Last time, I wrote about fatigue and how it impacts perception and decision making. I started thinking about what this actually looks like in real life, and a few moments from my own experience immediately came to mind.
Like all of you, there are many times when I have pushed myself (or have been pushed) beyond the breaking point. Two distinct events come to mind.
The first happened when I was a student at the Infantry Officer Course. We had been up for a long time, under heavy physical and mental stress, and headed out into the woods on a pitch-black night for a patrolling exercise. Every time we stopped to get our bearings or take a quick break it was tough to stay focused.
At one point, as clearly as I am seeing the text in this document, I saw the cartoon character Tweety Bird hop from tree limb to tree limb in front of me. Bright neon yellow against an otherwise midnight black background. I knew I was seeing things but couldn’t look away.
I had no idea Tweety Bird lived in Virginia.
The second time was during an overseas deployment. We were in the boats headed back to the ship after a very long exercise. I was sleep deprived and had been under a lot of pressure for a few days.
As we were getting close to finishing the transit, I happened to look to the side and suddenly saw a car drive past our boat formation (yes, in the ocean). I saw the road it was driving on, light poles, and lane markers before it dropped below the surface.
I started to say to the guy next to me, “did you see that?” before catching myself.
Stuff like that happens when humans (including leaders!) are pushed beyond their limits. In retrospect it can be funny but there is a darker side.
It’s not just seeing things but rather not even knowing you’re impaired while still making decisions that impact others.
And that, for leaders and the teams they lead, carries real risk.
When I was a young lieutenant, I worked for a man who prided himself on never showing any sort of weakness. That included his ability to always be on regardless of the circumstances.
The reality is all of that bravado and toughness was a figment of his imagination. No one believed it except for him.
One of the more glaring examples came during an intense three-day tactical exercise, which included some night operations. He refused to sleep, even for an hour, despite all of us telling him we’d handle things while he was down. He frowned on sleeping because (I guess) it showed weakness.
In that environment you have rest plans. A few hours here, a few hours there. If the situation was stable, you had the requisite security set up so that your teammates could recover and be ready to go when called upon. Common sense stuff.
Not for this guy.
I don’t know if he snuck a nap in at any point, but I can tell you that on the morning of day three he was out of it. He was briefing us on our next plan and nothing he said made sense and his language was almost unintelligible. We had to stitch a plan together because his was incoherent.
Contrast that with another leader I observed for several months during a deployment.
He was the US Navy Captain in charge of the ship we were embarked upon. He had infinitely more responsibilities than the first guy I described and didn’t need to impress anyone. Bravado and toughness? Absolutely. But the kind that needed no introduction or fanfare.
Before we set sail we were told that during daylight hours we were to steer clear of the section of the ship where his stateroom was located. Barring an all-hands emergency, he was not to be disturbed.
Why? He was sleeping.
He was on an opposite sleep schedule. I had the chance to talk to him one night when he walked into our berthing space to check on the air flow coming out of the vents. (You read that right. The captain of the ship was wearing coveralls and carrying an assortment of tools checking on the air flow while we were transiting a hot and humid part of the globe).
I asked him why he had a reverse sleep schedule. He said, “Lieutenant, the most dangerous time aboard ship is at night. I need to be available and alert in order to make the best decisions during that time. I get my sleep during the afternoon when my Executive Officer and staff run the ship.”
I will never forget that. Here was a seasoned leader clearly aware of himself and his job responsibilities who set boundaries around what was most important, thought of rest as a strategic issue, and therefore maintained clear reasoning about everything he did.
Here’s the lesson: What some leaders call toughness is actually unmanaged impairment.
What they might view as a strength is actually a liability.
Where might you be confusing endurance with effectiveness? Who pays the price when you push past clarity?
If this reflection was helpful, feel free to forward it to another leader who might appreciate it.
If something in this reflection stirred questions or feels close to where you are right now, you're welcome to book a Leadership Strategy Call - a calm, pressure-free conversation designed to help you gain clarity and a next step.
Dan
Founder, Leader First Coaching