The still point: Finding balance in governance

By Nqobani Mzizi

Governance is often a dance between movement and stillness. Decisions, debates and deadlines create a rhythm that can easily overwhelm the deeper discipline of reflection. Yet, within that motion, there must exist what the poets have called a "still point"; a centre of clarity where judgment is not rushed by noise and perspective is not lost to pace. The most effective boards learn to find this balance. They move with purpose but pause with intention.

Balance in governance is not neutrality. It is the wisdom to act without haste, to lead without domination and to decide without losing sight of principle. The modern board operates in constant tension between risk and opportunity, regulation and innovation, duty and empathy. These tensions are not flaws in the system; they are its pulse. Governance falters not because tension exists, but because balance is lost.

When equilibrium disappears, leadership becomes reactive. Some boards respond to crisis with overcontrol, mistaking rigidity for discipline. Others swing to the opposite extreme, avoiding difficult decisions under the guise of prudence. Both approaches betray the same imbalance: the absence of calm conviction. To the skeptic, this might seem like a plea for indecision. It is not. The still point is not a haven for the passive; it is the source of clarity for the courageous. True governance requires neither haste nor hesitation, but the courage to stand still long enough to see clearly.

The still point is not the absence of movement. It is the space within it. It is found in the measured silence before a vote is cast, in the listening that precedes a decisive question, in the thoughtful pause that separates reaction from response. King IV speaks to this balance in its fourth principle, reminding governing bodies to steer performance and strategy with awareness of their ethical, social and environmental impact. Balance, then, is not a passive state. It is active stewardship.

Boards that operate from the still point understand that wisdom rarely shouts. They recognise that true influence is steady, not forceful. In such spaces, the chair’s role becomes that of a conductor, guiding rhythm without overpowering melody. The most skilled chairs create a culture where strong voices coexist without silencing others, where urgency does not erase understanding and where difference is seen as a source of depth rather than division.

Balance also has a human face. It is visible in directors who listen without defensiveness, who can hold competing truths without anxiety, and who resist the pressure to appear certain when the situation demands humility. This is the quiet power that defines the most influential directors: the courage to be the source of calm, not the echo of reactivity; to use a measured tone not for lack of conviction, but to ensure it is truly heard. In governance, composure is not weakness. It is mastery.

Institutions that embody balance tend to endure. The Reserve Bank of South Africa, for instance, has long been admired for its ability to remain principled and steady in times of economic and political volatility. Its governance reflects restraint and foresight, qualities that keep systems stable when storms gather.

On the corporate side, Mteto Nyati, the current board chairperson of Eskom, offers a powerful contemporary example. His leadership has been marked by composure, clarity and collaboration; qualities that have begun to restore public confidence in an institution once defined by crisis. Under his guidance, the board has reintroduced a culture of accountability and calm deliberation, focusing on performance without losing sight of purpose. Working closely with the Minister of Electricity, Dr. Kgosientsho Ramokgopa, he has exemplified how governance rooted in discipline and mutual respect can rebuild credibility from the ground up.

His quiet yet firm approach has demonstrated that balance between oversight and empowerment, between firmness and fairness, can turn even the most turbulent institutions toward recovery. In this, Eskom’s story is becoming not just one of operational repair, but of governance renewal. It's a testament to what steady leadership can achieve when anchored in principle rather than pressure.

History also reminds us that balance is a moral strength. Nelson Mandela embodied this principle in leadership. He was neither passive nor vengeful, neither rigid nor permissive. His governance of self and nation rested on the capacity to hold contrasts in harmony: justice with forgiveness, firmness with empathy, patience with progress.

Mandela showed that balance is not about the absence of passion, but the presence of discipline. He led from conviction without losing compassion, proving that equilibrium is as much an ethical quality as it is a strategic one. His legacy teaches that the most enduring forms of power are measured, not militant.

Such balance cannot be legislated. It must be cultivated. Policies may structure behaviour, but they cannot create composure. That comes from emotional intelligence and moral maturity, from people who understand that governance is as much about temperament as it is about technical skill. The unbalanced mind cannot govern wisely.

Balance, in this sense, is an act of mindfulness. It asks leaders to slow down just enough to think clearly, to resist the illusion that speed equals efficiency and to remember that measured judgment is what gives governance its dignity. It is the equilibrium between action and reflection, control and trust, authority and humility.

Boards might find wisdom in pausing to reflect on questions such as:

• Do we create time for reflection, or only for decisions?
• Are our debates guided by rhythm or by reaction?
• Do we hold space for stillness before we move to strategy?
• Where, in our governance culture, does balance live?

The future of governance will depend not on how fast boards can act, but on how wisely they can wait. Balance does not mean inaction. It means presence: a calm confidence that allows complexity to unfold without fear. Governance at its best is not frantic but focused, not loud but listening, not rigid but rooted.

The still point in governance is where integrity resides. It is where clarity, courage and compassion meet. It is the place from which all wise action flows.

In a time when many equate leadership with dominance, the call for balance feels almost radical. Yet, it is precisely this quiet strength that restores dignity to governance. The world does not need louder leaders; it needs steadier ones. Boards that can remain still in the storm will find that this still point, so sought after in art and philosophy, is not only their strength, but their legacy.

* Nqobani Mzizi is a Professional Accountant (SA), Cert.Dir (IoDSA) and an Academic.

** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media.

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