Authentic Enthusiasm is a Leadership Asset

On the nurse shark, the whale watch microphone, and why suppressing genuine excitement undermines your team

My first internship in college was for a whale watch company. I was a naturalist in training — learning marine biology, helping passengers, supporting the boat operations. The first time I saw a pod of dolphins from that boat, I lit up. The first time a humpback whale breached close to us, I was beside myself. The first time I spotted a basking shark, I couldn't contain my excitement.

My boss didn't tell me to tone it down.

She didn't say "be professional." She didn't roll her eyes at the new intern getting excited about animals she'd seen a thousand times. She encouraged my outward enthusiasm. She appreciated it.

I didn't realize at the time how significant that was. But it shaped who I became.

Why Enthusiasm Gets Suppressed

In a lot of workplaces, authentic enthusiasm is treated as something to manage. Tone it down. Be measured. Don't get too excited. Stay professional.

There are real reasons for this. Some workplaces have legitimate concerns about decorum. Some industries have client-facing expectations. Some leaders worry that an over-enthusiastic team member will be seen as unserious. Some are responding to their own discomfort with emotional expression. Some learned to flatten themselves at work and assume everyone else should too.

But here's what those leaders are missing: authentic enthusiasm isn't the opposite of professionalism. It's one of the most powerful assets you can have on your team.

A Different Story, Same Lesson

Years later, while working my first job post-college in the Florida Keys. I jumped into the warm, Florida ocean for the first time at a particular site, and a nurse shark swam directly between my legs.

I started screaming with pure joy. Let's just say a few expletives may have come out!

My boss on that trip said something I've never forgotten. He said he appreciated the enthusiasm... just not the language.

That single line is a leadership masterclass. He didn't crush the joy. He celebrated the enthusiasm. And he gave me appropriate feedback on the language. Both things at once. Because both mattered.

He could have made me feel embarrassed. He could have lectured me about appropriate professional conduct. He could have made the moment about my failure rather than about the shark. He did none of those things. He found a way to honor what was real and authentic about my reaction while still giving me the small correction that the situation required.

That's the kind of leadership that builds people.

Why Authentic Enthusiasm Matters

When leaders make space for genuine enthusiasm — instead of trying to flatten it — several things happen that good leadership programs rarely talk about:

Authentic enthusiasm makes science accessible.

A naturalist whose excitement is real gets passengers excited about marine life. That's the whole point of the work. A researcher who lights up while describing their findings communicates them more effectively. An educator whose passion is visible draws students in. Enthusiasm is contagious in a way that performed professionalism never is.

Suppressing authentic reactions kills inspiration.

If you're constantly performing a flattened, controlled version of yourself, you have less energy left for the actual work. The performance is itself exhausting. People who can show up authentically at work bring more of themselves to the work. People who can't, slowly drain.

Helping people find who they are is foundational.

My whale watch boss didn't just let me be excited. She helped me discover that my enthusiasm was a strength, not something to manage. That recognition shaped my career. I became a public speaker. I built a career around science communication. I learned that the version of me that gets unguardedly excited about marine life is also the version of me that's effective at this work.

If she had told me to tone it down, I might have learned a different lesson — that the real me wasn't welcome, that I had to perform a more controlled version of myself to belong here. That lesson would have made me worse at the work, not better.

You can guide behavior without crushing spirit.

This is the genius of my Florida Keys boss's response. "I appreciate the enthusiasm... just not the language." Two things at once. Celebrating what was authentic. Correcting what needed correcting. Most leaders feel like they have to choose. The best leaders refuse the false choice and do both.

What This Means for Leaders

If you're in a position of leadership, here are a few practices worth considering:

Notice when your team lights up.

When does someone get genuinely excited? About what kind of work? About which kinds of problems? Pay attention. Those moments tell you something important about who they are and what they're capable of becoming. Honor them.

Don't shame people for genuine reactions.

Even when their reactions feel "too much." Even when you wouldn't react the same way yourself. Even when the timing is awkward. The cost of shaming is permanent. The benefit is illusory.

Celebrate first-time experiences.

A team member's first conference. First publication. First field deployment. First successful experiment. First time presenting their work. These are moments where authentic enthusiasm naturally surfaces. Meet it with your own. Don't treat their excitement as evidence of inexperience to be tolerated.

Correct behavior without crushing spirit.

When you do need to give corrective feedback — about language, tone, context, timing — find a way to keep the underlying spirit intact. "Love the energy. Let's think about how to channel it for this audience" is fundamentally different from "Tone it down, this isn't appropriate." Both might result in the same behavior change. Only one preserves the relationship and the person.

Resist the urge to make everyone fit one mold.

Some leaders unconsciously want their team to mirror their own communication style. The team becomes flatter, more controlled, less diverse in expression. The leader feels comfortable. The team loses what made it interesting. Resist this. The best teams contain real differences in temperament and style. Your job isn't to homogenize them. It's to help each person bring their authentic strengths to the work.

If You're the One Who's Been Told to Tone It Down

If you've been on the receiving end of feedback that you're too enthusiastic, too excited, too much — here are some things worth knowing:

Your enthusiasm is probably a strength. It might need some calibration for context — there's a difference between an internal team conversation and a board presentation — but the underlying capacity to get genuinely excited about your work is rare and valuable. Don't flatten yourself trying to fit someone else's idea of professionalism.

Look for environments and leaders who appreciate it. The wrong manager will try to suppress what's most alive in you. The right one will recognize it as the asset it is. Those leaders exist. You deserve to work with them.

Build calibration as a skill. Not suppression — calibration. Different contexts call for different versions of the same authentic energy. Learn to read a room and adjust the intensity without changing the underlying authenticity.

Don't apologize for the energy. Apologize, if needed, for the specific behavior that wasn't appropriate to the context. There's a difference between "I'm sorry I was so excited" and "I shouldn't have used that language in that setting." The first apologizes for who you are. The second takes responsibility for a specific choice. Make the second kind. Never the first.

The Deeper Point

Science needs more, not less, authentic enthusiasm. The work is hard. The path is long. The recognition is sometimes thin. What sustains scientists through years of difficult experiments and stretches of slow progress is, in part, the underlying excitement about the work itself.

Leaders who suppress that excitement in their teams are draining the very fuel that keeps the work moving. Leaders who protect and celebrate it — even when it gets messy, even when the language slips, even when the moment isn't perfectly polished — are doing one of the most important things leaders can do.

They're telling the people on their teams: who you are when you're lit up is welcome here. That message doesn't just shape what you do. It shapes who you become.

I became a science communicator because someone told me my enthusiasm was a strength. That single recognition rerouted my career. Imagine how many redirections happen in the other direction — how many naturally enthusiastic scientists slowly learn to tone themselves down until there's nothing left to suppress.

Don't be that leader. Be the one who, when someone's eyes light up about a nurse shark or a data finding or a beautiful protein structure, says: I appreciate the enthusiasm. (And, if necessary, just not the language.)

— Chris Payne

Founder, Dirigo Science Connection