The
foundational job of a leader is developing people. Here is a practical method
for doing the hardest part of that work.
Article
04 in the Leadership Journey Series
I
want to start with a question that Dylan DuFresne poses in his book The Phantom
Pallet.
When
you stay late and solve problems nobody else can solve, what does that make
you?
The
answer his character Dave eventually arrives at is not what most leaders expect
to hear. It is not indispensable. It is not valuable. It is not a strong
performer.
It
is a single point of failure.
That
reframe stopped me when I read it. Because it describes something I have done.
Something most leaders I know have done. We carry the team because we can.
Because it is faster. Because the standard feels important and we are the only
ones who can reliably meet it. And we tell ourselves that is leadership.
It
is not. It is the promotion trap in its most advanced form. The individual
contributor who got promoted and never stopped being one.
The foundational job
Developing
people is the primary job of a leader. Not the secondary one. Not the one you
get to when the urgent work slows down.
The
primary one.
Everything
else a leader does either supports that job or distracts from it. The problem
is that urgent work is always more visible than developmental work. A crisis
solved feels like progress. A team member who grew this quarter is harder to
point to. So we keep solving crises and telling ourselves we will get to the
development work when things settle down.
Things
do not settle down. The crises keep coming because the team has not developed
the capability to handle them. And the leader keeps carrying the weight because
the team has not been given the framework to carry it themselves.
The
firefighter who is always putting out fires never has time to build the system
that prevents them. That is not a workload problem. It is a leadership identity
problem.
DuFresne
frames this in The Phantom Pallet as the difference between a firefighter and
an architect. The firefighter solves the immediate problem. The architect
builds the system that prevents it. Both roles feel productive. Only one of
them scales.
The problem with expert knowledge
Here
is why making that shift is so hard for people who are genuinely good at their
jobs.
Highly
effective people arrive at solutions intuitively. The steps between recognizing
a problem and arriving at an answer happen internally, invisibly, without
conscious tracking. Years of experience get compressed into what feels like
instinct. And that instinct produces good outcomes consistently enough that
nobody ever asks to see the work.
Until
the leader has to teach someone else to do it.
That
is when the invisible steps become a problem. You cannot teach what you cannot
see. And you cannot see it because you have never had to. The expert skips
steps without realizing it. The learner gets lost without knowing why. The
process documentation that results captures what was done but not why, leaving
the gap between following instructions and applying judgment permanently open.
This
is sometimes called the curse of knowledge. The more deeply you understand
something, the harder it becomes to remember what it felt like not to
understand it. The steps that feel obvious to you are genuinely not obvious to
someone who has not lived them. But you are standing on the other side of the
gap and cannot see it from where you are.
DuFresne
addresses a version of this in The Phantom Pallet when he asks how
organizations capture and transmit expertise that exists only in experienced
practitioners' heads. He calls it tribal knowledge. What is lost when veteran
employees retire or leave without having transferred what they know. His answer
involves building systems that make that knowledge accessible regardless of who
is in the building.
That
is exactly the problem this article is about. And it is where the method I have
been developing comes in.
The thinking extraction problem
I
tried for a long time to document my own reasoning processes. To write down how
I approach a problem so my team could follow the same path. It did not work
well.
The
reason is simple. Most of the time I move from need to solution without
consciously tracking the steps in between. When I tried to write them down
after the fact, I wrote down what I remembered doing, which was not the same as
what I actually did. The invisible steps stayed invisible because I could not
see them from the inside.
What
I needed was something that could ask me the right questions at the right time.
Something with enough domain knowledge to recognize when I had skipped a step.
Something that would keep asking until the reasoning was complete.
I
built a project in Claude with a simple instruction set. I present a technical
problem and the solution I arrived at. The AI asks questions to determine how I
got there. The output becomes a guide for my team.
What
the AI does that I cannot do alone is force the thinking to become sequential
and explicit. It does not accept the jump from problem to solution. It asks
about the step I skipped. Then the step before that. Then the assumption
underneath that step that I did not know I was making.
The
AI does not solve the problem. It makes me explain how I solved it. That is a
completely different function. And it turns out to be exactly the function that
expert knowledge transfer requires.
What the process produces
The
first guide that came out of this process surprised me.
It
assumed zero knowledge on the part of the reader. Every step was explicit.
Every assumption was named. And somewhere in the middle of the document, a
reference appeared to the OSI model, a foundational framework taught early in
network administration.
I
had not set out to teach the OSI model. I had set out to document a
troubleshooting process. But because the AI was asking me to explain my
reasoning at each step, the underlying framework I was drawing on became
visible. The team member reading the guide gets the solution to the specific
problem and the mental model that produced it.
That
is a fundamentally different kind of document than a standard troubleshooting
guide. Most process documentation captures what was done. This approach
captures why. And the why is where the transferable learning lives.
Why AI works where other methods
do not
I
have tried other approaches to this problem. Writing documentation after the
fact. Talking through a problem with a colleague. Recording myself explaining a
solution.
None
of them produced the same result. And I have thought carefully about why.
A
peer asking structured questions about your reasoning can feel like an
interrogation. A manager asking the same questions can feel judgmental. Both
situations carry social friction that shapes what you say and what you leave
out. You edit yourself without realizing it.
The
AI has no agenda. It is not judging the quality of your reasoning or the
efficiency of your process. It is just asking the next question. That removes
the friction that makes honest expert thinking extraction so difficult in
human-to-human interactions.
The
domain knowledge matters too. An AI that understands network architecture can
recognize when a troubleshooting step is missing in a way that a generalist
facilitator cannot. It knows what question to ask because it understands what
should come next.
The
process is still new. I do not yet have a case study where a team member
followed one of these guides and solved a problem they would have escalated
before. But the quality of the first document suggests the method is sound. The
proof will come with time and reps.
The destination
In
The Phantom Pallet, the moment that marks Dave's transformation as a leader is
not a technical breakthrough. It is a baseball game.
His
plant faces a chiller crisis. His team handles it. He stays at his son's game.
That
is the destination. Not a leader who is indispensable. A leader who has built a
team that does not need them to be present for every crisis. DuFresne calls
this the shift from firefighter to architect. The firefighter's value is in
being there. The architect's value is in what they built before they left the
room.
Making
your thinking visible is how you make that shift. Not all at once. Not
perfectly. But progressively, one guide at a time, one problem at a time, one
team member who can now solve something they could not solve before.
If
your team could handle the chiller crisis without you, what would you do with
the time and energy that freed up? How much more productive could your team
become with a framework built from your best thinking rather than dependent on
your presence? How much more could you scale the company if the knowledge that
lives in your head lived in your systems instead?
The
firefighter cannot answer those questions. The architect already has.
That shift does not
happen overnight. It happens one guide at a time, one problem documented, one
team member who can now solve something they could not solve before. The method
is simple. The discipline to use it consistently is not.
But the leaders who do
the work will find themselves with something most never achieve. A team that
grows without them in the room. A company that scales because the knowledge
lives in the system, not just in their head.
That is worth the
effort.
About this
series
This
is the fourth article in the Leadership Journey series. Article 01 introduced
the transition from individual contributor to leader. Article 02 examined the
environment that shapes development. Article 03 named the promotion trap.
Article 05 will explore the owner mindset and what it looks like when a team
stops waiting for direction.
Reference
DuFresne, Dylan. The Phantom
Pallet: A Manufacturing Fable About Data, Trust, and Transformation. Abelara,
2025. Available on Amazon.com.