
Why I Refused to Delegate Travel
For twenty years, I booked every flight, hotel, and rental car myself.
I travel constantly for speaking engagements and client work. Each trip cost me about an hour of searching, comparing, checking, and second-guessing. I knew the process could be delegated. I simply refused to let it go.
The reason had almost nothing to do with travel.
Early in my career, I watched a well-known client get stranded on the tarmac because his executive assistant made a mistake. He missed a major opportunity. He was furious, and he fired her.
She didn’t mean to fail him. Human error found the worst possible moment.
I was young, and the lesson lodged itself in my brain: delegate plenty, but protect your travel. So I did. For two decades.
One bad experience can become a permanent job
Most leaders have their own version of my travel.
Maybe you still pull a report at midnight because someone botched it years ago. You review every invoice because one client was billed incorrectly. You approve every social post because an old mistake embarrassed the company.
The task looks operational. The resistance is emotional.
A single failure quietly rewrites your job description. You become the permanent owner of work that no longer deserves your best hours.
That was me until I started training Henley, my AI executive assistant, to handle routine business travel.
Once a speaking engagement is confirmed, Henley reads the contract. He knows the city, venue, start time, and end time. He searches flights using my preferences. He applies my hotel rules, loyalty numbers, and distance limits. He even schedules my rideshares in advance.
Monica walked into my office one day and saw Henley’s screen moving on its own.
“What is he doing?” she asked.
Booking my Ubers.
I still plan personal travel. Family vacations involve taste, discovery, and moments I want to shape myself. Routine work trips follow a clearer playbook. That distinction matters.
Delegation gets easier when the rules become visible
I didn’t hand Henley a giant manual. I talked him through the work the same way I would brief a human assistant.
I explained the airline I prefer, the departure windows I avoid, how close a hotel should be to the venue, which loyalty programs matter, and when an exception is worth making. Each correction became part of a living skill file that Henley follows every time.
That repeatability changed the risk.
A person can forget a correction made six months ago. A well-built AI teammate can preserve the rule, apply it consistently, and ask for approval whenever the situation falls outside the boundaries.
You still own the judgment. Your AI teammate owns the repeatable process.
Turn your guarded task into a skill
Pick one task you have carried alone for years. Choose something recurring, rules-based, and costly enough to matter, but safe enough to supervise while the system learns.
Then teach it through conversation:
- Explain the outcome. Describe what a successful result looks like and why it matters.
- Name your rules. Share preferences, thresholds, exceptions, and the small details you normally keep in your head.
- Define the approval points. Decide what the AI teammate may complete independently and what still requires your sign-off.
- Watch the first run. Correct the gaps while the work is happening.
- Save every correction. Have the system update its skill file so you never need to teach the same lesson twice.
If the task is easier to demonstrate than explain, record your screen while you do it. Narrate each choice out loud. The recording becomes the raw material for a written playbook your AI teammate can follow.
Start small. Keep the approval gate. Let trust grow from evidence.
Twenty years of resistance didn’t disappear because I became less careful. It disappeared because I finally turned the knowledge in my head into a system that could carry the work with me.
The task you refuse to delegate may be protecting you from an old mistake. It may also be consuming the time you need for your next opportunity.
Which guarded task are you ready to teach?
Want the original issue that inspired this article? Read King’s Keys #29: This Fear Slowed Me Down for 20 Years.
Stop playing life on hard mode. Automate your success.