The meaning of ownership
It is now more than twelve years since I stepped away from my techno-managerial career to pursue passions I had long postponed. It had been a professional journey of three decades, one that taught me many lessons which continue to shape the way I look at the world.
During my early years, I believed that I could accomplish much single-handedly. Fortunately for me, I soon realised the folly of that thinking. No individual is an island of excellence. Leading large teams meant learning that success comes from helping others take responsibility for their work.
Like many of my contemporaries, I often lamented what we saw as the erosion of ownership among younger professionals. Others, however, challenged that assumption. I still remember a senior colleague from my early years in Railways who had risen through the ranks. He would often remark that many of us in leadership had, in fact, contributed to this decline. During his years as a supervisor, he and his colleagues considered it a reflection on their own capabilities if a senior officer even felt the need to visit the site during a service disruption.
I did not recognise it then, but that lesson had quietly taken root, influencing many decisions I would make in the years that followed. A young engineer working with me had made an error in his calculations, costing us an important contract. I had two choices. I could reprimand him, or I could ask him to learn from the mistake and move on.
I chose the latter. A friend later remarked that I had allowed the young engineer to retain his confidence while accepting responsibility. A sense of ownership evolves when people are encouraged to accept the consequences of their decisions without fear of blame.
The years since have made me more observant of both people and myself. I no longer complain that people lack ownership. What concerns me today is that we may have changed the very meaning of the word. I find people spitting on roads and even on our society lawns. I recall a gentleman who felt my wife had overstepped her boundaries by suggesting that he carry a cloth bag from home instead of demanding a plastic bag from the neighbourhood shop.
I also encounter residents who believe that living in a society for many years gives them the right to occupy common spaces with their household belongings. Each incident appears trivial in isolation. Together, they reveal how the meaning of ownership itself has begun to change.
Looking back, I realise that ownership meant something very different during my professional life. It meant accepting responsibility for one’s actions and understanding how they affected the larger ecosystem. Ownership was measured by the willingness to ask, “How will my decision affect everyone else?”
Today, I feel we have replaced that understanding. Ownership is increasingly interpreted as entitlement-the right to conveniences, facilities, and privileges-without an equally strong sense of responsibility for how our actions affect those around us.
This quiet shift is no longer merely one of civic sense or courtesy. It is a deeper misunderstanding of what ownership truly means. Whether it is an organisation, a residential community, or the planet itself, every ecosystem flourishes only when people accept ownership of their responsibilities rather than merely assert their entitlements.
Perhaps it is never too late to rediscover that ownership begins not with what we claim as ours, but with what we willingly accept as our responsibility.
The writer is a founder of Kala - Krazy About Literature And Arts, is an author, speaker, coach, arbitrator, and strategy consultant; Views presented are personal.
