Good Leader / Bad Leader – Martyn Jones

By Stephanie Charming, Madrid, Tuesday 3rd March 2026

Leadership

In the annals of leadership literature, few works pierce the fog of modern managerial sophistry with the precision of a well-aimed bayonet charge. Martyn Jones’s Good Leader/Bad Leader: The Difference and Why It Matters stands as a clarion call to arms, a treatise that dissects the anatomy of command with the surgical acuity of Sun Tzu and the unflinching moral rigour of Marcus Aurelius. As a veteran strategist in the digital trenches, once hailed as one of the world’s top database minds, Jones draws not from ivory-tower abstractions but from the bloodied fields of corporate and public service battles. His book is no mere manual; it is a manifesto for the embattled leader, a compass for navigating the treacherous terrains of human ambition and institutional decay.

Echoing the timeless wisdom of The Art of War, Jones begins by mapping the battlefield: the eternal dichotomy of Good and Bad. “In the real world,” he declares, “there is Good. And there is Bad.” This is no philosophical dalliance; it is a strategic imperative. Good leaders, in Jones’s lexicon, are the hidden treasures, the pillars of decency who reject evil in all its forms, empowering allies, fostering trust, and delivering with the steadfastness of a Roman legion. Bad leaders, conversely, are vampires in the attic, self-serving charlatans who embrace the dark side of power, sowing resentment and mistrust like weeds in a fertile garden. Drawing from exemplars such as Nelson Mandela, Angela Merkel, and Jürgen Klopp, Jones illustrates how true commanders inspire not through coercion but through integrity, much as Churchill rallied a nation with unyielding resolve amid the Blitz.

The book’s structure mirrors a well-orchestrated campaign, advancing from reconnaissance to decisive engagement. Early chapters, such as “Bad Leadership,” lay bare the enemy’s vulnerabilities: lack of integrity, manipulative deception, and egoistic exploitation. Jones catalogues these antipatterns with the forensic detail of a military debrief, warning of their corrosive effects, eroded morale, fractured alliances, and inevitable defeat. “Bad leaders are liars, cheats, and cowardly blame-shifters,” he thunders, evoking Machiavelli’s caution against princes who forsake virtue for vice. Yet Jones tempers this critique with hope, transitioning to the offensive in sections like “Lead Like You Mean It” and “The Inner Game of Leadership.” Here, he prescribes the armoury of excellence: non-violent communication, humility, and the “amazing power of ‘Why?'” These are not platitudes but tactical doctrines, akin to Clausewitz’s emphasis on friction and fog in war; leaders must question conventional wisdom, simplify complexities, and learn from every skirmish.

Jones’s prose, laced with Welsh proverbs and rabbinical insights, carries the gravitas of a field marshal’s dispatch. “Gwna dda dros ddrwg, uffern ni’th ddwg,” he invokes, “Repay evil with good, and hell won’t claim you.” This fusion of ancient lore with modern anecdotes from his tenure at Adidas, Oracle, and the United Nations elevates the text beyond didacticism. It becomes a personal odyssey, much like Xenophon’s Anabasis, where the author reflects on his own “littered with errors” learning journeys. In “Personal Learning Journeys,” Jones confesses his preference for leading over being led, not out of vanity but from a servant’s ethos: “Serving and leading are not contradictions.” This vulnerability humanises the strategist, reminding us, as Patton might, that great generals are forged in the crucible of failure.

Particularly resonant for the military-minded reader is Jones’s assault on the pitfalls of the digital age in “Leaders, Leadership and Digital.” He exposes the “sharks, crocodiles, and venomous snakes” of IT fraud, over-billing, vendor lock-in, and collusion as insidious threats to operational integrity. “Don’t be suckered,” he admonishes, channelling Eisenhower’s vigilance against the military-industrial complex. Leaders must know their teams’ loyalties, interrogate motives, and fortify against internal saboteurs. This chapter alone justifies the book’s place on the shelves of any command post, civil or military.

Jones’s “41 Shots of Great Leadership” and “Twenty Questions” serve as rapid-fire volleys of wisdom, distilling principles into actionable intelligence. From motivating individuals over teams to embracing a “can-do” attitude tempered by realism, these distillations recall Drucker’s insistence on results through people. Yet Jones transcends management theory; he champions emotional intelligence, respect, and fun as force multipliers. “Leadership and fun are more connected than many people realise,” he notes, advocating for morale-boosting manoeuvres that bind troops in camaraderie.

If there is a minor flank exposed, it is the book’s occasional truncation in the provided manuscript, hinting at deeper dives curtailed. But this does not diminish its impact; rather, it invites the reader to engage actively, as Jones urges lifelong learning. In conclusion, he invokes the Welsh adage “A fo ben, bid bont”-“To be a leader, be a bridge”; encapsulating leadership as connection, not domination.

In an era besieged by grifters and hype, Good Leader/Bad Leader is a triumphant rout of mediocrity. Martyn Jones, the reluctant guru of data and decency, has crafted a work that would earn nods from history’s finest: from Alexander’s audacity to Lincoln’s empathy. For aspiring captains of industry or guardians of the realm, this book is indispensable ammunition. Read it, internalise it, and lead, not as a tyrant, but as a bridge to victory.