At the Revolution Conference 2024 in Vilnius Estonian Bart Cosijn shared his vision on the importance of empathic leadership in relation to dialogue skills in nowadays societies. This is the text of his speech.
Thank you very much for this opportunity. My name is Bart Cosijn, and I am the founder of the Estonian Dialogue Academy. Our mission is to foster more open and inclusive cultures of communication. Today, I want to speak with you about empathic leadership. The goal of this conversation is not to present myself as an ideal empathic leader. I try to be one, but I wrestle with my leadership style daily—both in my work and in my personal life. You may face similar challenges. What I do hope to achieve is to inspire you with a few reflections and notes.
Learning as a parent
Let me start with a personal story about my son. He is almost seven years old and speaks both Estonian, thanks to my wife, and Dutch, thanks to me. Just yesterday morning, he came to the door to see me off as I left for the airport. He said, “Fijne reis papa”—“Have a nice trip daddy.” In such moments, my heart melts. He is truly my superman. But over the years, there have been other, more difficult moments. A few years ago, when we were still living in the Netherlands, we took a trip to an amusement park with Estonian family who were visiting. As we walked from the bus stop, my son sped ahead on his kick-scooter. The closer we got to the entrance, the faster he went. There was one last road with cars to cross. I began running after him, but I couldn’t catch up. A car approached, and the driver had to brake hard. I heard him curse from the window, and my heart pounded in my chest. Miraculously, my son had made it to the other side unharmed, as if nothing had happened.
In that moment, I was overwhelmed with fear and reacted with anger, trying to teach him a lesson. But it took me half a day to calm down, while he played happily with his cousins. I still have nightmares about that moment. It left a mark—I became even more protective, often running after him and shouting when he approached a street crossing. But over time, I came to realize that I could not continue like this, especially as my wife and I are now teaching him to ride a bicycle. I also realized that if I truly wanted him to learn about safety, I had to give him a sense of agency. Instead of approaching these conversations with a top-down mindset, I needed to develop a shared understanding—one in which he plays an active role. Most importantly, I had to transform from a helicopter parent into an empathic one. I needed to support him, to listen, to understand how he experiences traffic from his own perspective, so that I could better comprehend the choices he makes.
Empathy versus sympathy
When we talk about empathy, it’s helpful to distinguish between two closely related concepts: empathy and sympathy. For this, I rely on definitions provided by empathy expert Olga Valadon. Sympathy occurs when you feel sorrow for someone else’s situation because you relate to it through your own experiences. It’s the “I feel you” moment. Empathy, in contrast, is the ability to feel compassion without necessarily sharing the same experiences. Sympathy is an important and powerful personal skill. It helps us bond with others, compare experiences, and learn from one another. Empathy, however, allows us to connect even when we do not share similar life experiences. You demonstrate empathy by seeking to understand another person’s perspective, by trying to imagine what the world looks like through their eyes, and by putting yourself in their shoes.
To summarize: sympathy is about both you and the other person—it builds a connection through shared experience. Empathy, however, focuses almost entirely on the other person. It is about truly listening, striving to understand their point of view, and making them feel heard and seen. Fortunately, nature has equipped us to do this. Our brains are filled with mirror neurons—special cells that help us simulate the emotional state of others. They allow us to share someone else’s pain simply by observing them, like when you see someone hurt their knee and instinctively wince. These neurons are especially crucial for children as they learn; empathy is a natural and innate skill at that stage. Sadly, as we grow older, we tend to lose some of this capacity. Our personalities form, our social groups define us, and we begin to emphasise differences instead of common ground.
Leadership styles
Now let’s consider how empathy fits into leadership. I want to compare two styles: charismatic and empathic leadership. I don’t believe one is inherently better than the other—they are shaped by context and personality. Some argue that empathy should be a component of charismatic leadership, not a stand-alone quality. I see two core differences. First is the direction in which leadership operates. Charismatic leadership moves from vision to community. It tests, refines, and shares a vision to inspire action. Empathic leadership works the other way—it begins with the community’s needs, perspectives, and criticisms. The leader facilitates the creation of a shared vision and supports people in achieving it. Charisma is a quality the community bestows on a leader. Empathy is a quality the leader must offer to the community by modeling it and creating a culture where people genuinely listen to one another.
The second difference is subtle but vital: empathic leaders don’t let their own vision obstruct their ability to listen. They practice deep, not functional, listening. Think of those meetings where you’re already formulating your next response instead of truly hearing what others are saying. The more we do that, the less we actually listen. Balancing this is difficult, especially in poorly facilitated settings where your input isn’t clearly welcomed or defined.
Role models
I’ll leave you with a final reflection. When I launched the Estonian Dialogue Academy a year ago and began writing about empathic leadership—particularly why I believe it is lacking in Estonia—I spoke with people in their twenties, early in their careers. They were enthusiastic about the idea. “Bart, it’s great that you are doing this,” they told me. “Yes, we need more dialogue, more empathic leadership. But we have one big problem: we don’t have role models. Our leaders are neither charismatic nor empathic. They just push their visions as widely as possible and hope enough people will follow. But they don’t listen back.” My hope—for the Baltics, for Europe, for the world, in both our work and personal lives—is that we can become better role models. That we can improve the way we engage in dialogue. That we can become stronger empathic leaders within the communities we serve.
Thank you very much.