Power Rules But Wisdom Leads

I have always believed that wars and famine are the things of the past. But I was mistaken. 

With daily news of explosions, detonations, and killings, it is depressing to see that this world is still contaminated by those who believe that leadership is demonstrated through visibility, control, and influence. 

Leaders of this kind make decisions not necessarily for peace, but to parade their ego and pride. In the name of defence, they launch missiles which, in reality is to flaunt their illusion of supremacy. Sanctions are imposed as tools of control and not with conscience. Flags, which was long used as emblems of shared identity has lost its soul, because it is increasingly used as markers of claimed territory drawn against perceived enemies. 

These self-styled leaders hardly embody the spirit of their nations. They treat their countries as personal trophies or weapons, using them to compete for dominance, rather than to serve or safeguard their people. Under the banner of sovereignty, they send thousands to the frontlines, to kill and to be killed, often at the expense of the innocents in the process. Under the guise of service to the nation, they exercise control.

And the cost is immense not just in terms of losing hundreds of thousands of guiltless lives, but in damaging trust, shattering futures, and suffocating the planet.

This often makes me think, what makes a good leader? 

Is it the one shaped by dominance and driven by the hunger for legacy? Or is it the one who rises not from ego or conquest but through empathy and conscience?

 

The Myths of Modern Leadership

We have read the histories of world wars and the leaders whose egos and lust for dominance unleashed unimaginable destruction. Yet rather than learning from these devastating errors that wars are curse upon humanity because it is largely ignited by the self-serving ambitions of the few, we appear to have learned very little. 

In fact, some leaders of today’s world continue to mistake leadership for dominance and control. The myth of their leadership is based on their ability to start wars, impose sanctions, sway opinions, and command global attention. Such heartless leaders often forget that this kind of power, though loud and forceful, often lacks depth and conscience because they prioritise strategy over sincerity and ambition over empathy. 

Perhaps these leaders are consciously ignorant about the consequences their leadership brings. For example, the protests in the streets, the shedding of innocent blood, and the rising cries of the harmless people are largely the outcomes of bad leadership. 

They know that power, when built on fear and control, is fleeting. Look at some countries, where leaders are even hunted once their terms (political/official) end, and they are no longer protected by the illusion of their office and titles. For those who are still alive, they live in isolation behind layers of security,  imprisoned by the very fear they once imposed on others. 

And yet, they persist, not out of ignorance, but out of the refusal to wound their pride. They protect their ego at all costs, even as nations crumble beneath them. They do not lead, but still they rule. And still not with wisdom, but with the brittle armour of dominance.

At a time when the world is obsessed with Leadership of Dominance, I am always reminded of and feel blessed of our Bhutanese leadership, particularly the role of our Kings for its distinct charisma. Rooted in Buddhist philosophy and guided by a unique approach to modernisation that balances tradition with the well-being of its people at its core, it stands in stark contrast to global models. What our leaders may lack in global clout or strategic dominance, they make up with the Leadership of Conscience.

 

Leadership of Conscience

By Leadership of Conscience, I refer to a form of leadership guided not by personal ambition, force, or manipulation, but by an inner moral compass that possess a deep sense of right and wrong. It is a form of leadership that emerges from integrity, empathy, compassion, and a commitment to serve others, even when it is inconvenient, unpopular, or costly. 

A Leadership of Conscience prioritises service over status, wisdom over wealth, people over power, and peace over pride. Consequently, a leader of conscience upholds these principles and serve accordingly to achieve their outcomes. 

Since its establishment in 1907, the Monarchs of Bhutan have consistently exemplified the Leadership of Conscience. Their style of leadership has always been steered with compassion, humility, and long-term vision centred on the wellbeing of the people. 

As a Bhutanese citizen, I feel privileged to have been blessed with such leadership of conscience which is insanely rare and vital these days. Although such leaderships do not always make headlines, but it changes lives in quiet, lasting ways. Perhaps this is one reason why Bhutan continues to thrive under a monarchy system, much like a handful of other Asian nations in the likes of Japan, Thailand, and Cambodia.

Having born and grown up during the times of His Majesty the 4^th King’s reign (June 2, 1972 – December 6, 2006), I can elaboratively express how such leaderships are cherished and eternal in the memories of their citizens. 

In 2008, the Great Fourth, King Jigme Singye Wangchuck, took the unprecedented step of abdicating the golden throne to usher democracy in Bhutan. People across the nation raised their concerns that the Kingdom’s continued stability, peace, and economic progress nurtured under the monarchy system might get weakened or eroded with the arrival of democratic ideals. Yet, the Great Fourth introduced a Democratic Constitutional Monarchy as a precious gift from the throne to the people. 

I fondly recall the Great Fourth addressing students during his school visits, emphasising that the future of our nation lies in the hands of the younger generations, while consistently imparting the timeless values of service, wisdom, loyalty, humility, and sacred responsibility.

While at the same time, he portrayed leadership not as a personal privilege but as a sacred responsibility. His visions for the country, embodied in the profound idea of Gross National Happiness, environmental stewardship, and the preservation of distinct age-old culture, are still celebrated, locally and globally. Such is the legacy that leadership of conscience creates. Bhutan may be small, but through leaders like the Great Fourth, it reminds the world of a timeless truth that leadership is not what one takes, but what one gives.

 

Talking about his selflessness and visionary leadership, the Great Fourth, reminded that a nation’s strength must not rest solely on the shoulders of one leader (referring to a King). He called upon the people to take charge of their destiny, to lead, and to shape their future based on their unique potential and aspirations. He cautioned the people that while it may feel reassuring to live under a wise and benevolent monarch, the real test of a leadership lies in the risk that power may one day be inherited by someone who does not serve in the interest of the people. Therefore, not speaking as a father, the Great Fourth affirmed with conviction that the present King (erstwhile a crown prince) embodies the ideals of farsighted vision wisdom, and humility and that he will serve for the welfare of the nation even if he steps down from the golden throne. 

 

Continuing the Legacy 

It did not take long for the citizens to trust the words of the Great Fourth, for we experienced the same radiance of compassion and care when the present King ascended the golden throne. In fact, the transition of monarchical power was so seamless that it passed almost unnoticed. What we had been blessed with under our benevolent monarchs continued, perhaps even stronger, under His Majesty’s vibrant and visionary rule.

 

The Gelephu Mindfulness City (GMC) that recently became the global phenomenon, serves as a fitting example of how the legacy of Leadership of Conscience is being carried forward. This royal vision as announced during the National Day celebration on December 17, 2023, is a bold undertaking towards building Bhutan as a dynamic economic hub. Considering the rapid economic transformation of South Asia, His Majesty said that the GMC will serve as a Special Administrative Region (SAR), creating a flexible, autonomous zone to attract foreign investments aligned with national values. In doing so, it is expected to enhance opportunities at home by fostering investment, job creation, and infrastructure development. 

Recognising the GMC as a noble and long-term royal vision to build a prosperous and sustainable Bhutan, Bhutanese people from all corners of the world have responded to His Majesty’s call on National Day with wholehearted support. This overwhelming response is hardly surprising, given Bhutan’s enduring tradition of Tha-Damtshig between the leader and the people and the Kingdom’s deeply rooted culture of voluntary service. Tha-damtshig is an indigenous Bhutanese concept that embodies a profound sense of affection, kinship, duty, and reciprocal responsibility in human relationships.

Take, for instance, the construction of the international airport at the GMC, which is being funded entirely by the Bhutanese people through bond subscriptions. True to His Majesty’s words during the National Day address, His Majesty has personally led the initiative, setting an example by involving the princes, despite their tender age, in contributing their labour. This act not only demonstrates the importance of national service but also instils a deep understanding of the responsibilities that come with such a noble undertaking. His Majesty’s direct involvement reflects a leadership of conscience, one that leads not by command, but by conviction, empathy, and moral example. It is a leadership rooted in service, integrity, and a deep sense of national duty.

 

My Impressions 

I believe that the world today is not short of leaders. We have no scarcity of individuals who are capable, articulate, and well-educated. Yet, what the world deeply lacks is wisdom in those who lead.

Despite the remarkable progress in science and technology, advancements that are deemed make humanity connected and the world more liveable,  we find ourselves more fragmented than ever. Boundaries have grown sharper, and divisions based on religion or regionalism have deepened. This is not because we lack intelligence, but because power, greed, and the thirst for dominance have outpaced our moral growth.

What we often fail to understand is that leadership, like all worldly positions, is temporary. No matter how powerful, no matter how enduring it may seem in the present, the authority to rule is always bound by time. However, what truly endures is not how long one holds power, but how one uses it. The nature of one’s leadership which includes one’s character, intent, and consequence, leaves an imprint that history does not erase.

To quote an example, I have never lived during the lifetimes of Adolf Hitler, Napoleon Bonaparte, Genghis Khan, Alexander the Great, Mao Zedong, Joseph Stalin, Winston Churchill, or Benito Mussolini. And yet, I hear of them not out of fondness, but the history refuses to erase what has been written. They may not still hold the power, but their actions have shaped the world in irreversible ways. Their leaderships were temporary, but the impacts of their leadership are permanent. 

His Majesty the King with the Prime Minister behind at GMC airport construction

Her Majesty The Gyaltsuen at the GMC airport site

Their Royal Highnesses Gyalsey Jigme Namgyel and Gyalsey Ugyen Wangchuck at the GIA site

Some Beauties are Better When Untouched

Almost a decade ago, in 2016, I deliberately began stepping back from social media, especially Facebook. Although I still use it occasionally, it is no longer a visible or active part of my daily life.

 

It was not an impulsive decision, nor a dramatic rejection of the digital world. It was a quiet understanding, born from observation and experience, that not everything needs to be shared, explained, or seen. 

 

Late recently, one of my students once asked, why do I keep such a low profile online? The question was innocent, yet it lingered with me. I could have spoken about privacy, or the pressures of constant visibility, but the real answer is simpler and deeper. 

 

Some beauties are better when left untouched.

 

In our age, the instinct to document and display has become so automatic that we often forget the value of restraint. But I have come to believe that not all thoughts are meant for the timeline, not all experiences are meant for a like, and not all beauty survives exposure. The joy of a quiet morning, the grace of a passing thought, the sanctity of a personal milestone, these lose something when they are filtered, captioned, and projected outward.

 

Moreover, I have learned that what we share is not always received as we intend. The words we post, the photos we publish, the opinions we express, pass through the lens of others’ perceptions, shaped by their moods, experiences, and assumptions. What is meaningful to us may be misunderstood, misread, or even twisted. That is the nature of the public square. But some things are too delicate for that stage.

 

Keeping away from social media is, for me, an act of protecting the stillness of certain inner spaces – places where thoughts are raw, relationships are sincere, and self-worth is not measured by engagement metrics. It is not about fear or detachment, but about reverence. Like Bhutan’s unclimbed mountains, like a sacred text never fully spoken, some parts of life are most beautiful when left untouched, unposted, unargued, and unseen.

 

My Story With Social Media 

My social media journey began in 2006 with Hi5, popular during my college days. Over time, Hi5 faded away without me needing to deactivate my account, as platforms like Facebook took over. Looking back, it was fortunate because many users on Hi5 used pseudonyms, making chats feel meaningless. I still remember chatting with a woman 👩 (as her profile claimed) named Tiger Park for almost a year 👀. It was funny yet strange to connect with someone I never met or knew was real but kept taking my private time and space.

 

As Facebook grew in popularity, I joined like many others, appreciating how it helped me to connect with new people and reconnect with long-lost friends and distant relatives. Nonetheless, I realised that maintaining genuine, meaningful relationships requires presence and depth, qualities that constant online engagement often undermines. I chose to gradually step away from the platform to preserve the authenticity of my connections and my own peace of mind.

 

Later, WeChat became my primary platform for both personal and professional communication for some time until I found that the constant stream of messages, often mixing personal, professional, and group chats, began to fragment my attention and intrude on moments of quiet reflection. I realised that being always reachable is not the same as being truly connected, and so I chose to step back to reclaim focus, boundaries, and mental clarity.

 

I also explored Instagram and connected with a few close friends there. However, I deactivated my account within a month because the platform did not enrich my life in a meaningful way.  

 

Subsequently, I joined Twitter, a platform widely used by news agencies, primarily to stay updated with current affairs. However, over time, I noticed that while not all celebrities and political figures behave this way, an increasing number use the platform to create chaos and spread false rumours, driven by power, ego, and a sense of supremacy. This trend made me uncomfortable and led me to distance myself from the platform.

 

Eventually, I joined LinkedIn after hearing during my PhD that it was an excellent platform for professional networking and connecting with individuals sharing similar career interests. However, the more updates I receive, the more I noticed people publicising their microactions and engaging in self-promotion of ideas, making this platform a bizzarro Facebook, one that I have stepped away from almost a decade ago.  

 

Does this imply I am Off Social Media? 

 

Absolutely not. 

 

In fact, in today’s world, living without social media is nearly impossible. It plays a central role in how we connect, communicate, and stay informed. 

 

However, there are professional, personal, and social reasons that determines my social media usage. 

 

Professionally, reducing screen time helps me stay focus, maintains my professionalism, and at times, avoid or minimises the risk of sharing anything that could be misunderstood or breach confidentiality.

 

Personally, it supports mental clarity, better time management, and the preservation of privacy.

 

Socially, it is my way of respecting others by not overwhelming them with content that may be disturbing, divisive, unhelpful, or unnecessary.  

 

What I Post on Social Media  

Social media platforms (particularly Facebook) serve as useful tools for revisiting and storing past activities through features such as ‘Stories’ and Memory reminders. The search function also makes it easy to trace one’s personal history on the platform.

 

For this reason, whenever I reactivate my Facebook account, I primarily use it to share links to videos that I find insightful and beneficial, both for personal and professional consumption. I also upload my vintage photographs, as digital storage devices are prone to damage or loss over time.

 

However, I have customised my privacy settings so that no one else can view the links I share or the updates I post. This decision has greatly reduced my concern about distracting others with content that may not be relevant or meaningful to them. What I find insightful or valuable is often deeply personal and does not always translate in the same way to others. In fact, I believe that some thoughts, memories, and moments are meant to remain personal and cherished in private rather than shared publicly. 

 

Just because I am connected, for example as Facebook friends, does not necessarily mean every aspect of my life needs to be displayed or broadcast with larger social circle. Because social media has cultivated a culture of visibility, many of us mostly feel obliged to share every experience. But I have come to value quiet reflection over constant sharing publicly. For me, meaningful moments do not need validation through likes or comments. They hold their worth in silence too. 

  

What I do not Post on Social Media

 

I am not writing to present myself as a person with exceptional social media discipline, but I simply share my personal shift in awareness. Over time I have become increasingly mindful about what and why I choose not to share online (except my blog where I have my control). While social media offer opportunities to connect, inform, and express, as stated earlier, I have come to believe that not everything needs to be made visible or public. At times, it is the small act of keeping some things private that gives its meaning and value. 

 

That is why, things associated with my personal milestones, family matters, or emotional experiences are never posted on social media. These moments belong to an inner circle of people with whom I share genuine connection and for that I do not need any audience. Likewise, the feelings that unfolds today due to the reaction of my emotion change the other day. 

I also refrain from posting opinions that may spark unnecessary conflict or misunderstanding. In this era of social media, there is nothing that can provoke our reaction. But not everything needs our opinions or response. 

 

Moreover, I avoid posting content for the sake of attention or affirmation. I do not believe every meal, sunset, or thought needs to be recorded or validated by likes. There is beauty in living quietly, in allowing some experiences to remain known only to oneself.

 

Hence, what I do not post is just as intentional as what I do. In an age of flooded with oversharing of public or private materials, I find peace in stepping back, in choosing silence, thoughtfulness, and authenticity.