The Consultant Who Chose the Wrong Sheep

Driving in a beautiful Maserati through Santiago, Chile, during a conversation about consulting and leadership, I was told a joke that perfectly sums up a challenge many organizations face today. It's a story about a sheep farmer, a well-meaning consultant, and the difference between studying a business and genuinely understanding it. I still share it often - because sometimes the simplest stories carry the clearest truths.

Tales From Around the World

Santiago, Chile - A Lesson on Consulting

Some of the most memorable lessons in a career don't come from boardrooms or strategy sessions. They happen unexpectedly, often in conversation, and stay with you long after the moment passes.

One of those moments happened for me in Santiago, Chile.

I was traveling through the city with Sebastián Swett, CEO of Costanera Group and Forus, during what was already a formative period in my career. Santiago is a remarkable place - framed by the Andes, energetic yet grounded - and as we drove through the city, our conversation turned to consultants and the role they play inside organizations.

Sebastián shared a joke with me that day that has stayed with me ever since. It was funny, but more importantly, it captured something deeply true about experience, expertise, and humility in business.

The story goes like this.

A sheep farmer, whose family had worked the same land for four generations, carefully tended a large flock passed down through his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather before him.

One day, a consultant approached him and offered help improving his farming operation.

The farmer was puzzled.

"Why would I need consulting?" he asked. "My family has cared for this land and these sheep for generations. What could you possibly teach me?"

The consultant replied, "Let me spend a few weeks observing your work. If my recommendations are valuable, instead of payment, you can simply give me one sheep from your flock."

The farmer agreed.

For several weeks, the consultant followed the farmer everywhere - observing routines, studying the flock, taking notes, and learning the business. Eventually, he disappeared to prepare his findings and later returned carrying an impressively thick report filled with analysis and recommendations.

Before even reading it, the farmer said, "You've clearly worked hard. Rather than make you wait, go ahead and choose your sheep now as payment."

The consultant walked confidently to the flock, examined the animals carefully, selected one, and proudly brought it back.

The farmer looked at him and said:

"Well… that's my dog."

I've retold this story countless times over the years, particularly when meeting consultants or discussing advisory work.

The lesson isn't that consultants lack value. Quite the opposite. The best advisors bring perspective, pattern recognition, and experience that organizations may not see from inside their own operations.

But the story is a reminder of something important: expertise requires humility. Observation alone does not equal understanding. Real partnership comes from respecting the knowledge already present within an organization.

The most effective consulting relationships I've experienced - whether leading teams or supporting other executives - have always been collaborative. Success comes not from arriving with answers, but from working alongside leaders who already know their business deeply and helping translate insight into action.

Sometimes the role is to define strategy.

Sometimes it's to execute someone else's vision.

And sometimes, it's simply to recognize the difference between the sheep and the dog.