A good leader recognises that the goal is never to be ‘righter’ than the next person, writes Áine Mac Grory
We return from that brief interlude. I left the reader in suspense while I revelled in my favourite county’s win. I know, priorities, right? Donegal v Cavan… for those of you asking, 3-26 to 1-13. We must move on though. That was ego, this is leadership. There is no place for gloating in leadership.
I have often pondered the role of leadership in pharmacy. From these internal musings I have concluded, much like ego, how much of a role it plays in healthcare. Where multidisciplinary teams are involved, we all desire the credit when we have a positive outcome and equally, we want none of it when we don’t.
When communication breaks down, when no-one leads clearly, when too many people try to take charge of the reins, things don’t just become inefficient. They can become damaging.
The real problem isn’t always misinformation. Sometimes, it’s conflicting information — delivered confidently, passionately, and with completely different takes, depending on which professional the patient speaks to.
None of it is necessarily wrong. But together, it feels fragmented. Disjointed. And the patient, caught in the middle, doesn’t see professional nuance. They see contradiction. They start to doubt everyone. They ask the same question six different ways, hoping to land on a single, unified truth.
This is where leadership really matters. Not because someone needs to ‘win’ the clinical argument, but because someone needs to steer the ship back to clarity.
A good leader recognises that the goal is never to be ‘righter’ than the next person — the goal is to instill confidence. To make the patient feel like the whole team is working from the same page, even if they took different paths to get there. A good leader will recognise this. A good leader will stay on-task.
Caught out
I’ve been caught out before. I think we have all had those moments.
I often assume that as a pharmacist, the patient has sourced me as their first point of contact, when in fact it is often the reverse.
‘What’s the best thing for a headache?’ — you enter your basic counselling, and you are met with reluctance to disclose.
Why? Because this is a test. And it is negative marking. That patient came in with an agenda and you didn’t get a copy of the minutes.
The patient has decided to take matters into their own hands and is now trying to gather evidence before they throw the book at us all.
So, here’s muggins yapping at the counter about analgesia and NSAIDs, not realising the person before them is getting more and more irate.
‘That’s not what my neurologist said’ — you realise at that point you never stood a chance because when that patient came in and asked that question, they didn’t want to hear my response. It was a set-up. An opportunity to unleash their pent-up fury and frustration.
‘I have been suffering from migraines for years now and nobody can tell me why!’
Migraines? Who said anything about migraines?
‘I was on a waiting list for this guy for almost a year and when I finally got to see him, he gave me an antidepressant and a medicine to reduce my blood pressure,
And I don’t even have any blood pressure! Can you believe that?’
Do I have the strength not to retort? It’s taken years of practice but in this case, yes. A conversation for another day, I think.
So, here I am. I have options. I’ve been caught off-guard. Raging, I missed the sneak attack. How did I not see that coming? The signs were all there.
Hindsight — let me tell you. If only I could have activated more foresight, eliminating the need for the ‘hind’, and saving my own in the process.
Resign ego
How do I lead effectively here? First, resign ego. Encourage engagement. Offer clarification where possible and reassure the patient about the reason for these clinical decisions, even if they were not my own.
Does this method serve me or the patient? If the answer is the patient, then I can live with this decision. That is a positive outcome, but it is a harder one to achieve.
Having considered the factors that influence leadership, I stumbled upon the theme of unconscious bias. The internal filter that tells us who looks competent. Who sounds authoritative. Who we instinctively trust, and who we don’t.
It operates in the background of every decision we make.
What has that got to do with leadership? Everything. Don’t believe me? How quickly do you form an opinion based on their tone, their confidence, their age… or even their profession? We’re not always aware of these patterns, but they’re powerful — and they can subtly shape how we lead, how we follow, and how we collaborate. Not you? No chance?
Let’s give this a go, if only to prove me wrong. In comes the patient, or advocate for the patient in some cases. You begin your standard counselling, only to be immediately interrupted. “Oh — I know. I’m a N _ _ _ _.”
Did you struggle to fill in the blanks? I have yet to meet a pharmacist who doesn’t resonate with the panic that sets in, and the instant need to double down on the counselling — because that one phrase, delivered with pride and zero hesitation, tells me exactly what’s about to happen next. It’s a classic clash of leaders. The need to assert your authority because in the movie that is your life you are cast as the leader, and you don’t know what other role to play.
I’m not at the stage of being a nanny just yet, but I have seen the role of the matriarch in my own household and when growing up, I knew not to question it.
So, what happens here? Do I respect and recognise this Nanny’s wisdom and position? Of course. Does she respect mine? It’s unclear. Do I want to engage in one big power struggle and mark my territory in this instance? Maybe, yeah. But does that aid in achieving the main goal? No.
I’ve been on the receiving end of that pointed finger and scolding tone far too many times, usually followed by something like, ‘Listen here, young lady, I’ve been pouring boiled olive oil in ears since before you were born.’
Which, while medically concerning, does offer me a small glimmer of joy when the word ‘young’ is used. Fine. I’ll spare Betty her index finger today.
I don’t question that these methods may have been used in the past with no complaint, but these old wives’ tales are just that. Old. Outdated, and not evidence-based.
No, Nanny Betty, we don’t give a double dose of the yellow-flavoured antibiotic ‘to get it started’.
Back away from the air — that gaping wound needs to be clean and covered.
And no, Coca-Cola and crisps are not an acceptable treatment plan for diarrhoea. Do not get me started on the boiled 7Up.
In this instance, the need to retire the ‘respect your elders’ phenomenon is critical. It might go against the grain to contradict or not submit to that pointed finger, but no more than the need to step back in a multidisciplinary team is necessary for the safety of the patients, so is the need to speak up against one. In another lifetime, one would be taking their lives into their own hands.
Welcome curiosity
If no-one can question the person ‘in charge’, then that person isn’t leading; they’re being enabled. A good leader in any setting, but especially in modern healthcare, welcomes curiosity. They create a culture where it feels safe to ask a question. Where disagreement isn’t seen as insubordination, but as insight. Where a junior team member can say, ‘Are we sure about this?’ without fear of reprimand or ridicule.
That kind of leader doesn’t just tolerate a fresh perspective; they actively seek them out. When every voice around the table looks the same, thinks the same, agrees by default, and shares the same belief system, what you end up with isn’t unity — it’s herd mentality. This is where leadership goes to die, and ego goes to thrive.
A confident leader isn’t threatened by challenge. They know that progress happens when people feel empowered to question, explore, and even disagree — because that’s how you avoid blind spots. That’s how you expand your scope of understanding. And that’s how you find real solutions, not just the most comfortable ones.
I’ve never heard a GP say, ‘I’m basically a pharmacist’. I’ve never seen a consultant imply they could do my job better. And yet, I’ve lost count of how many times my patients say, with good intention, ‘sure, you’re as good as any GP’ and while intended as compliment (which I never shy away from receiving ordinarily), it is one I refuse to accept.
We shouldn’t have to justify our value by borrowing someone else’s title. Pharmacy isn’t a stepping stone. It’s a profession. A field of expertise that patients rely on and healthcare would collapse without.
Understanding the limits of your role doesn’t make you smaller; it makes you smarter.
Surrounding yourself with people who have knowledge, specifically in areas you don’t, is not a threat. It’s a resource. When you engage with them, ask questions, and listen, you don’t lose leadership — you gain depth.
Leadership in community pharmacy isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about knowing when to ask the right questions and when to let someone else answer.
It’s not about dominance. It’s about discernment.
And yes, sometimes it’s about standing up to Nanny Betty, and other times it’s about silencing your defence to allow the patient to regain some control.
Let’s keep championing our professions, not as a doctor, not as a nurse (who said anything about nurses?). But proudly, confidently, as pharmacists.
Áine is a Superintendent Pharmacist and pharmacy owner with over 18 years of experience working in community pharmacies across Ireland. In 2014, she earned her Master of Pharmacy (MPharm) degree in the UK. Her career journey has encompassed a variety of roles, including locum, support, and supervising, culminating in her recent transition to pharmacy ownership. She is deeply committed to upholding the integrity and vital role of community pharmacy in Ireland, combining her extensive experience with a passion for patient care and professional excellence.
