Close Your Door: Why Being Too Accessible Hurts Your Team
One of our facilitators recently wrote something in a forum discussion during a cohort of our 12 Week Irrelevant Leader™ program that really struck me:
“Closing the door is less about limiting their access to us. It’s about limiting our access to them in periods when they are learning and growing.”
That’s it.
That’s the shift.
And it perfectly captures what I mean when I say ‘Close Your Door’.
We Think Accessibility Equals Good Leadership
For years, we’ve been told to have an open-door policy.
Be available.
Be accessible.
Be responsive.
And at face value, that sounds right. Leaders should be approachable. Leaders should be supportive.
But there’s a subtle trap hidden in constant accessibility. When we make ourselves too available, we unintentionally remove the space others need to think, struggle, and solve.
We answer too quickly.
We step in too soon.
We smooth out the discomfort that actually builds capability.
What feels like support can quietly become dependency.
The Real Issue Isn’t Their Access to Us
Most leaders think “closing your door” is about boundaries. About protecting your calendar. About focusing.
But this forum comment gets to the deeper truth:
It’s not about protecting your time. It’s about protecting their growth.
When we keep inserting ourselves into decisions, we interrupt learning.
When we stay constantly accessible, we shorten the distance between question and answer — and eliminate the reflection that builds judgment.
When we are always there, we reduce the need for others to step forward. Closing the door isn’t an act of distance. It’s an act of belief.
Limiting our access to them.
Because let’s be honest — leaders often derive a sense of value from being needed.
If people are constantly coming to us:
We feel relevant. We feel important. We feel central.
But if we step back?
If we close the door?
If fewer decisions require us?
It can feel like we’re disappearing.
That’s the ego challenge I wrote about in Chapter 1 of The Irrelevant Leader. The tension between relevance and irrelevance. The fear that if we aren’t needed, we don’t matter.
But here’s the paradox:
The more you insert yourself, the smaller your team becomes.
The more you step back, the stronger they grow.
Growth Requires Friction
Think about how people learn.
They learn by:
Wrestling with ambiguity.
Making imperfect decisions.
Testing judgment.
Feeling responsible for outcomes.
When we constantly intervene, we remove that friction. We may save time in the short term. We may prevent a mistake.
But we also prevent development. Closing the door creates space.
Space to think. Space to own. Space to struggle. Space to rise.
Close the Door — Strategically
This doesn’t mean disappearing. It doesn’t mean being unavailable in a crisis. It doesn’t mean withholding support.
It means being intentional about when your involvement helps — and when it hinders.
Before stepping in, ask:
Am I helping them grow, or helping myself feel relevant?
Am I solving something they’re capable of solving?
If I wait, what might they figure out?
Sometimes the most powerful leadership act is restraint.
The Door Is a Metaphor
In Chapter 1, “Close Your Door” isn’t just about a physical door. It’s about a mindset shift.
You are not the centre of the team. You are not the bottleneck. You are not the hero. Your job is to build people who can operate without you.
Closing the door is less about limiting their access to you.
It’s about limiting your access to them — so they can grow into leaders themselves.
And that’s the kind of irrelevance that truly matters.