Leaders Are Readers Q2 2026

This quarter's reading list unintentionally gravitated toward leadership biographies and stories. But somewhere between a president, a king, a conversation between a few CIOs, and the CEO of Disney, I found myself thinking less about charisma or vision and more about stewardship.

Each resource in this quarter's reading list wrestles with the same question: What does it mean to inherit something already in progress, and what responsibility do leaders have to the people who will inherit it next?

Higher education institutions can be traced back to 859, with the founding of the University of al-Qarawiyyin. Today, roughly 4,000 colleges and universities operate in the United States alone. No higher education leader starts from nothing, and few hope to be the final steward of the work they inherit. Every leader steps into something that has been shaped by the people who came before them.

That inheritance can be an incredible advantage when leadership is grounded in stewardship and care for an institution beyond the self. But not every leadership legacy leaves things stronger. Some legacies are shaped more by ego, control, or short-term wins than by long-term responsibility to people and mission.

That reality is part of why I keep coming back to stories—not because they offer a blueprint for leadership but because they make leadership feel more human and more complicated. They slow decision-making enough to reveal the in-between moments when tradeoffs, uncertainty, burdens, and responsibilities shape legacy and stewardship.

A Promised Land

By Barack Obama

I expected politics, policy, strategy, and a chronological recounting of a historic journey to the White House from A Promised Land. Those things are certainly present, but what stayed with me most was the deeper story: a person constantly navigating the weight of expectation, criticism, history, and responsibility without allowing cynicism to take over.

The sheer amount of perseverance woven throughout Barack Obama's story is inspiring in itself. An ongoing thread of searching, uncertainty, and self-discovery runs through the narrative. In many ways, higher education leaders navigating artificial intelligence (AI), institutional change, and constant uncertainty should recognize the value of resilience, the practice of figuring things out along the way, and the importance of resisting the path of cynicism.

I also found myself reflecting on how rare hope is in leadership today. I'm not talking about hope in a shallow sense, but rather the recognition that "hope is not optimism, which expects things to turn out well, but something rooted in the conviction that there is good worth working for."^Footnote1

Whether people agree with Obama politically or not, it is hard to deny the sense of possibility his leadership fostered for many. If leaders in this era of change do nothing more than leave behind a greater sense of hope than when they arrived, I would say they have done well.

What I appreciated most throughout A Promised Land was the way Obama approached leadership without continually signaling his own authority or centralizing decision-making—a clear expression of stewardship.^Footnote2 He listened closely, sought advice from people with diverse perspectives, and remained humble enough to apologize, rethink decisions, and show vulnerability.

Some leaders treat leadership as ownership. Others treat it as a temporary responsibility. A Promised Land reminded me that stewardship is often quieter than we expect. It can look like listening more than speaking, strengthening teams and organizations rather than building personal brands, and making decisions with enough humility to recognize that no leader carries the work alone.

In higher education, leadership is never about a single person; it is about the institution. It is not about being president; it is about the presidency. It is not about being CIO; it is about the college or university. Obama's journey offers important lessons about the power of stewardship.

The Last King of America: The Misunderstood Reign of George III

By Andrew Roberts

The Last King of America by Andrew Roberts challenged a leadership caricature I had carried for years, dating back to my time as an American History major.^Footnote3 Like many people in the United States, most of what I "knew" about George III could probably be summarized by two ideas: the "mad king" and the monarch who lost America. This book complicated both narratives in ways I found surprisingly relevant to leadership today.

What struck me most was Roberts' description of the immense pressure George III lived under from birth and the deeply human way he tells the monarch's story.^Footnote4 George struggled with physical and mental health challenges that were poorly understood at the time, all while leading under relentless public scrutiny and geopolitical instability. He stepped into an incredibly complex leadership role at the age of twenty-two and reigned for fifty-nine years, yet he is remembered for almost none of it. The story reminded me how easily history—and organizations—can flatten leaders into simplified narratives while ignoring the complexity of being human under pressure.

I was also reminded how easy it is for leaders to be defined by a single outcome. For George III, the American Revolutionary War is the dominant lens through which many people judge his legacy, even though the broader story of his reign and stewardship of the monarchy was far more nuanced. Higher education does this as well. Entire presidencies, CIO tenures, and institutional eras can be reduced to a single controversy, a failed initiative, or a difficult moment.

The Last King of America reminded me that stewardship rarely fits into a single, clean historical narrative. Leadership legacies are often far more human, complicated, and unfinished than the simplified stories people tell about them later. Every leader is also a human being. There is value in remembering that obvious yet often overlooked reality.

"Developing the Next Generation of Leaders"

Marilu Goodyear, Jenny Mehmedovic, Michael Cato, and Cynthia Golden

An episode of The Integrative CIO podcast featuring Marilu Goodyear and Jenny Mehmedovic brought the themes of stewardship and story from the pages of history into the realities of higher education today.

Both leaders described leadership not as personal advancement but as a way to develop people, build organizational capacity, and help others grow. That may be confirmation bias on my part, but the consistency was striking. At one point, Goodyear described her leadership goal as eventually "working herself out of the job" by cultivating the strengths of others. Leadership is not about becoming indispensable; it is about ensuring that the mission and people who carry it forward continue to thrive.^Footnote5

I also appreciated that the conversation centered on learning through relationships, mentorship, sponsorship, and reflection. Again and again, both guests returned to the importance of learning from others' experiences, understanding how people think, and helping emerging leaders discover their own strengths and voices. There was very little discussion of leadership in terms of authority or status. Instead, leadership was framed as deeply human, relational, and growth oriented.

I'm always shocked when I hear leaders speak as though the bottom line of their work is anything other than people. Money, enrollment targets, and everything else are not the true bottom line; they are simply signals of it.

When I was teaching future educators, I often used a phrase that I became known for: "As a teacher, your impact is never neutral." Goodyear and Mehmedovic reminded me that the same is true of leadership. Every leader is shaping future leaders, whether they realize it or not. The only question is whether they are shaping the kind of leaders we need. Stewardship is not simply about developing leaders; that happens regardless. Rather, it is about approaching each day with the intention of developing a new generation of thriving, human-first leaders.

Goodyear and Mehmedovic remind us that the most effective leaders learn from and for others—a lesson that echoes why I keep coming back to stories.

The Ride of a Lifetime: Lessons Learned from 15 Years as CEO of the Walt Disney Company

By Robert Iger

The Walt Disney Company is one of the most recognizable organizations in the world, and I have always appreciated its commitment to creating memorable, intentional, and meaningful experiences for every guest. What struck me throughout The Ride of a Lifetime is how closely Disney's culture is tied to stewardship over time, not just creativity alone.

One idea from Iger's book that has stayed with me is that organizations must continue to evolve or risk becoming irrelevant.^Footnote6 His "innovate or die" mindset feels especially relevant to higher education at a moment when AI, demographic shifts, financial pressure, and changing learner expectations are forcing institutions to rethink longstanding assumptions. I appreciated that Iger's approach to innovation wasn't reckless or driven by trends. It was consistently tied to mission, audience, and long-term sustainability.

I also appreciated his view that demanding excellence and treating people well are not competing leadership values. A consistent theme in the book is that professionalism, respect, composure under pressure, and kindness are not weaknesses in leadership but are essential to sustaining excellence over time. When the pressure is high, some leaders set high expectations but leave respect behind. Iger's journey illustrates that the two operate together, not separately.

I also found his reflections on serving as second-in-command before becoming CEO surprisingly valuable. Rather than constantly advocating for himself, he focused on doing exceptional work, clarifying priorities, and strengthening the company. In a culture that often rewards visibility and self-promotion above all else, this broader definition of success is worth considering.

The Ride of a Lifetime reinforces the idea that stewardship is not passive preservation. Great leaders honor what makes an institution meaningful while having the courage to evolve it for the future.

Closing Thoughts

The stories of those who have lived and led before us can be ignored, forgotten, or honored. I choose to honor them because doing so ensures that their lessons continue to inform my thinking. Knowing what to do and what not to do, what to say and what not to say, is the secret to stewardship.

As a higher education leader, you never have to start from scratch. You are in the middle of a long story.

Steward well. Take what you are given, strengthen it, and eventually hand it off to the next person so they can do the same.

Be curious. Be well.

Notes

1. This quote is often attributed to Seamus Heaney, Irish poet and playwright. While the original source is unknown, it might be a paraphrased from Vaclav Havel's book Disturbing the Peace. Jump back to footnote 1 in the text.↩
2. Barack Obama, A Promised Land (Crown, 2020). Jump back to footnote 2 in the text.↩
3. I am a big fan of Andrew Roberts' biographies. In addition to The Last King of America, I enjoyed his biographies of Churchill and Napolean. Each is somewhere between 700–1,000 pages, so they are not for the faint of heart, but they are truly art on the page. Jump back to footnote 3 in the text.↩
4. Andrew Roberts, The Last King of America (Penguin Books, 2021).Jump back to footnote 4 in the text. ↩
5. Marilu Goodyear, Jenny Mehmedovic, Michael Cato, and Cynthia Golden, "Developing the Next Generation of Leaders," The Integrative CIO, produced by Gerry Bayne, EDUCAUSE Review, March 19, 2026. Jump back to footnote 5 in the text.↩
6. Robert Iger, The Ride of a Lifetime: Lessons Learned from 15 Years as CEO of the Walt Disney Company (Random House, 2019). Jump back to footnote 6 in the text.↩

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Ryan MacTaggart is Associate Director, Professional Learning, at EDUCAUSE.