Toby Sinclair

Deliberate Practice for Leaders: Why Experience Doesn't Make You Better

30 Aug 2026 · 18 min read

Leadership is a performance skill. Most of us treat it like a reading list.

Most leaders I work with have been doing the job for years. They've read the books. They've sat through the programmes. They're still having the same conversations they were having five years ago, with the same results.

That's not a character flaw. It's what happens when you confuse experience with practice.

Deliberate practice is the best-studied method we have for getting better at a skill. It is what turns decent violinists into concert soloists, competent surgeons into specialists, and club players into grandmasters. Anders Ericsson spent decades showing that expert performance is not a gift. It is a way of practising.

Leadership is one of the last fields still pretending this doesn't apply.

This guide is about why deliberate practice matters more for leadership than almost any other professional skill, why most leadership development fails to produce it, and how to actually practise the conversations that make someone a leader.

I founded Real Talk Studio, an AI conversation simulation platform, so I have an obvious interest in practice. I'll flag where that colours things. The research is not mine, and the problem existed long before I built a product for it.

What is deliberate practice?

Practice, in ordinary language, means repeating something so you'll be better when it counts. We rehearse a presentation. We run a fire drill. We do the easy version before the real one.

A lot of what we call practice is just doing the thing again. You sit in the same meetings, give the same kind of feedback, run the same one-to-ones. You get more comfortable. You do not necessarily get better.

Deliberate practice means working on a specific component of a skill, at the edge of your ability, with feedback you can act on. You know what you are trying to improve. You have a way to tell whether the attempt was better than the last one. You adjust, and you go again.

Geoff Colvin, in Talent Is Overrated, put the ingredients this way: the activity is designed to improve performance, it can be repeated a lot, feedback is continuously available, it is highly demanding mentally, and it is not much fun.

That last point is not a joke. Ericsson asked elite violinists to rate practice activities by how enjoyable they were and how much they improved performance. The useful ones were the least enjoyable. The moment practice feels comfortable, it has stopped being deliberate.

Regular practice maintains a skill. Deliberate practice is the only reliable way to:

  1. Reach a high level of performance
  2. Break through a plateau
  3. Improve much faster than "just doing the job"

If you are content with how you lead, you do not need this. Plenty of leadership is maintenance: running a decent meeting, keeping a team informed, not making things worse. Deliberate practice is for the parts of the job you keep mishandling, and for the level of skill that experience alone will never produce.

Doing the job is not practice.

"Learning isn't a way of reaching one's potential but rather a way of developing it." — Anders Ericsson, Peak

Why experience doesn't make better leaders

The most uncomfortable finding in the expertise research is also the most useful one for anyone who develops leaders.

In several fields Ericsson studied, people with many years of experience were no better than novices, and sometimes worse. Medicine is the famous case. Diagnostic accuracy does not reliably climb with years in the job. What climbs is confidence. Clinicians who keep getting better are the ones who keep practising deliberately: reviewing cases, seeking disconfirming feedback, working on the errors they actually make.

Leadership has the same shape, and a worse feedback problem.

A manager can spend a decade in the role and still freeze when they have to tell a former peer they are not getting the promotion. They can quote Radical Candor in a workshop and then pad the actual sentence with so much warmth that the other person leaves unsure anything was said. I have watched this happen hundreds of times in practice transcripts. Nobody fails on the theory.

Pfeffer and Sutton called this the knowing-doing gap. Organisations are full of people who know what they should do and do not do it. Leadership development, as an industry, has spent thirty years pouring knowledge into that gap and wondering why behaviour doesn't change.

The gap is not a knowledge gap. It is a practice gap.

Experience feels like it should close it. You have the conversations, you get the scars, you surely get better. Sometimes you do, early on. Then most people reach what Ericsson called the OK plateau: a level of performance that is acceptable, automatic, and no longer improving. The job gets easier because you have stopped stretching. Ten years of leading, at that point, is often one year of leading, repeated ten times.

The OK plateau

Experience flattens. Practice keeps rising.

Early gains look the same. The difference is what happens after the job starts to feel easy.

This is why the senior person in the room is not always the most skilled at the conversation. They have had more of them. They have not practised them.

I wrote about a related failure mode in constraints-led leadership development: programmes that remove pressure, variability, and consequence, then act surprised when the skill doesn't transfer to Monday morning. Classroom leadership is a different sport from leadership under load.

If we want better leaders, we have to stop treating time in the chair as a training method. Time in the chair is the match. Training is what you do before it.

Why leadership is uniquely hard to practise

Deliberate practice is easiest in domains with clear metrics, immediate feedback, and a safe way to fail. Chess has a rating. The violin has a teacher in the room. A sprinter has a clock.

Leadership has almost none of that.

The unit of leadership skill is the conversation, and conversations refuse to be practised the way a backhand is practised. You cannot give someone real redundancy news twice. You cannot tell a high performer they are not ready for promotion as a drill. The situations that would teach you the most are the ones you only get a handful of times a year, at full stakes, with no rehearsal.

That is the core problem, and it explains a lot of what is wrong with leadership development:

  • Feedback is late and noisy. You find out six months later, in a resignation or an engagement score, that the conversation went badly. By then you cannot isolate what you did.
  • People will not tell you the truth. Power distorts feedback. Your team will not say "you padded that so heavily I didn't know I was being managed." They will nod, leave, and tell someone else.
  • The classroom removes the thing that makes the skill hard. Pressure, status, history with the other person, the knowledge that this will change a relationship. Take those out and you are practising a different skill.
  • Colleagues are too kind. Peer role play, when it happens at all, is usually two people being polite. Real counterparts are not polite. They interrupt, they get upset, they change the subject. Practising against kindness rehearses a world that does not exist.
  • The skills that matter most are the ones people avoid. Feedback, conflict, saying no, admitting uncertainty. These are exactly the conversations new managers dread, which means they get the fewest reps on the skills they need most.

This is why "I'll get better at it as I go" is such a bad bet in leadership. The reps are rare, expensive, and poorly instrumented. If your only practice is the live conversation, you will spend a career taking your first attempt in public.

Sport figured this out a century ago. Nobody learns a serve in a match. They learn it on a court, against a ball machine or a partner, then they take it into the match. Leadership still sends people into the match and calls it development.

Why leaders don't get reps

The match is not training

The match

Live conversation
  • Full stakes, one attempt
  • Feedback months later, if at all
  • You cannot rewind redundancy

Training

Deliberate practice
  • Same skill, many attempts
  • Feedback on this attempt
  • Fail before it costs a relationship
Sport figured this out a century ago. Leadership still sends people into the match and calls it development.

A coach, a candid peer, or a well-built simulation can give you the missing reps. I build the third of those at Real Talk Studio, because the first two do not scale: good coaches are scarce, and most colleagues will not push you hard enough. Simulation is not the only way to practise. It is the first way that makes volume of practice cheap enough to become a habit.

The elements of deliberate practice for leaders

Ericsson's claim in Peak is blunt: across fields, the most effective way to improve is a single set of principles. Leadership does not get a special exemption. It gets a harder implementation.

Here is how those principles translate.

It is structured and methodical

You cannot "practise leadership." That is like practising sport. You have to pick a component.

Break the job into the conversations that actually move it. Giving critical feedback. Coaching instead of rescuing. Holding a deadline. Disagreeing with a senior person. Running a meeting after bad news. These ten manager scenarios are a decent starting list if you do not want to invent your own.

Then pick one. Not five. One.

Write down what "better" would look like in that conversation. Not a vibe. A behaviour. "I say the sentence the meeting exists for in the first two minutes." "I ask two questions before I offer advice." "I do not apologise for the decision."

That becomes the practice target. Everything else in the session is a distraction.

It is challenging and uncomfortable

If you are not slightly failing, you are not in the learning zone. Noel Tichy described three zones: comfort, learning, and panic. Comfort rehearses what you already do. Panic floods you. Progress lives in the thin band where the task is just out of reach.

Most leadership "practice" is comfort. A workshop case study. A discussion of a model. Role play with a colleague who likes you. None of that sits on the edge of ability.

The edge, for a leader, is usually emotional, not intellectual. You already know what to say. The difficulty is saying it while the other person is upset, or silent, or more senior than you. Practice that does not include that pressure will not transfer.

Daniel Coyle calls this the sweet spot: right on the edge of your ability, where you learn fastest. The key word, borrowed from Einstein, is barely.

Where practice actually works

Comfort. Learning. Panic.

Comfort

You already canRepeating this maintains the skill. It does not raise it.

Learning

Just out of reachSlightly failing, with feedback. This is the only zone that counts.

Panic

Too hard to learnFlooded. No signal. Drop the difficulty until you can adjust.
Most leadership “practice” is comfort: a model, a discussion, a kind colleague.

It requires constant feedback

Practising without knowing whether you got better is just activity. Leadership is full of activity.

The metrics that matter are behavioural, not vanity. "I ran six one-to-ones this week" is a vanity metric. "In four of six, I asked a question before offering a view" is a practice metric. The Coaching Habit is useful here not because the questions are magic, but because they give you something countable to aim at.

You also need an outside view. You are a biased observer of your own conversations. You remember your intention. The other person remembers what you said. Those are not the same thing.

A coach can provide that view. So can a recording, a transcript, or a counterpart designed to react rather than to please you. What does not provide it is going back to your desk and deciding it "went fine."

It works best with a coach, a teacher, or a counterpart who will not collude

Ericsson was clear that a teacher accelerates everything: they know the order to learn things, they can see errors you cannot, they design the next drill. The world's best golfers still have coaches. Intellectual fields are not above this. They are worse at admitting it.

Most leaders do not have a coach in the room for the conversations that matter. That is not an argument against coaching. It is an argument for not waiting until you hire one.

In the meantime you need someone or something that will not collude with you. A peer briefed to make it difficult. A manager who will watch you and be specific. An actor. A simulation that pushes back, gets emotional, and will end the conversation if you break trust.

I have written an honest take on what AI roleplay is good at and where it fails. The short version: it is excellent at volume, privacy, and consistent difficulty. It is not your actual colleague with your actual history. For the highest-stakes conversation of someone's career I would still add a human coach. For building the underlying skill, volume wins, and it is not close.

It requires intrinsic motivation, rest, and focus

Deliberate practice is mentally expensive. Across fields, elite performers rarely sustain more than a few hours of it a day, often in sessions of 60 to 90 minutes. More than that and quality collapses. Leadership is no different, except that the diary is already full of performance, which people mistake for practice.

You cannot deliberate-practice all day. You can do one hard conversation attempt, recover, and do another. You cannot do eight, and you should not try.

Motivation has to be mostly intrinsic. Extrinsic reasons, a promotion, a course certificate, a line in a development plan, are not enough to keep you in the uncomfortable zone. You have to want the skill itself: to be someone who can say the hard sentence without flinching.

The leadership skills worth practising

Not every part of the job deserves this treatment. Deliberate practice is scarce, so spend it where the gap between knowing and doing is widest, and where the cost of the first live attempt is highest.

In the transcripts I see, that list is almost always conversations.

Critical feedback. The sentence exists. People circle it for weeks. Then they deliver a version so softened that nothing changes. Practise the opening, then the silence after it, then the moment they get defensive. Radical Candor is the map. The map is not the walk.

Coaching instead of rescuing. Most managers I work with can recite a coaching question and still jump in with the answer 20 seconds later. The skill is staying in the question while the other person sits in the gap. That is a tolerance you build by repeating it, not by reading Dare to Lead.

Conflict and disagreement. Avoidance is the default. Practise naming the disagreement early, without a speech. Practise staying when the temperature rises. I collected worked scenarios for this because "be better at conflict" is not a drill.

The former-peer conversation. New managers fail this one constantly. Last week you were complaining about leadership together. This week you are leadership. The skill is the first sentence that acknowledges the change without pretending it isn't awkward.

Saying no, including upward. Leaders who cannot disappoint people become bottlenecks. Practise the no without a 12-minute justification. Practise it with someone more senior than you.

Bad news to a group. Redundancy, a killed project, a missed target. The room will not take turns. Practise stating the news, then the implication, then what happens next, without filling every silence.

Admitting uncertainty. New leaders bluff. Experienced ones sometimes bluff more, because they have a reputation to protect. "I don't know yet, here's when you'll hear from me" is a skill. It feels like weakness until you have said it ten times.

If you run a programme rather than your own development, these are the drills. Not another model. The conversations. A coaching leadership style is a set of behaviours you can rehearse. It is not a personality type you wait to grow into.

How to practise leadership skills this week

A method is only as good as the next session. Here is a loop you can run without a budget, a course, or a new identity.

This week

A six-step practice loop

  1. 01Pick the conversation
  2. 02Write the sentence
  3. 03Attempt against resistance
  4. 04Get evidence
  5. 05Change one thing
  6. 06Take it live
Frequency beats intensity. Two short sessions beat one heroic afternoon.

1. Pick one conversation you are already avoiding. Not a type. A specific one, with a name and a date. If you cannot name it, you are still in theory.

2. Write the sentence the conversation exists to deliver. One sentence. If you need a paragraph, you do not know what you are doing yet. Say it out loud, alone, until it stops feeling impossible. This is the cheapest form of practice and most people skip it.

3. Attempt it against resistance. A colleague briefed not to be kind. A coach. Or a simulation, if you want reps without an audience. The point is a counterpart who will not collude. If you want to feel what a first attempt is like before the real one, try a scenario at Real Talk Studio. That is what it is for.

4. Get evidence. What did you actually say? Where did you pad, rush, or abandon the sentence? A transcript beats a feeling.

5. Change one thing. Go again. Not five things. One. The opening. The silence. The close. Then stop for the day. Spacing beats cramming: two sessions a week for a month will do more than a heroic afternoon.

6. Take it into the live conversation. Practice is not a substitute for the real thing. It is how you stop using the real thing as your first attempt.

If you want a longer comparison of courses, workshops, peer practice and simulation, I wrote that for Crucial Conversations training. The conclusion is the same here. Frequency beats intensity. The design question is "how does this person get their tenth rep?", not "how good was day one?"

The 10,000-hour myth

Malcolm Gladwell made Ericsson famous, and slightly distorted him. Outliers popularised the idea that 10,000 hours of practice produces mastery. It is a catchy number. It is also the wrong lesson.

Ericsson disputed the way it was taken up. The research was never "time predicts skill." It was that the way experts practise predicts skill. You can spend 10,000 hours typing and not get faster, because you are not practising typing. You are writing emails. Most leaders spend 10,000 hours in meetings and wonder why they are still bad at the hard ones.

The useful takeaway is simpler, and less comforting: getting good takes a lot of work, there is no magic number, and hours of performance do not count as hours of practice.

Hours of performance do not count as hours of practice.

Innate talent is a starting point, not a ceiling. Ericsson looked for genuine prodigies, people born with a finished gift, and did not find a proven example. What he found were people who practised in a particular way, often from a young age, often with excellent teachers, often with advantages they did not advertise.

That should be good news for anyone who was not a "natural leader" at 25. It is also a warning. If you are waiting to feel ready, you will wait through a whole career. Readiness is what practice produces.

What deliberate practice cannot do

It is not a panacea, and treating it like one will waste a lot of effort.

It is necessary, not sufficient. At the high end of any field, everyone is practising hard. Luck, timing, the team you inherit, and the organisation you are in still matter. Deliberate practice will not make a toxic system into a coaching culture. It will make you more skilful inside it, which is still worth doing.

Leadership outcomes are confounded. You can run a perfect conversation and still lose the person. You can mishandle one and get lucky. Do not use business results as your only practice metric. Use behaviours you can observe in the attempt itself.

You can practise the wrong thing. Grit in the wrong direction is just sunk cost. If the skill is no longer what the job needs, stop. Knowing when to pivot is a leadership skill too.

It can crowd out the rest of life. Elite performers often organise sleep, food, and recovery around practice. That is a choice with a cost. Most leaders need a sustainable version: a few focused sessions a week, not a monastery.

Skills decay. Ericsson noted that the changes caused by training require upkeep. Stop practising and the edge goes. A leader who was excellent at feedback three jobs ago, and has not rehearsed it since, should not trust the old identity.

It will not make the live conversation easy. Practice makes it possible. The real one will still have history, power, and consequence that no drill fully captures. That is not a reason to skip the drill. It is a reason not to confuse the drill with the match.

Frequently asked questions

What is deliberate practice in leadership?

Rehearsing a specific leadership skill, usually a conversation, with a clear target, realistic difficulty, and feedback you can act on. It is not the same as doing the job. Most time at work is performance, not practice.

Why is deliberate practice important for developing leadership skills?

Because the skills live in conversations under pressure, and neither reading nor years in the role will change what you do in those moments once you have reached an acceptable level. Deliberate practice is how you break the plateau.

How is it different from experience?

Experience repeats what you already know. Deliberate practice is designed to improve a weak component, at the edge of your ability, with feedback. Ten years without that design is often one year, repeated.

How can I practise if I do not have a coach?

You still need an outside view. Record yourself. Brief a colleague not to make it easy. Use a simulation that pushes back. Self-review without a counterpart usually rehearses your existing habits. A coach is faster. It is not the only door.

Does the 10,000-hour rule apply to leadership?

No. Hours in the job do not predict skill. Quality of practice does. You can spend 10,000 hours in meetings and still freeze when it counts.

Isn't this just role play?

Role play is a format. Deliberate practice is a design: a target, a stretch, feedback, repetition. Most role play in workshops has none of those. It is a one-off, with a polite partner, after a slide deck. That is theatre. It is not training.

Summary

  • Deliberate practice means working on a specific part of a skill, at the edge of your ability, with feedback. Doing the job is not the same thing.
  • Leadership plateaus because experience is repetitive, feedback is noisy, and the hardest conversations happen too rarely to learn from live.
  • The unit of leadership skill is the conversation. Practise conversations, not models.
  • Structure the work: one skill, a behavioural target, short sessions, rising difficulty.
  • Get an outside view. A coach, a candid peer, or a counterpart that will not collude with you.
  • Ignore the 10,000-hour slogan. Count the quality of attempts, not years in the chair.
  • If you are happy with how you lead, you do not need this. If you keep having the same conversation with the same result, you do.

The next step is not another article. It is an attempt. Pick the conversation you are avoiding, write the sentence, and say it out loud today. Then say it against someone, or something, that will not make it easy.

If you want that counterpart on tap, Real Talk Studio is the practice room I built for this: the conversation before the conversation, with feedback on what you actually said.

Further reading

If you want the research and the wider craft of practice, these are the books I keep coming back to. Several have summaries on this site.

  • Peak — Anders Ericsson and Robert Pool. The source, in readable form.
  • Talent Is Overrated — Geoff Colvin. The business translation of Ericsson.
  • The Talent Code and The Little Book of Talent — Daniel Coyle. Especially good on the "edge of ability" idea.
  • The Knowing-Doing Gap — Jeffrey Pfeffer and Robert Sutton. Why organisations drown in knowledge and starve of action. Summary.
  • Ultralearning — Scott Young. Aggressive, self-directed practice. Summary.
  • The Coaching Habit — Michael Bungay Stanier. A countable drill for manager conversations. Summary.
  • Radical Candor — Kim Scott. The map for feedback. Still requires the walk. Summary.
  • Crucial Conversations — Patterson, Grenny, McMillan, Switzler. Summary and what to do after you finish it.
  • Outliers — Malcolm Gladwell. Read it, then read Ericsson's correction.

For the "how do I actually learn faster" version of this, I also wrote the Accelerated Learning Loop years ago. The loop still holds. Practice is the step most people skip.


Toby Sinclair is the founder of Real Talk Studio, an AI conversation simulation platform. He's an ICF Professional Certified Coach and has spent years helping managers close the gap between reading about leadership and actually practising it.

Practice, not theory

Reading about the conversation isn't practising it.

Real Talk Studio is the driving test — try the same conversation against an AI counterpart before it happens for real.