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Leadership

What 30 Years in the C-Suite Taught Me About Leadership

The lessons that shaped my career weren't taught in business school. They came from failed programs, difficult bosses, and the moments when I had to decide who I wanted to be as a leader.

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Peter R. Hitschler
••7 min read
What 30 Years in the C-Suite Taught Me About Leadership

I didn't set out to become an executive. I set out to do good work.

That distinction matters more than it sounds. The leaders I've watched derail over the years — and I've watched many — were almost always the ones who were chasing the title rather than the mission. They optimized for visibility instead of impact. They managed up instead of leading down. And eventually, the organizations they led reflected exactly that.

What follows are the lessons that shaped my own career. Not the ones from business school — I didn't go to one. These came from thirty years of operational leadership across defense shipbuilding, precision manufacturing, aerospace, and strategic consulting. From programs that failed. From bosses who were wrong. From moments when I had to decide, under pressure, who I actually wanted to be.

The First Lesson: Competence Is the Foundation, Not the Ceiling

Early in my career, I believed that technical competence was the primary currency of leadership. If you knew the work better than anyone else, you earned the right to lead it.

That's partially true — and dangerously incomplete.

Competence earns you credibility. It earns you the right to be heard. But it doesn't earn you followership. People don't follow the most technically capable person in the room. They follow the person who makes them feel seen, challenged, and part of something worth doing.

I learned this the hard way managing my first large team. I was the most experienced person in the group by a significant margin. I knew exactly what needed to be done and how to do it. And I proceeded to tell everyone, in detail, exactly that.

The results were mediocre. The team was competent but disengaged. They were executing my plan, not their own. The moment I understood that my job was to create the conditions for their best work — not to be the source of all answers — the results changed dramatically.

Competence is the floor. Leadership is what you build above it.

The Second Lesson: Your Reputation Is Built in the Hard Moments

In thirty years, I've observed that most people perform reasonably well when conditions are favorable. The real differentiation happens under pressure — when the program is behind schedule, when the budget has been cut, when the customer is angry, when the team is demoralized.

How you behave in those moments is your actual leadership character. Everything else is performance.

I've seen executives who were polished and impressive in normal conditions become unrecognizable under stress — blaming their teams, hiding from accountability, making decisions driven by self-protection rather than organizational interest. Their reputations never fully recovered.

I've also seen leaders who were unremarkable in calm conditions become extraordinary under pressure — calm, clear, honest about the situation, focused on solutions rather than blame. Those are the people organizations remember and promote.

The practical implication: pay attention to how you behave when it costs you something. That's when your character is actually being revealed — to yourself and to everyone watching.

The Third Lesson: Hire for Character, Develop for Skill

I've made every hiring mistake there is to make. I've hired brilliant people who were corrosive to team culture. I've hired technically perfect candidates who couldn't communicate, couldn't collaborate, and couldn't adapt when conditions changed.

The pattern I eventually recognized: skills are teachable. Character is not — or at least, not by a manager in a professional context.

When I shifted my hiring criteria to weight character heavily — intellectual honesty, accountability, genuine curiosity, the ability to disagree respectfully — the quality of my teams improved substantially. Not because I stopped caring about technical capability, but because I stopped treating it as the primary filter.

The question I now ask in every hiring conversation: how does this person handle being wrong? The answer tells me more about their long-term potential than any technical assessment.

The Fourth Lesson: The Feedback You Avoid Is the Feedback You Need

Most organizations are terrible at honest feedback. The reasons are understandable — feedback is uncomfortable to give, uncomfortable to receive, and the short-term cost of a difficult conversation often feels higher than the long-term cost of avoiding it.

The result is leaders who are operating on incomplete information about their own performance. They're making decisions based on a version of reality that their teams have quietly edited to avoid conflict.

I've been on both sides of this. Early in my career, I had a mentor who told me, directly and without softening, that I was the smartest person in most rooms I entered and that I was making sure everyone knew it. He told me this was limiting my effectiveness and would eventually limit my career.

It was uncomfortable to hear. It was also completely accurate. And it changed how I operated.

Seek out the feedback that makes you uncomfortable. Create the conditions where your team can tell you things you don't want to hear. The leaders who do this consistently are the ones who keep growing. The ones who don't eventually stop.

The Fifth Lesson: Decisions Are Made With Incomplete Information

One of the most paralyzing beliefs I've seen in developing leaders is the idea that good decisions require complete information. They don't. They never will.

In operational environments — defense programs, manufacturing operations, complex supply chains — you are almost always making consequential decisions with 60 to 70 percent of the information you'd ideally want. Waiting for the remaining 30 percent is itself a decision, and usually a poor one.

The discipline I developed over time: define the minimum information threshold required to make a defensible decision, gather that information efficiently, decide, and move. Then build in checkpoints to adjust as new information arrives.

This isn't recklessness. It's recognizing that in dynamic environments, the cost of delay is real and often exceeds the cost of an imperfect decision made promptly.

The leaders who are most effective under uncertainty are not the ones who are most comfortable with risk. They're the ones who have developed a rigorous process for making decisions with incomplete information — and the discipline to commit to those decisions while remaining genuinely open to revision.

The Sixth Lesson: The Work Is Never Just the Work

Every operational challenge I've encountered in thirty years has had a human dimension that was at least as important as the technical one.

A supply chain crisis is also a team confidence crisis. A program delay is also a customer relationship crisis. A budget cut is also a morale crisis. Leaders who address only the technical dimension of these situations consistently underperform those who address both.

This doesn't mean prioritizing feelings over results. It means recognizing that results are produced by people, and that people's capacity to produce results is significantly affected by how they're led.

The most effective leaders I've worked with or observed share a common characteristic: they are genuinely interested in the people they lead. Not performatively interested — actually curious about what their teams are experiencing, what's getting in their way, what they need to do their best work.

That genuine interest is not a soft skill. It is a performance multiplier.

What I'd Tell My Younger Self

If I could go back and give one piece of advice to the version of myself starting out in operations leadership, it would be this:

The career you want is a byproduct of the leader you become. Focus relentlessly on becoming better — more honest, more curious, more accountable, more effective at developing others — and the career takes care of itself.

The leaders who spend their energy managing their careers tend to have mediocre ones. The leaders who spend their energy becoming genuinely excellent tend to have remarkable ones.

That's not a guarantee. But in thirty years, it's the closest thing to a reliable pattern I've found.

Explore Topics

#leadership#career#executive development#mentorship#operations
Peter R. Hitschler

About the author

Peter R. Hitschler

Executive advisor, board member, and author with 30+ years of leadership across defense, precision manufacturing, and industrial consulting. Author of the six-book Harbinger Series.

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