They Know Not to Ask

They know there are certain things you do not ask about.

Lately, more than one leader has told me the toll their work is taking.

One said, with real pride, that he could leave the day at the door. His family was never the wiser. Then, almost as an aside, he added that they also knew not to ask how the day went.

Another described an evening when his child looked up at him and said, "It seems like you didn't have that bad of a day today. I'm glad, Dad. I don't like seeing you stressed."

He thought he was hiding it.

These weren't people struggling in their careers. They were well-respected senior leaders with strong reviews from their superiors and the people they led. By every measure their organizations used, they were succeeding.

We tell ourselves that the smile on our face is hiding the stress.

But the people who love us know better. Children have an innate ability to sense it. Spouses understand to tread lightly. The family that "never knew" learned to stop asking.

The people at home can see it. But the organization doesn't.

Performance reviews measure what you produced. They don't show what it took to do it.

Roles like theirs don't become consuming all at once. They expand around the person who handles them best. Problems go to the leader most trusted to solve them. Exceptional effort becomes expected capacity.

Because the work keeps getting done, the organization sees reliability. Not a strain.

The absence of failure gets mistaken for sustainability.

Senior work will always carry pressure. The problem is work that remains functional only because one person keeps absorbing more.

By the time a leader's performance changes, the cost may have been accumulating for years.

If you lead others: what would your best people tell you if they didn't need to look fine?

If you're the one walking through the door each night: what has your family learned not to ask?