Chess versus Checkers
Management and Leadership have been compared to Chess versus Checkers
Management and leadership are often spoken about as though they are interchangeable. They sit side by side in job titles, capability frameworks and development programs. We ask people to lead teams, manage performance, show leadership and manage change as if they are variations of the same skill.
But they are not the same game.
Marcus Buckingham’s 2005 Harvard Business Review article What Great Managers Do offers a useful distinction: great managers succeed by noticing what is unique about each person and finding ways to turn those differences into performance. He contrasts this with leadership, which is more concerned with finding what people have in common and rallying them toward a shared future. Put simply, great management is like chess. Leadership is more like checkers.
That analogy has been sitting with me for the last few weeks.
In checkers, every piece moves in the same way. The power of the game is in direction, momentum and coordination. You move the pieces forward. You create a path. You keep the board simple enough that everyone can see the aim. That is often what leadership requires. Leaders need to cut through complexity and create shared meaning. They need to help people understand where we are going, why it matters and what we are collectively trying to achieve. Leadership is not about ignoring individual differences, but it does require finding the common thread: be it purpose, values, ambition, fear, hope, identity or belonging.
In that sense, leadership is the work of alignment.
A leader says, “This is the future we are moving towards.”
A leader creates belief.
A leader gives people a reason to keep moving, especially when the path is uncertain.
Management, however, is different. Management, as described by Buckingham, is like chess because not every piece moves the same way. A knight is not a bishop. A rook is not a queen. Each has different strengths, limitations and possibilities. You cannot manage well if you assume everyone is motivated by the same things, learns in the same way, communicates in the same style or performs best under the same conditions.
And yet, that is exactly what many leaders still do.
We design standard role descriptions, standard performance conversations, standard development plans and standard engagement approaches. We tell people to improve their weaknesses, adapt to the system and become more “well-rounded”. We often manage as if consistency is the same as fairness.
But as history shows us, great managers know better. Fairness does not mean treating everyone identically but rather, fairness means giving each person the conditions they need to contribute at their best.
One team member may thrive with autonomy. Another may need regular check-ins. One may be energised by public recognition. Another may find it uncomfortable and prefer quiet, specific feedback. One person may learn best by watching an expert first. Another may need to jump in, make mistakes and learn through doing.
The average manager tries to make the person fit the role. The great manager adjusts the role, the environment or the support so the person’s strengths can be released and that is a very different mindset.
It also challenges one of the most persistent myths in management: that the job of a manager is to fix people. Of course, managers need to address performance gaps. They need to set expectations, give feedback and support development. But the best managers do not spend most of their energy trying to turn people into someone they are not.
They ask better questions.
What does this person naturally do well?
What gives them energy?
What drains them?
What conditions bring out their best work?
What sort of recognition actually means something to them?
How do they learn?
Where do they need support, structure or partnership?
These questions sound simple, but they are rarely asked with enough discipline. Too often, managers rely on assumptions or simply can’t be bothered. The quiet person is not ambitious. The detail-focused person is not strategic. The relationship builder is not commercially minded. The fast mover is careless. The cautious person is resistant to change. Sometimes these assumptions are wrong. More often, they are incomplete.
A chess-playing manager looks closer. They notice patterns. They observe where people light up, where they struggle, where they add disproportionate value and where they are being asked to move in ways that do not suit their strengths.
This does not mean indulging every preference. A workplace is not built around individual comfort. But it does mean understanding that performance is personal before it becomes collective. Teams do not perform because everyone is the same. They perform because difference is understood, valued and coordinated.
That is where the chess analogy becomes powerful. A chess player is not trying to make every piece equal. They are trying to use every piece well.
This has real implications for managers. It means performance conversations should focus less on generic improvement and more on contribution. It means development plans should not only ask, “What gap do you need to close?” but also, “What strength could you use more deliberately?” It means team design should consider not just workload and availability, but temperament, motivation, learning style and working rhythm.
It also means managers need to stop confusing sameness with simplicity.
Yes, it is easier to manage everyone the same way. It is easier to have one communication style, one recognition approach, one development process and one definition of what “good” looks like. But easier does not mean better. In fact, it often creates disengagement because people feel unseen.
The best managers make people feel known, not flattered and not over-praised. Known.
They see the person behind the role. They understand that one employee’s “difficult behaviour” may be an overused strength. They recognise that a weakness may not need fixing so much as managing around. They know that a high performer may not want the same reward, career path or public attention as another high performer. This is not soft management. It is precise management.
Leadership still matters. Without leadership, the team may have individual brilliance but no shared direction. Without management, the organisation may have an inspiring vision but fail to unlock the talent sitting right in front of it. So perhaps the real lesson is this: leaders need to know when to play checkers, and managers need to know when to play chess.
When people need direction, meaning and belief, simplify the board. Create the story. Show the path forward. When people need to perform, grow and contribute, study the pieces. Understand how each person moves. Then build the conditions that allow them to make their strongest contribution.
Because great teams are not built by pretending everyone is the same, they are built by leaders who unite people around a common purpose, and managers who are skilful enough to make difference work.