice resonates. Their name appears first on the slide deck, even if they only saw it this morning. They are invited to panels, quoted in reports, and thanked in opening remarks — regardless of how much they actually contributed.

They are not always arrogant. Many are genuinely charismatic, articulate, and capable. But their power is amplified by a system that defaults to elevating certain figures, usually based on hierarchy, legacy, or sheer habit.

When things go well, they’re the face of success. When things go badly, they’re shielded by the layers below. And they rarely have to ask for recognition — it flows to them like gravity.

They don’t have to steal the credit. It’s given freely — sometimes unconsciously — because they “seem like” they should be leading. They’ve been set up to receive the crown, even when the hunt belonged to someone else.

🎭 The Systemic Layer

This isn’t a personality flaw. It’s a pattern deeply embedded in how many organisations function.

It’s in the way “leadership presence” is interpreted, in the way voices are heard differently based on role, tone, or gender, and in the way teams are structured so that labour is horizontal… but credit flows upward.

These dynamics flourish in systems where optics matter more than output, and hierarchy becomes a shortcut for value. Once the pattern becomes normal, questioning it feels like disruption, even when it’s just fairness.

This is not about taking away anyone’s spotlight. It’s about expanding it, so it reaches those who built the stage.

🔍 The Reflection

The Lioness and the Lion reflect a very real divide between doing the work and being recognised for it.

One wakes early, fixes what’s broken, and finishes what others only started. The other speaks at the end and receives the headline. One operates in motion. The other lives in narrative.

But teams thrive not when titles lead but when credit flows in the direction of effort, when visibility is earned, not assumed, and when presence is matched by participation.

So ask yourself: Whose fingerprints are the reason for this success? And how often are we applauding the voice, not the hands?

📌 Did You Know?

In the wild, lionesses are the ones who hunt, feed, and defend. They work in coordinated groups, bringing down prey, caring for cubs, and ensuring the survival of the pride. The male lion, despite his imposing appearance, contributes relatively little to the daily functioning of the group. He may defend territory and fight off rivals, but much of the actual labour — the sustaining work — is done by the lionesses.

Despite this reality, pop culture and leadership metaphors have long glorified the male lion — turning presence into a symbol of leadership, and invisibilising the daily grind of those who keep the system alive. In many organisations, the same pattern plays out: authority is equated with visibility, and visibility with value. The result? An ecosystem where the workers are backgrounded, and the figureheads are celebrated, whether or not they contributed.

📚 References

This reflection is supported by a range of research and lived experience.

• Bell Hooks reminds us in Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center how systemic structures distribute visibility along lines of gender and power.

• Harvard Business Review’s article “Who Gets Credit at Work—and Why It Matters” illuminates the psychological and social factors that influence attribution in teams.

• Sheryl Sandberg’s Lean In and Ibarra & Obodaru’s research on women and leadership speak directly to the gap between contribution and recognition.

• And Marc Bekoff’s work on animal behaviour reminds us that our leadership stories aren’t just human — they’re drawn from nature, but too often through a distorted lens.