Tao Te Ching – Chapter Seventeen
Written by Lao-tzu – From a translation by S. Mitchell
When the Master governs, the people
are hardly aware that he exists.
Next best is a leader who is loved.
Next, one who is feared.
The worst is one who is despised.
If you don't trust the people,
you make them untrustworthy.
The Master doesn’t talk, he acts.
When his work is done,
the people say, “Amazing:
we did it, all by ourselves!”
How I Read This Chapter
True leadershp is quiet.
It doesn’t draw attention to itself.
It doesn’t command, it supports.
It acts with trust,
not control.
And when the work is done,
no one claps for the leader.
They simply feel empowered,
as if they did it themselves.
Because in truth, they did.
The Master doesn’t steal the light,
he shines it back on others.
What This Means To Me
Before recovery, I had no idea what real leadership looked like. I thought power meant being in charge—being admired, obeyed, or feared. I thought the loudest voice in the room had the most authority. But that kind of control is brittle. It’s rooted in ego and insecurity. And in addiction, my ego was everything.
But recovery has introduced me to another kind of leadership—one that doesn’t announce itself, but quietly serves. I’ve seen it in the old-timers who sit at the back of the room, listening more than they speak. I’ve felt it in the sponsor who gently guides, never preaches. I’ve experienced it in people who show up day after day, helping others stay sober without needing recognition.
This chapter reminds me that the strongest presence is often the most invisible. The Master’s way is not to dominate, but to empower. He doesn’t draw attention to his work—he lets others grow into their own strength. And when the job is done, people don’t thank the Master—they say, “We did it!” Because real leadership leaves people stronger, not more dependent.
This speaks deeply to Step Twelve. Carrying the message doesn’t mean forcing wisdom or claiming credit. It means walking alongside someone until they see their own path. It’s about offering hope, not instructions. The best sponsorship I’ve received—and hopefully given—has always been rooted in trust. And trust can’t be faked. It grows in silence, in presence, in consistent action.
“If you don’t trust the people, you make them untrustworthy.” That line hits home. In addiction, I didn’t trust anyone—especially myself. And because of that, I lived in suspicion, defensiveness, and isolation. But in recovery, I’ve learned that trust is both a gift and a responsibility. When someone trusts me with their story, their struggle, or their sobriety, I rise to meet it. When I’m trusted, I learn to trust myself again.
This chapter also reminds me that I don’t need to prove I’m useful to be of use. I don’t need to be seen to have value. I just need to show up, act with integrity, and let go of the outcome. When I’m not seeking credit, I become more effective. When I act from humility, others find their own power.
Today, I try to lead without leading. To support without fixing. To trust others without needing to control them. And most importantly, to stay grounded in the truth that recovery is not about me being the hero—it’s about all of us finding our own strength together.
