Talent Strategy was my job for years. It took stepping away from corporate life to realise I was the wrong person to be doing it - not because I wasn't capable, but because talent strategy isn't an HR problem. It's a leadership one.

Every leadership expert tells you something different about who you're supposed to be. Be vulnerable but confident. Listen but direct. The contradiction is exhausting. What if the real work isn't performing leadership - it's practising it?

Even the best teams fall apart when unexpected hits.

Drawing from a personal redundancy experience and the cycling concept of echelons, this post explores how leaders can navigate organisational crosswinds by building the right formation rather than trying to muscle through change alone.

A mid-week ride, an unexpected challenge, and a lesson about what happens when you stop choosing the comfortable group. Part of the Lessons from the Peloton series.

There's a particular kind of loneliness that comes with being the person everyone turns to for answers. You've built a career on competence. And yet something has shifted. The confidence that once felt like a given now feels fragile.

If this resonates, I want you to know something: losing confidence is not weakness. It's a signal.

"Thank you. I just needed to be listened to."

A reminder that sometimes the most powerful thing a leader can do is put the toolkit down.

The best thing I ever did for my team was accept it wasn't about me. I had to stop performing leadership and start actually leading. Here's what professional cycling teaches us about building teams with clear purpose, complementary skills, and genuine clarity about what matters.

"Stop the noise. I need space to think."

This came up in a client session last week. He arrived overwhelmed with ideas, concerns, problems, opportunities. When that happens, it's my job to create a Think Tank - the space where leaders can untangle what's really going on beneath the urgent.

Why did Bowie and Prince resonate so much at age 12?

Because they showed me that reinvention isn't about abandoning who you are - it's about allowing yourself to evolve into who you're becoming.

The same principle applies to leadership transitions.

Over Christmas, I got a model bicycle as a table gift. I was genuinely excited until I opened it and found dozens of pieces with no instructions. What I needed wasn't coaching - it was clear instruction. But that's not always what's needed. Here's how to know the difference.

Eddie Merckx versus Tadej Pogačar. The numbers say 18% improvement. The reality? Only 2% once you account for technology. For leaders obsessing over AI, the lesson is clear: connection beats tools every time.

It's a cold January morning, and I'm reflecting on my first full year focused on Taggart People.

Three simple questions from the world of cycling have me thinking about what 2025 taught me, what I'm after in 2026, and how I'll get there. What are you carrying forward into the new year?

There's something unusual about going back to an organisation you've left. Yesterday I facilitated a workshop with a team I used to lead - helping them move from a group of talented individuals to something more powerful together. Here's what shifted when we created space to talk about what they felt, not just what they thought.

"I help adults become better adults." A phrase borrowed from Andrew Shorter at JLR that captures exactly what leadership development is really about.

Not fixing broken people - just helping us all become better at handling complexity, understanding ourselves, and leading others.

The worst teams lead organisations. And then they pay consultants and coaches to sort it out. While individual executives may be brilliant, as teams they often fall short. Research identifies three recurring patterns: the Shark Tank (hyper-competitive and political), the Petting Zoo (conflict-avoidant and complacent), and Mediocrity (lacking capability and looking backwards). But there are teams that work differently - and it's not an accident.

I'm sat in the optician's chair, trying contact lenses for the first time at 51 years old, and I can't shake the feeling that something fundamental has shifted.

Not just my vision (though that's definitely different). It's deeper than that. My face comes with glasses. Has done since I was 17. They're part of who I am. Without them? I look like a stranger to myself.

But when you're cycling on busy roads and the Garmin's getting blurry, the coffee menu's unreadable, and that car or tree is just a touch too undefined - you adapt, or you risk something worse than discomfort.

We've seen the enemy… and it is us.

A reflection on the manager behaviours we all recognise - the good ones we aspire to, and the difficult ones that emerge when we're running on empty.

What does it take to stay on the left side of that line?

After 32 years of friendship and a weekend seeing Deacon Blue in Glasgow, I'm reminded that connection isn't indulgent - it's essential. Especially when you're the one everyone else looks to for answers.

Yesterday, I returned to facilitate a team session at a company I'd left 2.5 years ago. They'd changed, I'd changed, but what struck me was how this team had created something rare - a space where people could be themselves completely and deliver brilliantly through their unique strengths. It got me reflecting on my own journey back from some of the lowest points in my career, and what I've learned about taking ownership when you're feeling stuck.

As senior leaders, we're used to being the go-to person when things go wrong. But sometimes that weight on your chest isn't caused by anything you've done wrong.

Here's what I learned about when to stop blaming yourself for outcomes beyond your control.