Through both work and private life, I have met many people where there has been a clear gap between words and actions. Sometimes I meet people who speak as if they have already delivered what they are still only planning to deliver. Trust arises when words are supported by actions. When they are not, a distance emerges that others often notice long before we notice it ourselves.
Why we care about how we come across
We live in a culture where coming across in the right way has almost become a skill in itself. At work, we are expected to be confident, competent and preferably in control, while in social settings we adjust ourselves to fit the situation.
Some people invest more in the outer image than the inner foundation. Expensive clothes, watches, jewellery and other symbols of success signal that life is in order. At the same time, their finances may be tighter than they appear, their relationships more fragile, and everyday life far less polished than the facade suggests.
This also says something about the time we live in. Earlier, we often compared ourselves with celebrities and people far removed from our own everyday lives. Today, we compare ourselves with friends, colleagues, neighbours and acquaintances. Through social media, we get daily glimpses into other people’s lives, often carefully selected glimpses that show the highlights rather than the whole picture.
Our brain is not always very good at distinguishing between a snapshot and the reality behind it. When we are constantly exposed to other people’s success, experiences and achievements, many of us begin to measure our own lives against an image that is rarely complete. That is why the facade has gained such high value. What can be documented, posted or displayed gets attention, while character, integrity and inner security are harder to measure and therefore easier to overlook.
Why maintaining a facade is demanding
Maintaining a facade over time takes energy, especially when it is not only about showing the best in us, but about constructing a version that is slightly ahead of what we actually deliver. There is a difference between reaching toward something you want to become and selling a version of yourself as if you are already there. The first is about development. The second is about staging.
When words run ahead of actions, tension arises. It shows itself in small signs. In shifting eyes, in a voice that tightens, in reactions that become stronger than the situation calls for. Most people register it before they understand it.
I once learned that it is easier to tell the truth than to lie, because then you do not have to remember what you have said. When you build a version of yourself that does not quite match reality, it has to be maintained, defended and adjusted along the way.
We see this clearly in dating. Many people try to come across as a little more successful, a little more interesting, a little more together than they really are. It can work at first and create a good first impression. The question is simply when you should start being yourself. Because sooner or later, the mask will fall, and the longer it stays on, the harder it can be when it does.
Perhaps it is not only about adjustment and compromise, but about how long you manage to hold on to a version of yourself that is slightly more polished than the one that actually exists behind it.
In both relationships and work, it is far less demanding to deal with what is true than with what is constructed. Truth requires courage in the moment.
Reading the room is a strength, but also a responsibility
Since childhood, I have had an ability to read the room, to pick up on dynamics and what lies between the lines. It has been a strength in sales, collaboration and negotiations, because it makes it possible to understand what is really at stake. At the same time, I have also experienced that this ability can create distance.
I worked with a person where the collaboration functioned well, and where we had plans and ideas that stretched far into the future. Over time, I nevertheless began to notice that words and actions did not always match. When I started asking questions and expecting consistency between what was said and what was done, the dynamic changed, and eventually he withdrew.
I never found out why. Experience has taught me that people rarely react most strongly when facts are challenged, but when the story of who they are is challenged.
Through a mutual acquaintance, I heard that he felt as if I did not want to collaborate, and that he had formed a very different picture of me than the one I recognised. For me, it was never about resistance, but about progress. When conversations keep circling around the same thing without anything actually being turned into action, I start asking questions. Not to catch anyone out, but to move forward.
It also made me reflect on the difference between being understood and being exposed. Being understood creates safety because it feels like support. Being exposed can feel like a loss of control, especially if the identity someone presents does not quite match the person they know themselves to be on the inside.
In this case, it was not about small details. It was about money. About progress. About realism. Outwardly, the message was that everything was fine and that the project had every condition for success. At the same time, it gradually became clear that it was precisely the finances that were holding everything back. It was never said directly. Instead, there were new explanations, new delays and new visions.
For me, it was not about exposing anything, but about relating to the facts on the table. When we are talking about concrete plans that require concrete resources, the cards have to be on the table. If one party wants to protect the story, and the other wants to adjust the course according to the facts, distance quickly arises.
Why it is important to be honest about challenges
If a leader expresses that everything is in order, that the finances are under control and that the project is going according to plan, then I relate to that. I take it seriously and try to contribute within the framework that has been presented.
At the same time, small signs sometimes point in another direction. Then I try to ask questions, raise risks or point to needs that may not have been stated.
When the need to appear strong becomes more important than being honest about the challenges, it becomes harder to create progress. It is only when the cards are on the table that others can actually contribute.
Perhaps the real strength does not lie in appearing infallible, but in being open about what is not working. Then the need to see through things disappears, and the energy can be used to solve what is actually standing in the way.
Examples of uncompromising consistency
There are people where there is almost no friction between expression and foundation.
- Olav Thon wore the same red knitted cap whether he was opening a hotel or shopping at the grocery store. He spoke to everyone in the same way, whether it was a hotel employee or a top executive, and never tried to appear more sophisticated than he actually was.
- Warren Buffett, one of the world’s most respected investors, has for decades explained complex financial concepts in language that could have been used around the kitchen table. In an industry known for heavy terminology, he has chosen simplicity over impressive-sounding words.
- Ingvar Kamprad built a global corporation while living cost-consciously in his private life. He flew economy class and spoke about thrift as a value, not as marketing, but as a natural extension of what he stood for.
- Chuck Feeney gave away billions in silence and lived without luxury himself, long before the public knew who was behind it. There was no stage. No PR strategy. Just consistency.
What they have in common is not wealth. It is the absence of a need to appear as something other than what they actually were. Money and position did not change them. It only made them more visible. What was already there became clearer.
Why Words and Actions Must Align
Caring about how we are perceived is a natural part of being human. We want to be liked, respected, and taken seriously, whether in our professional lives, friendships, or close relationships. The challenge arises when there is too great a distance between what we present to others and how we actually live.
The greater that distance becomes, the more energy it takes to maintain. Facades need to be maintained, explained, and defended. I remember a quote I learned many years ago:
“The easiest thing is to be honest and tell the truth, because then you don’t have to remember what you’ve said.”
When words and actions are aligned, there is very little that needs to be explained or defended.
Throughout my life, I have met people who impressed me with their words and people who impressed me with their actions. But those who left the strongest impression were not the ones who talked the most about who they were or what they were going to achieve. They were the ones who consistently demonstrated alignment between what they said and what they did.
We all adapt to different situations. We speak differently with colleagues than we do with family, and we do not necessarily reveal every side of ourselves to everyone we meet. Perhaps that is also why reading people comes with a responsibility. The goal should not be to expose or see through others. The goal should be to create enough trust and safety that facades become unnecessary. Most of us do not actually want to pretend to be something we are not.
What creates trust is not that we are identical in every setting, but that there is consistency between the roles we play and the person we truly are. Not least because it is far easier to be yourself over time than to spend energy maintaining a version of yourself that does not reflect reality.
When words and actions point in the same direction, it becomes easier to believe what is being said. The need to interpret, doubt, and search for hidden motives begins to disappear. Trust is not built by words alone, but by the experiences others have with us over time. Otherwise, our words may eventually have the same effect as the story of the boy who cried “wolf” when there was no wolf. The day a wolf finally appeared, no one believed him.
The same is true for us. When the gap between words and actions becomes too large over time, it is trust, not words, that loses its value.
