Service Without the Self-Sacrifice
The Costs of Glamorizing Self-Sacrifice
Many years ago, I was leading 150 cavalry troopers in a 96-hour military exercise. I had absorbed all the leadership ideas that glamorize selfless service, so I insisted on eating last and staying awake the entire time. Invariably, battles would break out, so I missed most meals. As the exercise ended, I passed out from exhaustion for 18 hours. I woke up to find people waiting for me to tell them what to do. [See Break the Bottleneck].
A part of me recognized that this was unsustainable. Something had to change. But how could I be a selfless leader in any other way?
Another part of me wondered, “Maybe you’re not cut out for this. Maybe you don’t have what it takes to lead. Maybe you’re just not enough.”
Pain and Perspective
I was stressed out, burned out, and beating myself up. Wash, rinse, repeat. I considered leaving the Army altogether. I wondered: was opting out the right takeaway?
I asked one of my mentors, Doug. He listened carefully and asked, “What does selfless service mean to you?”
“You put everyone’s needs before your own.”
“How well is that working for you? What’s the cost of self-sacrifice?”
“I’m always exhausted. I get frustrated more easily, and I snap more often. I’m starting to resent the Army’s unreasonable demands. I feel like I’m not good enough or strong enough to lead, even though I know I have the skills for it.”
“What would service without self-sacrifice look like?”
“I guess it would be like the safety message about oxygen masks on an airplane; put on your mask before helping others.”
“What would that do for you?”
“I could serve better and longer.”
Leaders learn through pain and perspective. The pain comes from experience — there’s good pain and bad pain — but you risk drawing the wrong conclusions.
Perspective comes from mentors and advisors who help you see issues from a different vantage point.
Keeping the Cup Full
Doug helped me see that glamorizing self-sacrifice, whether in the Army’s value of “selfless service” or the notion of servant leadership, was counterproductive. I had accepted a damaging, untrue storyline. It was unhealthy for me and those I served, and it set a poor example for aspiring leaders.
Of course, there are circumstances when you sacrifice yourself for your people and the common good, but those are the extremes. You cannot pour from an empty cup. I learned—and am still learning—how to recognize the signals of depletion and give myself permission to recharge.
Disidentifying leadership from self-sacrifice was transformative for me. Just as you cannot see the label from inside the jar, I couldn’t see the costs of entangling these two ideas until Doug helped me reframe.
That’s the value of having mentors and advisors like Doug. It’s not about fixing weaknesses, but providing perspective so you continuously evolve as a leader.


