I was on my trusty Triumph riding out to another filming assignment in the fresh sectors and was dialed into The Rest Is Politics podcast – the now-legendary pairing of Alastair Campbell and Rory Stewart. It was one of those episodes where they managed to be both deeply insightful and low-key hilarious (no mean feat in a world where most political commentary sounds like a GCSE drama production of Apocalypse Now).

Alastair shared a conversation he’d had with a headmaster of a large school – the kind of place that probably has its own postcode. This headmaster wasn’t moaning or virtue-signalling. Just stating a reality: an increasingly large proportion of his and his colleagues’ time is now spent supporting pupils with mental health issues. That includes managing crisis incidents, dealing with referrals, liaising with external agencies, and being on-call pastoral therapists – all on top of, you know, running an actual school.

It struck a chord.

Because only a week earlier, I’d had a very similar conversation – though this time, not in a staff room, but at the boardroom table of a major fresh produce business.

This particular leader – razor sharp, passionate, commercially focused – shared their own challenge. They found themselves regularly pulled into intense pastoral conversations with members of staff struggling with everything from anxiety, to financial distress, to family trauma. All very real, and all very human. And yet – here’s the rub – this same leader was simultaneously frustrated. Because while they were firefighting those individual crises, they weren’t spending enough time with the high performers. The people who quietly, consistently, keep the commercial wheels turning. The ones who can transform the bottom line if you give them an ounce of coaching or a smidge of vision.

That balance – between duty of care and strategic focus – is the new leadership dilemma.

And it’s not just a UK thing. It’s a global storm. It’s estimated that 61% of the global workforce is currently suffering from some form of mental health issue. Read that again. Six out of ten. And while the corporate world tries to process that fact, schools have already been knee-deep in the consequences for years.

So here’s the question I keep circling:

In business (and education) – when you’re working with large, diverse populations – do you have to accept a degree of charity? A human obligation to support people you know you may never get a direct “return” on? Because if you don’t… you risk becoming inhumane. But if you do too much… you risk burning out the very leaders and teachers who hold the whole structure together. It’s a bit like trying to water every plant in the field when you’ve only got one can – and it’s already leaking.

What’s the answer?

Some argue for ruthless focus: “Back your winners.” Others say: “A system that only rewards performance forgets that every top player has off days – and sometimes off years.” Maybe it’s not a binary choice. Maybe we need smarter triage systems in business and education. Systems that allow us to identify who needs urgent support, who needs long-term development, and who just needs us to get out of their way so they can fly. Maybe the answer lies in better boundaries, more scalable mental health frameworks, shared responsibility across teams – and the courage to stop trying to be everything to everyone.

But one thing’s for sure. Whether you’re in a classroom or a cold store, this challenge isn’t going away. And if we want our leaders – in schools, in farms, in fresh produce businesses – to thrive, we can’t keep asking them to be counsellors, managers, and miracle-workers at the same time. It’s time we talked about this more openly. Because pretending that performance and pastoral care live in separate worlds is, frankly, a luxury none of us can afford.

So – what’s your view? Where should we focus our time as leaders? Is it time to admit we can’t do it all? Or is that just the kind of thinking that got us into this mess in the first place?

Let’s discuss.