Nobody steps into leadership expecting smooth sailing every day. Most of us find out pretty quickly that the real tests of leadership crop up when things go sideways: a missed quarter, a product flop, or the sudden shock of market disruption. In those moments, your team turns to you for cues—not just on what to do next, but on how to feel and whether to hope. No pressure, right? But it’s in exactly these circumstances that our choices and behaviors as leaders can stitch together the very fabric of long-lasting morale.

Whenever I find myself leading a team through rough waters, I start with honesty. It’s tempting to want to shield everyone from bad news or downplay problems, but in my experience, that creates a bigger emotional debt later on. I’ve had to stand in front of teams and say, “Yes, we missed our goal,” or, “This project didn’t land as we hoped.” But that’s only the first half. As soon as we get real about the problem, we pivot to, “Here are three things we can do next,” or “Let’s talk about how we’ll move forward.” This isn’t just about damage control—it’s about agency. When people know exactly where they stand and what part they can play next, anxiety fades and creative energy returns.

There’s an old saying from Winston Churchill that’s stuck with me:

“If you’re going through hell, keep going.”

How do you keep going when it feels like you’re falling behind? One habit I swear by is celebrating small wins, no matter how modest. Momentum isn’t about hitting home runs during tough times—it’s about moving the ball forward, inch by inch. When a team member solves a nagging technical issue or smooths out a rough customer experience, I make it a point to call it out. It isn’t about false positivity or awarding participation trophies. It’s about helping people see that progress still happens, even now, even here. Psychologically, these moments turn into stepping stones, not stumbling blocks. They keep hope alive and make the next push easier.

Ever notice how problems seem twice as big when you try to solve them alone? During setbacks, I’ve learned that pulling the team into the solution process does two very powerful things. First, it shows that I trust their brains as much as their effort. Second, it turns a group of bystanders into active participants. I’ll sometimes set aside time just for open brainstorming: “What are we missing? Who has a wild idea?” These are the times when the quietest person in the room might offer a flash of insight no one else considered. Suddenly, ownership shifts—this isn’t just my crisis, it’s ours to solve. That sense of agency is a powerful antidote to passivity and resignation.

Let me pose a question: when was the last time you checked in—not about work progress, but about how people are actually doing? Setbacks are as much an emotional event as they are a business event. I make sure my team knows about resources for support, whether that’s formal counseling, peer circles, or even just an open invitation to talk one-on-one. During a particularly tough restructuring, I discovered that simply acknowledging stress and exhaustion was a relief for my colleagues. Too often, we want to rush past the human experience of a setback, but it’s exactly those moments that call for empathy.

One of my favorite bits of wisdom comes from Maya Angelou, who said:

“People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

While quick fixes are important, the longer game is meaning. Why are we doing this work? What’s the purpose that survived even when a project failed or a target slipped away? I try to revisit our organization’s “why” during setbacks, to show that our actions still matter on a bigger scale. This helps cut through the noise of disappointment with the clarity of mission. Even better, connecting back to a shared purpose reframes the setback—not as defeat, but as a necessary chapter in a bigger story. Teams that sense their work matters are more likely to dig deep and rally, rather than drift into disengagement.

I’ve watched leaders fall into the trap of swinging between two extremes: either sugarcoating bad news with empty optimism or delivering harsh reality without any path forward. The real art comes in balancing realism with hope. I strive to say, “Here are the facts. Here’s what we’re up against. But here’s why I believe in us, and here’s where we go from here.” This creates psychological safety—it’s okay to acknowledge what’s tough, but it’s not okay to get stuck in despair.

Consider this: how do you show your own resilience in front of your team? I’ve found that vulnerability is a secret superpower. Telling your team about a time you struggled and how you came through it demystifies the process of bouncing back. It also invites others to share their own stories, which builds connection and normalizes the emotional rollercoaster of setbacks. When a team sees their leader confronting difficulty with both courage and humility, they’re more likely to adopt those traits themselves.

There’s another side benefit: inviting people into the messiness of setbacks fuels creativity. Some of the best innovations I’ve witnessed didn’t come from brainstorming in the sunshine—they came from necessity, during dark or uncertain times. When we’re honest about the constraints but open to new ways of thinking, out-of-the-box solutions emerge. As Albert Einstein put it:

“In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.”

Rewarding risk-taking, even if it sometimes fails, reinforces a growth mindset and a culture of psychological safety. I make it clear that mistakes are not fatal—they’re data. What matters is what we learn and how we grow on the other side.

Another often overlooked approach is peer recognition—not just manager-to-employee praise. Sometimes I’ll kick off a meeting by asking, “Who do you want to thank for helping you this week?” Recognizing support and teamwork among colleagues, especially in tough spells, weaves bonds that last beyond any single project. When morale takes a hit, these connections act as shock absorbers, cushioning the impact and giving people the strength to press on.

You might ask, “What about when the setback itself drags on for months, not days?” This is where consistency is key. Keeping communication channels open, checking in regularly (even when there’s no news), and affirming the value of small advances helps prevent fatigue and cynicism. It’s tempting to want to withhold updates until there’s a big breakthrough, but I’ve found the opposite is true: steady, transparent dialogue keeps trust intact.

At the end of the day, effective leaders aren’t superhuman. What sets them apart is the willingness to stand in the mess, see it clearly, and lead others through it with both candor and compassion. Facing setbacks with a blend of honesty, encouragement, shared problem-solving, emotional support, and a strong sense of purpose doesn’t just get teams through the crisis—it actually strengthens the group for whatever comes next.

Whenever I find myself doubting whether these practices make a real difference, I remember something Nelson Mandela said:

“The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”

If you’re guiding a team through a setback right now, know this: your response matters—a lot. Your words, your tone, your willingness to see both the pain and the path forward set the temperature for your entire team. So, how will you use the moment? What will you say or do today that helps your people believe in themselves, in each other, and in the work you do together?