top of page
Search

The Competence Chasm: Why Humility Is the Only Bridge Across Leadership's Deadliest Gap


Every promotion creates a Competence Chasm between your proven skills and the new leadership demands ahead. Humility is the only reliable bridge across it, turning potential failure into lifelong growth.


What Is the Competence Chasm?

The Competence Chasm is the deep, treacherous gap that opens with every promotion—the divide between the technical strengths and task mastery that earned you the role, and the new demands like mentoring, strategic thinking, emotional intelligence, and systems-building that your prior experience hasn't fully equipped you to handle.

Leaders who fail to recognize it plunge headlong into failure, bulldozing teams with impatience or vague directives while blind to the damage. Those who spot it but refuse to cross stagnate at the edge, coasting on past wins and expecting others to "figure it out." Only humility spans it, plank by plank through feedback, learning, and self-awareness—but even after crossing, more chasms await.


Standing at the Edge in Public Works

In my world of public works and government, this plays out constantly. A star operator gets promoted to supervisor. They mastered equipment, crises, and hands-on results. The team respected their skill.

Then the Chasm appears. Leadership now means developing others, not just doing the work yourself. Without humility, they assume past success means they've arrived. Patterns emerge:

  • Impatience with learning curves: "Just figure it out like I did."

  • No mentoring: They do the work themselves instead of teaching.

  • Blind spots to tone: Crews feel intimidation, not guidance.

  • Coasting on title: Expecting respect without earning it anew.

To them, all feels fine. To the team, morale erodes and trust fades.


My Own Walk Across the Chasm

I've lived this personally. Every promotion in my career—from public works roles to consulting roles—hit me with a Competence Chasm I wasn't fully prepared for, no matter the training, degrees, or effort. Moving into a new role meant new gaps in people skills, strategy, or communication I hadn't mastered.

That discomfort was normal and healthy. It meant I saw my weaknesses clearly. Humility let me build the bridge: seeking feedback, asking "What am I missing?", slowing down to mentor. Each crossing stretched me. Those I've seen fail? They believed they'd arrived—denying the Chasm, rejecting input, and stagnating.


Why Imposter Feelings Beat "Arrival" Every Time

I'd take a leader with imposter syndrome over one claiming mastery. Self-doubt proves you see the Chasm. Paired with humility, it fuels growth:

  • Extra preparation and questions.

  • Openness to coaching.

  • Viewing yourself as "becoming," not "arrived."

Overconfident leaders miss it entirely. Uncoachable. Doomed.


We Never Leave the Canyon—And That's the Adventure

You never escape the canyon. Cross one Competence Chasm, and the terrain shifts—bigger teams, tougher stakes, fresh gaps. No final promotion ends the journey.

But here's the beauty: the canyon isn't a prison. The best leaders fall in love with the climb. They savor the scenery—the view from new heights, the camaraderie of shared bridges, the satisfaction of plank-by-plank progress. They keep pushing forward, not because they must, but because they choose to.


Humility isn't a one-time act; it's the lifelong muscle flexed at every edge. It's rejecting "finished" for "always becoming." Expect more Chasms. Welcome the planks of feedback, learning, apology, adjustment.


Leadership's deadliest lie is "I've arrived." The greatest strength is humility—plank by plank, Chasm by Chasm. The best leaders don't conquer the canyon. They learn to love bridging it, forever.


 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page