Screwing up when the stakes are high
A few months ago, I gave a talk to leaders in the Emergency Medical Services industry.
The topic?
Permission To Screw Up.
In an industry where the stakes are incredibly high—these people are the first to respond in a crisis, and their actions could make the difference between life and death—screwing up was an interesting topic choice.
Typically, I work with people in industries where making a mistake is nowhere near as consequential. But for this group, it is. And that’s why I was actually really happy that they chose this topic for the keynote. Even though their jobs come with a level of responsibility that I cannot personally fathom, at the end of the day, they are human beings, and screwing up comes with the territory. I was hired to teach this group how to give themselves more grace, how not to be so hard on themselves when mistakes happen, and most of all, to empower them to give themselves permission to be human.
I was honored to be able to have this conversation with them. But knowing how to have the conversation? That was really hard.
I wrote about the experience of preparing for and giving this keynote on social media, and it really resonated with people, so I wanted to go a little bit more in-depth here:
My speech was part of a larger event, so I decided to join early and listen in on the sessions that came before mine and meet members of the audience. I wanted to understand more about their roles, their perspectives, and the challenges they face.
As I sat there soaking it all in, I just kept thinking about how every time these people meet someone in their line of work, chances are it's the worst day that that person has experienced so far. Can you imagine that being your day-to-day experience? The pressure has got to be immense.
No matter how much I want to relate to that, I can’t. My job is not like that. I don’t know what it’s like to hold that much responsibility or pressure in my hands, and there was no way I could point to a single experience in my life that would even come close to their average day. So instead, I thought about what I could relate to, and that is my experience of sharing a life with my husband, Spiros, who is a surgeon.
Before I move on, I want you to know that I asked Spiros if I could share the following with you. He graciously said yes.
Spiros and I have been together for more than 10 years, and in that time, I have watched him go through so much in his life and his career. Spiros is a neurosurgeon who specializes in strokes and aneurysms. He is also the director of the residency program, where he is responsible for the training and development of neurosurgery residents.
As I sat in the audience of the EMS conference, I thought about Spiros’ worst days at work, which happen when something doesn’t go as planned in the operating room. On the very worst days, someone loses their life, and Spiros has to share that news with their loved ones. Those days are crushing. I can tell from the moment he gets home if it’s been one of those days. There is nothing I can say or do to help aside from telling him that I love him and I’m there for him if he wants to talk about it.
One day, I asked Spiros how he processes and handles it internally when things don’t go well. I will never forget what he told me: He said that he focuses on the fact that he didn’t do this to the person; he was there to try to help. Every day, he shows up and does the best he can with what he knows at the time, but even when he does his best, there can still be complications, and the outcome won’t be what he was hoping for.
He shared that the hardest moments as a surgeon are when you make a mistake that has a catastrophic outcome. Even when the mistake is outside of his control, it still feels terrible. But every single surgery is a risk. There’s always a chance of complications or mistakes. He told me that the important thing is that when something doesn’t go well, you have to talk about it and learn from it so that you can reduce the risk of it happening again.
The same is true for his residents. Their residency program has built a culture where they can talk openly about mistakes, which they frame as learning opportunities. They have a weekly conference where everyone shares what they've learned from different cases to prevent the same complications and mistakes from happening again.
I thought about Spiros’ words as I sat in the audience, and I realized that those were the words I wanted to share on the stage.
I talked about Spiros’ perspective and what I’ve learned from him, and I paired it with a message that applies to all human beings, no matter what your job or role is: No one wakes up and says, “I want to screw up today.” Even with the best intentions, mistakes are going to happen. To pretend otherwise is to ignore our humanity. Even when the stakes are high, at the end of the day, you are human. It’s so important to give ourselves grace and find peace in the fact that we show up every day trying to do the best we can.
And just like Spiros said, when we make mistakes, it’s our responsibility to learn from them. We have to let ourselves feel through the pain of making a mistake, and then, we’ve got to be able to pick ourselves back up and figure out how we will do it differently next time. We have to talk about failure, not be ashamed of it. That’s the only way we can move forward.
No one is perfect. No one is immune from mistakes. Every single one of us has the permission to screw up.
Thanks for reading this post. What stood out to you most? What came up for you as you were reading it? I’d love to know. Hit “reply” and tell me more.
Big hugs,
