Almost 90 per cent of Fortune 500 companies from the last century no longer exist. Think about that. Once industry giants—powerhouses of innovation and success-gone. They had resources, talent, and brilliant ideas. So why did they fail?
Some blame market shifts, disruption or competition. Al valid. But beneath them lies a universal truth-successful leaders fail to evolve.
Success creates the Success Trap: "Why should I change when everything is working?"At first, this might look like complacency, arrogance or inertia. But beneath it all is something deeper, something more human: fear.
Success isn't just an outcome; it becomes an identity—shaping how the world sees us and how we see ourselves. Maybe we're the problem-solver who always has the answers. Or the charismatic leader who rallies any team. This identity brings success, respect and opportunity.
And then, without realising it, we start clinging to it. We're terrified of losing it and that's where the problems begin. I learnt this the hard way. Over a decade ago, I hit rock bottom. My life looked perfect. I had built multiple successful businesses, had a fulfilling personal life, and was respected. Then, I suffered a massive personal loss. My world shattered. I felt broken. But I'll never forget one moment—when I had nothing left, I felt something unexpected: relief.
It shocked me. It made no sense. But as I searched for answers, I discovered something profound. In Buddhism, there is a concept called clinging. When we have everything, we grasp onto it so tightly. The fear of loss becomes so overwhelming that we stop enjoying what we have and focus only on protecting it. And ironically, when we lose it, we lose the fear—and suddenly, we are free.
This truth echoes across disciplines. Ancient Vedic texts describe attachment (Raga) as clinging driven by desire and fear of loss, while non-attachment (Vairagya) is the liberation from that fear, allowing for growth and evolution. Psychology describes a similar phenomenon: our minds develop protective mechanisms that prioritise safety over exploration. Carol Dweck's research on fixed mindsets shows how fear of failure makes us cling to the familiar, treating it as survival rather than an opportunity for growth.
Working with thousands of senior leaders at companies like Google. Unilever and HSBC, I've seen this fear manifest in "Fear-Based Identities of Successful Leaders":
EACH IDENTITY IS BUILT on fear: the fear of incompetence, failure, losing control, or not being enough. Once, they were the drivers of success, now they just limit growth.
Most of us are a blend of these identities and these identities don't emerge randomly. They are shaped by our childhood experiences, social expectations and workplace culture. And over time, we become fixated on them.
To evolve, we must understand and loosen the grip of fear:
WE DON'T NEED RADICAL reinvention. We can take small, low-risk experiments toward transformation—what Jeff Bezos calls Two-Way Doors: small decisions you can reverse if they don't work out.
BY REFLECTING, refining and gradually pushing further, we evolve into the leaders we aspire to be.
We must remember—our identity has carried us this far but it won't take us to the next peak. The question isn't "Why should I change?" The real question is: "What could I become if I let go of fear?"
Growth isn't about abandoning who we are—it's about evolving into the next version of ourselves. One that is driven, not by fear, but by curiosity. courage and a willingness to explore.
Because the leaders who thrive aren't the ones who cling to success. They're the ones who dare to let go and grow.
(Combining structured thinking from BCG and P&G with entrepreneurial instinct, Sharad Lal helps C-Suite leaders break through plateaus and reach their next peak—trusted by Google, Unilever, and HSBC. A serial entrepreneur, he has founded and scaled six businesses with successful sales. His How to Live podcast ranks in the top three per cent globally.)
It’s confession time. I’m a little bit obsessed with the origins of the Saudi traditional dress. Ever since I studied ‘History of Style’ at London’s KLC School Of Design some 20(!) years ago, I’ve been fascinated with the idea of how Saudi men’s style could (or would) evolve in this new exciting age of the Kingdom. As it turns out, it’s a mammoth task.
After much searching, there are very few resources documenting the history of the thobe, and the thousands of years of Arab history make it nearly impossible to establish a starting point.
There were many times I gave up searching, content to simply accept that what we wear in Saudi Arabia has its roots in early human inventions of clothing. Looking at what we wear traditionally, for both men and women, the silhouette has hardly changed for thousands of years—it is what Dr Laila Al Bassam (the first Saudi professor to study the heritage of traditional Arab costumes and textiles in Saudi Arabia) calls “basic human design.”
In her research she points to the Arab historian and sociologist Ibn Khaldun (1332 –1406, 732–808 AH), who noted that over history humans developed two types of dress: one that is wrapped (‘Izar’) and one that is cut. The Thobe, which we still wear today, is the latter.
Obviously, over time these garments have been manipulated, changed, and morphed into different shapes, fabrics, colours and sizes. They have become entirely different garments in nearly every culture. In Arabia, however, it has been less of a change, and more of an evolution.
It is possible to trace what we think of as the traditional Saudi man’s dress back almost three centuries. In the book History of Egypt Under the Government of Mohammed Ali (1823) by Félix Mengin, he describes Imam Abdullah Bin Saud Al Saud—the last ruler of the first Saudi state— wearing what is not dissimilar to what we wear today. Should you want to see it, a mannequin of his dress is on display today at Turaif Palace in Diriyah—yes, the colours have slightly changed and the fit is more tailored now with the layers having been minimized, but this is not because of design, but rather modernisation. Advances in technology has affected the functionality of our clothes—our homes are insulated, we have access to better quality fabrics, we use washing machines to clean them—to a point of evolution.
That said, I see the evolution of the Saudi Thobe as less of a physical one, and more of an emotional one. A need for identity. When you see a picture of the GCC’s modern day rulers together, the layman will see them basically wearing the same thing. But we know each country’s subtle style of Thobe, Bisht and Ghutra demonstrates the differences between them. These changes are not life necessities, they are identity necessities.
As countries like Saudi continue to evolve, so will its traditions. The recent uptake in how Saudi designers are reimagining the female Abaya designs, is already starting to find a footing in menswear. And while change in menswear has always been at a slower pace, the idea of modernising is no longer seen as an affront to identity, but rather a celebration of it.
