A young designer presented her concept in a team meeting. The work was cluttered, and the leader knew it. He could have said, “I think this needs simplification.” Instead, he said, “Wow, did we get paid by the pixel for this one?” The room chuckled. He felt witty. He moved on. Three years later, that designer told him, “I almost quit that day. You made me feel like an idiot in front of the whole team.” He did not even remember saying it.

This is one of the most dangerous truths about leadership: your words gain mass as you rise. When a junior team member makes a suggestion, it is a suggestion. When a director makes a suggestion, it is a strong recommendation. When the CEO makes a suggestion, it is a mandate. The same syllables carry different weight depending on who speaks them. Most leaders never adjust for this. They speak casually and wonder why people react intensely.

James wrote that the tongue is like a rudder on a ship; a small thing that steers something much larger (James 3:4-5). He also compared it to a spark that sets a forest ablaze. Both images capture the same reality. Small words steer big cultures. Careless words burn down trust that took years to build. The leader who vents to a manager about a peer has not just had a bad moment. They have set a fire. The leader who makes sarcastic jokes in meetings has not just been witty. They have been steering the ship toward cynicism without knowing it.

Relational equity works like a bank account. Every encouraging word is a deposit. Every cynical remark is a withdrawal. The problem is that deposits come in slowly and withdrawals happen fast. One sarcastic comment in a team meeting can cost more than a month of positive interactions. One frustrated outburst in a one-on-one can undo a year of trust-building. You are probably overdrawn and do not know it. The balance sheet is invisible to you, but it is perfectly visible to your team.

The word sarcasm comes from the Greek word meaning “to tear flesh.” That etymology is not an accident. Sarcasm is hostility disguised as humor. It lets you say the hard thing without taking responsibility for it. “I was just joking” is the coward’s defense. When a leader uses sarcasm, they get to wound someone while maintaining plausible deniability. The target feels the cut. The leader gets to feel clever. It is a terrible trade, and most leaders make it without thinking.

Here is a test you can run on yourself. The next time you are in a meeting and you think of a clever, cutting remark, pause. Ask yourself: what am I protecting? Usually, the answer is your ego. You want to seem smart. You want to show that you noticed the problem. You want credit for being sharp. But the cost of the cheap shot is the relationship. You cannot build trust with people you wound for sport. Governing your tongue means killing the clever line to preserve the person.

The leader I mentioned earlier did not set out to hurt that designer. He was not malicious. He was just ungoverned. He spoke without considering the weight his words now carried. That is the trap. When you were a peer, your sarcasm was annoying. Now that you are a leader, your sarcasm is a wound. When you were a peer, your offhand criticism was feedback. Now it is a verdict. The physics changed, but you kept speaking the same way.

If you want a practical step, try this: before you speak in your next meeting, add five seconds of silence. In that pause, ask yourself two questions. First, does this need to be said? Second, does it need to be said by me, in this way, at this moment? You will be surprised how many comments fail that filter. Not because they are wrong, but because they are unnecessary, or because your position makes them heavier than they need to be. A peer can say “this draft needs work” and it lands as collaboration. A senior leader says the same thing and it lands as judgment.

You cannot lead people if you cannot govern your mouth. An ungoverned tongue does not just create awkward moments; it creates unsafe cultures. People stop bringing you their best ideas because they are afraid of getting cut. People stop telling you the truth because they have learned that truth-telling gets punished with public ridicule. You become the threat your team needs protection from, and you never see it because no one is brave enough to tell you. They just disengage, or leave, or stop caring. And you wonder why the culture feels off.

The good news is that tongues can be trained. You can start today. Pick one meeting this week and commit to zero sarcasm. No clever cuts, no witty jabs, no “jokes” at anyone’s expense. Notice how hard it is. Notice what you want to say but do not. That gap between your impulse and your action is the space where leadership actually lives. The more you practice governing that space, the more trust you will build. And trust, compounded over years, is the only thing that lets you lead when it actually matters.

What would your team say about the weight your words carry?

I write about leadership at the intersection of timeless principles and modern workplaces. Follow for weekly insights on building teams that actually work. For more articles like this consider subscribing to my Substack at: https://justinwilson411.substack.com/