Editorial Note
This essay is part of the Cultivated canon — a body of work exploring leadership as a practice of awareness, clarity, and meaning-making. It reflects a simple but often overlooked truth: before leaders can change anything, they must first learn to see.
The Art of Noticing
Good leaders and managers share a quiet but powerful trait.
They notice.
They notice what is happening around them — not just the obvious events, but the patterns beneath the surface. They notice how people behave when no one is watching. They notice where ideas flows smoothly to value, and where it quietly grinds to a halt. They notice the signals hidden in everyday activity.
This is the art of noticing.
This essay can also be explored in audio form. You’re welcome to listen — or continue reading below.
Noticing is about widening your awareness. It is the ability to see the system you are part of, rather than just the role you occupy within it. In organisations, the most effective leaders are rarely the loudest voices in the room. They are the ones with the widest lens.
They study how work really gets done.
They observe who connects people and who blocks progress.
They understand where effort is being wasted and where it compounds.
They become company smart — and stay that way.
There are many ways to develop this awareness. You can follow work end to end and see what actually happens, rather than what process maps suggest should happen. You can pay attention to delays, handovers, and moments of confusion. You can listen carefully to how people talk about their work — and what they avoid talking about.
But one of the most powerful teachers of noticing comes from an unexpected place: creative practice.
Art trains attention.
When you draw, write, film, or photograph, you are forced to slow down and look properly. You stop seeing the world as a blur of assumptions and start noticing light, shape, movement, and relationship. You learn to decide what matters — and what does not.
Photography, in particular, has sharpened my ability to notice.
When you frame a photograph, you make deliberate choices. What stays in the frame. What is excluded. Where attention is drawn. What story is being told. And in doing so, you also become aware of yourself — your biases, your habits, your perspective.
Leaders make these same decisions every day.
What do we focus on?
What do we ignore?
How do we frame a situation so others can see it clearly?
This is why creative practice is not separate from leadership.
It is training for it.
At work, the art of noticing shows up in simple but powerful ways.
Leaders who notice understand how systems actually operate, not how they are described. They can see when behaviour aligns with stated values — and when it does not. They recognise who helps work move forward and who unintentionally slows it down.
Because their insights are grounded in observation rather than assumption, the changes they propose make sense. They are credible. They are actionable.
Noticing also underpins leadership as storytelling.
Leadership is not just awareness — it is the ability to frame what you have noticed in a way that helps others see it too. To draw a boundary around what matters. To explain the system back to itself.
That is how alignment forms.
So yes, sometimes I walk through Winchester with a camera. But what I am really practicing is leadership.
Not louder opinions.
Not faster answers.
Just the discipline of paying attention.
Because before anything can be improved, it must first be seen.
Video
Editor’s note: This essay grows from an earlier exploration in another medium. The thinking remains central, even as the format has changed.

This piece forms part of Cultivated’s wider body of work on how ideas become valuable, and how better work is built.
To explore further:
→ Library — a curated collection of long-form essays
→ Ideas — developing thoughts and shorter writing
→ Learn — practical guides and tools from across the work
→ Work with us — thoughtful partnership for teams and organisations