Editor’s note: This op-ed for Bus & Motorcoach News is written by Brian Dickson, Owner and Principal Consultant of Bus Business Consultants.
I recently read a parable called “The Sound of the Forest” from “Parables of Leadership” by W. Chan Kim and Renée Mauborgne, initially published in the Harvard Business Review over three decades ago. Despite its age, its message remains remarkably relevant—perhaps even more so in today’s fast-paced, highly digital workplace, where leaders can become increasingly detached from the everyday experiences of their teams.
The story follows Prince T’ai, who was sent by his father, King Ts’ao, to study under the wise master Pan Ku. As part of his training, Pan Ku instructed the young prince to enter the Ming-Li Forest and listen. For an entire year, the prince wandered the forest, tuning his senses to the sounds of nature.
When he returned, he enthusiastically described what he had heard: “the calls of cuckoos, the hum of bees, the rustle of leaves, and the whisper of wind.” Pan Ku nodded but quietly sent him back, saying there was more to hear.
Puzzled but obedient, T’ai returned to the forest. This time, he listened for the obvious and subtle sounds that don’t reveal themselves immediately. Slowly, he began to notice what he had missed before: “the sound of flowers blooming, the sun warming the earth, the grass drinking the morning dew.”
When he returned, Pan Ku explained the deeper lesson:
“To hear the unheard is a necessary discipline to be a good ruler. For only when a leader has learned to listen closely to the people’s hearts—hearing their feelings uncommunicated, pains unexpressed, and complaints unspoken—can he truly lead with wisdom and compassion.” (Kim & Mauborgne, 1992)
It’s a powerful metaphor. Many leaders listen to what’s said, but far fewer attune themselves to what isn’t. We often rely on dashboards, reports, or performance metrics, which are essential, but real leadership insight comes from proximity, presence, and attention – from hearing what others miss.
This parable reminded me of one of the most meaningful leadership experiences of my career—when I stepped into the shoes of the frontline cast members who operated the parking lots at Walt Disney World.
Going into the forest (and into the heat)
When I took on that role, I decided: I wouldn’t lead from a distance. I would step into the shoes – literally – of the cast members who made that operation run.
So I wore the full costume and completed the 10-day training program for the toll plaza, parking lot, and courtesy tram roles. It was May in Central Florida—hot, humid, and unforgiving. And while 10 days out of the office wasn’t ideal from a scheduling standpoint, it was non-negotiable from a leadership standpoint.
I needed to see and feel what my team dealt with daily. I needed to go into their forest.
Moments that changed the way I led
Several moments stand out from that experience—moments that helped me “hear the unheard.”
- The point position wake-up call. Within seconds of shadowing the cast member at the point position—the person directing traffic into either side of the Magic Kingdom lot—a Chevy Suburban came flying toward us at what felt like 100 miles an hour. I froze. It was a jarring reminder of the physical risk involved in that role. The experience drove home the importance of visibility, standing discipline, and safety protocols – not from a checklist, but from instinct.
- The heat beneath our feet. As a fielder, directing vehicles into specific rows, I stood on blistering asphalt in the blazing sun. I remarked to my trainer, Mike, that I now understood why people complained their shoes wore out so quickly. “Yep,” he said with a grin, “when you’re out here, you smell something cooking, and then you realize—it’s you.” That moment was funny, but telling. After that, we took extra care to ensure teams had enough water, cooling towels, shaded breaks, and rest time. I didn’t learn that from a report – I knew it because I was standing on the blacktop, sweating like everyone else.
- Policy that had outlived its purpose. In the tram loading area, I saw cast members enforcing an “order of seating” policy—placing smaller children toward the inside of the row and adults on the outside. This was rooted in safety logic from decades earlier, when the trams didn’t have doors. But by then, doors had long been installed. Still, the policy remained. Cast members didn’t like enforcing it, and guests resented it, especially after a long day in the park. When I asked why we still did it, I got shrugs. A few weeks later, I worked with the right departments to eliminate the policy, improving morale and guest experience in one stroke.
- The repeating spiel. As guests boarded trams to return to their cars at night, a safety spiel had to be played before the tram could depart. But I noticed that if a guest boarded just after the spiel began, the cast member would replay it—sometimes two or three times. The reasoning? “Everyone has to hear it.” The result? Frustrated guests and burned-out cast members. Again, I asked the question, challenged the assumption, and confirmed that the policy had evolved. We implemented a more practical approach and eased one more point of friction.
The leadership shift
In each of these situations, I saw long-accepted irritants—quiet frustrations that no one had voiced but everyone had felt. No one filed complaints or demanded a change, but the issues were real.
Had I stayed in the office, I might have missed everything. But by stepping into their environment and immersing myself in their day-to-day world, I saw and felt what they felt. And I heard what they weren’t saying.
That’s what the parable meant. To hear the unheard, you have to get close enough to listen – beyond words, into the lived experience of your people.
Application beyond Disney
This isn’t just a story about a parking lot. It’s a reminder that proximity creates perspective. That leadership isn’t about making pronouncements from behind a desk – it’s about stepping into the work, walking the floor, asking the questions, and paying attention to the answers that come without being spoken.
What are the equivalents of your organization’s heat, shoes, and unnecessary spiel?
What systems, policies, or behaviors create silent friction for your team or customers?
You won’t know from a spreadsheet. But you might if you go into the forest.
Final thought
No, I didn’t hear flowers opening or grass drinking dew. But I definitely heard the asphalt boiling – and I felt the weight of unspoken challenges my team faced every day.
And by hearing the unheard, I gained their trust, improved the operation, and became a better leader.
So ask yourself: Where do you truly need to go to listen?
What truths are just beneath your organization’s surface, waiting to be heard?
Brian Dickson is the owner and principal consultant of Bus Business Consultants. Read more of his columns at Ground Transportation Insights | Brian Dickson | Substack
