The HAT Tool for a Leader Paying Attention
The most underrated leadership tool I know costs nothing, needs no license, and a strict Spanish nun modeled it for me decades ago.
When I was a young primary school student at a convent school, I avoided one person whenever I could: the principal. She was a Spanish nun, and she also taught me English, art, and physical education. She loved sports; she was strict, and her standards were impossibly high. Art was the subject I hated most. I did not like her, and I'm fairly sure she knew it. I can still hear her calling me "Samuel" whenever I was out of line or falling short of one of those impossible standards.
Years later, life came full circle. I went back to that same school to teach, and there she was. Same nun. Same standards, possibly higher. Only this time I wasn't at a desk in her classroom. I was working beside her.
And somewhere along the way, I came to love her.
Maya Angelou, the poet and Presidential Medal of Freedom recipient, is often credited with saying, "People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." I can't recall every lesson she taught me or every project we finished. But I have never forgotten how she made me feel: seen, believed in, and worth the effort.
She became my mentor, and far more than that. She gave me her friendship, the affection of a grandmother, her teaching, her prayers, and a steady push. The project I remember most is the school magazine. My desktop publishing skills were thin, and my writing wasn't much better. She didn't lower the bar. She stood beside me, gently pressing me to work harder, work smarter, and look again. Without my noticing, she was building something in me I didn't know was there: a sense of design.
That attention paid off. I still draw on what she planted, every time I design a system, a strategy, or a slide.
The idea that brought her back to mind
I recently came across a video and newsletter from a former monk, CEO who went on to MIT, and one line stuck with me: you can't be half-present and fully connected.
He wasn't talking about attention to detail in your work. He meant attention to the person in front of you. Anyone who has worked in technology knows what context switching does to a processor. It does the same thing to a conversation. Half our attention on the screen means half a connection with the human.
To practice this, he offers a simple framework he calls the HAT principle. In every interaction, offer at least one of three things.
H is for Help
Listen for what the person actually needs, not what you assume. Watch for what isn't said. My mentor never simply told me a magazine page was wrong. She sat down, showed me why, and told me what to try next. Her help met me where I really was.
A is for Appreciation
Be specific. I think of it as three levels, each going deeper than the last:
- Say it: "Thanks, that looks great."
- Name what they did: "Thanks, that looks great. Aligning the photos with the headlines makes the page easy to read."
- Explain why it mattered: "…Parents will actually stop and read this instead of flipping past it. You have a real eye for this."
Level three is the one people carry for years. I know, because I still remember the times she told me something I'd done was good and why.
A few examples:
- To a staff member: "Thanks for catching that error in the budget report before it went to the board. You saved us a lot of headaches and protected our credibility. I really value how carefully you check your work."
- To a team: "You all stayed late to get the system back online Friday night. Because of that, students could register on Monday without a single hiccup. That's what ownership looks like."
- To a peer: "Thanks for looping me in early on that vendor decision. It kept my team from building something we'd have had to throw away."
- To another leader: "The way you handled that tough conversation in the meeting kept everyone at the table. I learned something watching you do it."
- To your child: "You finished your homework before I even asked. That meant we had time to go to the park together. I'm proud of how responsible you're becoming."
- To your spouse: "Babe, you found that billing mistake on the insurance statement. That saved us a lot of money, and honestly, I'd never have caught it. Thank you for looking out for us."
T is for Time
Give someone a few minutes without competing with your screen. Close the laptop. Turn the phone face down. Ask the question you've been meaning to ask. My mentor was running an entire school, and she still made time for me, again and again. I didn't understand then what that cost her. As a leader today, I do.
Why this matters for leaders, and for everyone
People rarely remember the memo or the meeting agenda. They remember whether the person in charge actually saw them. A leader who helps with real needs, names good work specifically, and gives undivided time builds a kind of trust no title can buy. My mentor held the highest position in that school, but her real authority in my life came from her attention.
You don't need a leadership role for this to matter. The HAT is really a daily workout for emotional intelligence and empathy. Looking for ways to help trains you to read what others need. Specific appreciation trains you to see the good in people, not just the gaps. Giving time trains you to put someone ahead of your distractions. Practice it long enough and it stops being a technique. It becomes who you are.
And it's small. A sentence of encouragement. Five minutes without a phone. One practical offer of help. Small things, given consistently and generously, compound.
The Takeaway
Even when you feel overlooked yourself, and most of us have, you can still help someone else feel seen. Take care of yourself, but when you have a little attention to spare, spend it. You are holding something valuable.
A strict old nun did that for a young teacher who once couldn't stand her. It changed the course of my life.
So this week, put on the HAT. Pick one person and offer at least one of the three. You may never see how far it goes.
Dr. Sam Kurien



