I still remember when I realised one of my team members was simply better at the work than I’d ever been. Actually, several of them were and it was a hard realisation.
My background is in SEO and at the time, I was managing a team of SEOs. I remember them talking in the office about ways to fix some technical problems on a client’s website. Usually, I’d be able to contribute or they’d ask me for help but this time, I was struggling to keep up with the ideas that they had.
My first thought wasn’t pride. I panicked.
If they’re better at this than I am, what am I even doing here? What value am I actually adding? Am I just… in the way? Am I the old boss who they actually don’t need anymore?
Here’s the really uncomfortable bit for me to admit: I started looking for problems in their work that weren’t there. I added unnecessary comments to the deck to prove I still knew things. I over-explained my feedback to demonstrate I understood the strategy. I was, without realising it, trying to assert that I was still the smartest person in the room.
I wasn’t managing them. I was managing my own insecurity.
If you’ve ever felt this, you’re not alone. I’ve talked to dozens of managers who’ve experienced this same gut punch when they realise someone on their team is objectively more skilled at technical work than they ever were.
Here’s what I’ve learned after years of managing people who were better at the work than I was: This feeling is both completely normal and completely backwards. Because being the best at the work and being the best at managing the work are two entirely different jobs. And confusing them is one of the fastest ways to become a bad manager.
Why this feels like a threat (when it’s actually the whole point)
Let’s start with why this triggers something so primal as panic, because understanding it helps you move past it.
You built your identity on being good at the work
That’s how you got promoted in the first place, right? For years, your value was directly tied to your core skills, your technical ability, your output. You were the person who could solve the difficult problems, who delivered exceptional work, who clients asked for by name.
Now someone on your team does it better than you ever did and it feels like your entire foundation is crumbling. If you’re not the best at the work anymore, what are you?
Management ability is invisible compared to core skills
When someone writes brilliant code, designs a stunning interface, or delivers a perfect client presentation, everyone can see it. The work speaks for itself. It’s tangible. It gets praised in meetings. It wins pitches.
Good management, on the other hand, often means things don’t go wrong. It’s preventing problems before they happen. It’s having the conversation that stops someone from burning out. It’s making the decision that lets three people do better work instead of doing the work yourself.
Nobody sees that in the same way. You can’t point at it and say “look what I did.” There’s no tangible thing that you can hold up to show people.
But here’s the thing: If everyone on your team was less skilled than you, you’d be failing at your actual job.
Your job as a manager isn’t to be the best individual contributor. It’s to build a team that’s collectively better than any individual (including you) could be alone.
The manager who needs to be the most skilled person in the room isn’t building a team. They’re building a group of people who do what they say. That’s not the same thing.
The job shift you didn’t realise you signed up for
Right, let’s talk about what your actual job is now. Because I think most managers in this position are still trying to do their old job, just with a fancier title.
To be fair, quite often you do still have to deliver on elements of your old job, especially when you become a manager for the first time. Your old responsibilities usually don’t disappear overnight.
But with that said, you need to ensure that you understand your new job and the shift that you need to make if you’re to be successful at it.
You’re not there to do the work better than them
You’re there to create the conditions and environment where they can do their best work. That’s a completely different skill to doing the work yourself.
This means that you are:
- Removing obstacles.
- Providing context they don’t have.
- Protecting their time from unnecessary meetings.
- Making decisions that let them execute without constantly checking back.
- Spotting when they’re heading in a direction that won’t land with the client, even if the work itself is brilliant.
None of that requires you to be more skilled at the craft than they are. It requires you to be an effective manager.
Your value is in what you can see that they can’t
You see across all of the projects in your team. You know what happened with this client six months ago that explains why they’re being difficult now. You can see that two people are working on similar problems and should talk to each other. You spot when someone’s workload is unsustainable before it shows up in their output.
You see patterns across the team. You notice when someone who’s normally proactive has gone quiet. You recognise when a project is at risk before anyone raises a flag. You know which battles are worth fighting with senior leadership and which aren’t.
This is information that your team doesn’t have and can’t have, because they’re focused on their work. You’re focused on the system around the work.
You translate, shield and create space
You translate business needs into a clear direction. When a senior leader says “we need to be more innovative,” you turn that into something your team can actually act on.
You shield your team from unnecessary noise. The political rubbish, the random requests, the last-minute panic from people who aren’t actually important. You filter what reaches them so they can focus on work that matters.
You create psychological space. You make it safe to admit when something isn’t working. You give people room to try things that might fail. You take the blame when things go wrong and give them credit when things go right.
I remember a project where a strategist on my team did genuinely brilliant work. The insight was something I’d never have spotted. But they could only do that work because I’d pushed back on the client’s timeline to give them proper time to think. I’d connected them with someone from another team who had relevant context. I’d made it clear they should focus on quality over speed.
The work was theirs. Absolutely. But they couldn’t have done it without the conditions I created. That was me being an effective manager.
Where most managers sabotage themselves in this situation
Let’s talk about the specific ways managers tend to get this wrong, because I’ve done all of these and I see them constantly.
Undermining yourself in subtle ways
Self-deprecating comments such as: “You’re so much better at this than I ever was.” “I don’t know why you’re even asking me.” “You should probably ignore my feedback, you know better.”
You think you’re being humble. You’re actually undermining your own authority and making them uncomfortable. They need you to be confident in your role as their manager, not constantly apologising for not being as skilled at the craft.
Or the opposite: over-explaining every decision to prove you still understand the work. “So the reason I think we should prioritise this is…” followed by a ten-minute explanation of technical details they already know, because you’re desperate to demonstrate you’re not completely out of your depth.
Either micromanaging or completely hands-off
Micromanaging because you’re trying to prove you still understand the work. You ask detailed questions about their process. You want to review everything. You give feedback on tiny details that don’t matter. Not because the work needs it, but because you need to feel involved.
Or you go completely hands-off because you’re afraid any input will expose that they’re better than you. “You know what you’re doing, just come to me if you need anything.” Then you barely check in, you don’t give feedback, you’re not actually managing them at all.
Both of these are ways of managing your own insecurity rather than managing the person.
Not giving feedback because “who am I to critique their work?
I did this for months with a senior team member before I realised how much I was failing them.
They were exceptional at client strategy. Better than I’d ever been. So I convinced myself they didn’t need my feedback. Who was I to tell them how to do work I couldn’t do as well?
Except they were spending huge amounts of time on analysis that looked impressive but wasn’t actually what the client needed. They didn’t know this because I hadn’t told them. I had context they didn’t have about the client. I knew the client’s real priorities, their budget constraints, what had failed in the past – before this person had even joined the business.
My imposter syndrome was robbing them of management they actually needed. Not feedback on how to do the technical work, but feedback on whether they were focused on the right things in the first place.
How to actually manage someone more skilled than you
Right, let’s get practical. Here’s what to actually do instead.
Name the dynamic directly (once)
In a one-to-one, say something like: “I want you to know that you’re objectively more skilled at [strategy/design/development] than I ever was, and that’s exactly what we need. My job isn’t to be better at the work than you. It’s to make sure you have what you need to do your best work.”
Then never bring it up again. You’ve acknowledged reality, you’ve clarified your role, now move on. They don’t need reminding of it over and over.
Focus your feedback on what they can’t see
Your feedback should be about client context, business priorities, how their work connects with others’ and strategic direction. Not how to do the technical work better.
For example:
Don’t say: “I think this design could be stronger if…”
Do say: “The client’s actually most concerned about speed to market right now, so I’d focus the design exploration on options that are faster to build.”
Don’t say: “Have you considered this technical approach?”
Do say: “Just so you know, we tried something similar with this client last year and they really struggled with complexity. Might be worth keeping it simpler.”
This is feedback only you can give. And it’s genuinely valuable.
Ask about obstacles, not execution
“What’s in your way?” not “How are you approaching this problem?”
“What do you need from me?” not “Walk me through your thinking.”
“Is there anything blocking you?” not “Can you explain your process?”
The first version of each question shows you trust their method and you’re focused on enabling their work. The second version sounds like you’re checking up on them.
Make decisions confidently
Even when they know more about the technical work, you still need to make calls about priorities, resources, timing, trade-offs.
“We’re going to prioritise project A over project B this week.”
“I need you to spend less time on perfecting this and move onto the next thing.”
“I’m going to push back on this deadline with the client.”
Don’t apologise for these decisions. Don’t over-explain them. Make them clearly and move on. This is your job now.
Celebrate their expertise publicly
When they do exceptional work, make sure others know. In team meetings, in emails to clients, in conversations with senior leadership.
“The strategy work on this project was genuinely brilliant. [Name] spotted something I’d never have seen.”
You might worry this diminishes you. It doesn’t. It shows you’re secure enough to celebrate excellence, which is exactly what good managers do.
And it raises the bar for others.
Develop your management craft with the same intensity you used to develop your technical craft
This often doesn’t happen which is why The New Leader Academy exists.
You’re still a craftsperson. You’ve just changed disciplines.
Get better at giving feedback. At having difficult conversations. At spotting problems early. At making decisions. At developing people. At understanding what motivates different team members.
Treat management as a skill to be developed, not just a title you hold.
Remember: They need you to be their manager, not their peer
Don’t try to be their friend or fellow expert. Be the manager they actually need.
They need someone who gives them clear direction. Who protects their time. Who gives them honest feedback. Who makes decisions. Who removes obstacles. Who develops their career.
None of that requires you to be better at technical work than they are.
You’re still a craftsperson. You’ve just changed disciplines. What are you going to get better at now?
The managers who struggle most with this are the ones who keep trying to prove they’re still good at their old job. The managers who thrive are the ones who get obsessed with being excellent at their new one.
