The Hidden Cost of Pushing Through
Early in my career, I built a reputation for pushing through almost anything. I broke sales records. Then I broke my own records the following year.
Trained as a classical pianist, I would leave my day job and race home against Toronto traffic, often in a vain attempt to beat my first student of the evening to the front door. After teaching concluded, I would meal prep for the next day and fall into bed just in time for my morning alarm to remind me to hit the gym.
I believed competence could overcome almost anything. Hard work was the key to maximizing success. I was competitive with myself to a fault.
Anything I could do, I believed I could do better.
At the time, I assumed this was simply what strong performance looked like.
It took years before I learned — the hard way — that this relentless pace comes at a cost. It took even longer to recognize the hidden cost high performers create for the organizations and teams around them.
High performers are easy to spot. Driven in their pursuit of overachievement, they learn early to push through friction, solve problems individually, and push themselves harder than any performance metric requires.
Managers recognize them quickly. The ones who work around broken processes, avoid escalating issues unless absolutely necessary, and are often already finished with what you are about to ask them to do.
When things slow down, these individuals speed up. And if there’s a metaphorical fire, they are the ones running toward it, determined to put it out themselves.
As an individual contributor, I was so focused on my own goals that I failed to see the bigger picture.
As a leader, I began to see the cost of this kind of performance — one that extends well beyond what any one person is capable of carrying.
High performers unknowingly prop up broken systems. Inefficient processes, missing information, and unclear ownership take longer to surface when a highly capable operator is quietly pulling double duty to keep the ship afloat.
When high performers become leaders, the impact expands. Their standards no longer remain personal — they become the invisible baseline others assume they are expected to meet.
Over time, I began to notice a second consequence of the high performer mindset.
The more capable the people in an organization are, the longer broken systems are allowed to survive.
Leaders rarely set expectations only through words. They set them through behavior.
And when high-performance behavior becomes the baseline of a team, it quietly raises the bar beyond what most roles were designed to sustain.
Not everyone who joins a team signs up for the implicit standards set by a relentlessly high-performing leader.
Normalizing high output that masks broken systems should not become the norm. Leaders — even high-performing ones — have a responsibility to allow the system, cracks and all, to breathe alongside the teams propping it up.
Hold the system accountable, not unrealistic performance standards.
Systems only improve when friction becomes visible. As long as capable people continue absorbing that friction, organizations risk never actually seeing the problem — and losing key performers along the way.
Leadership is responsible for improving the systems that drive results: processes, people, and outcomes.
But when improvement first requires the system to strain enough to reveal its cracks, it demands something counterintuitive from leaders.
Restraint.
In practice, this looks like the discipline not to push through every obstacle, and the willingness to let friction surface long enough for the system to reveal what needs fixing.
During that period of friction, patience, confidence, and a tolerance for uncertainty become essential.
High performance at the leadership level is not relentless productivity.
It is demonstrated through observation, discernment, and the judgment to know when the system — not the people — needs to change.