I've promoted people wrong. Not once. Several times.

I promoted an engineer who was outstanding at his job. He shipped the most features, knew the codebase better than anyone, never missed a deadline. Reliable, fast, technically brilliant. When a team lead role opened up, the decision felt obvious.

Within six months, three of his best people had resigned.

A senior manager sits surrounded by performance metrics and trophies while the team through the glass window looks disengaged

The Logic Sounds Airtight

Promoting top performers seems to make perfect sense. This person gets results. Put them in charge and the results multiply. Reward good work with more responsibility. The incentive structure aligns.

Except it doesn't work.

Gallup research found companies fail to choose the right management talent 82% of the time. Not 20%. Not 40%. Eighty-two percent. Not occasional bad luck... a systematic failure built into how we think about promotions.

The person best at a job is not automatically the person who should lead others doing it. These are different skills. Entirely different.

What Performance Measures and What It Misses

Performance metrics measure outputs. Lines of code written. Revenue generated. Projects delivered on time. Real, valuable things.

But once you're a manager, your job changes completely. You don't ship anymore. Your team ships. Your role is making other people productive, not yourself.

The skills required are nearly the opposite of what made you stand out as an individual contributor:

  • You need to slow down when your instinct is to speed up.
  • You need to explain your thinking when you'd rather move on.
  • You need to stay calm when everything is going sideways.
  • You need to care about someone's development more than the sprint goal.

None of those show up in a performance review. None of them earn a promotion. So most people never develop them... until suddenly they're expected to demonstrate them every single day.

What Emotional Maturity Is and Isn't

People hear "emotional maturity" and think it means being calm, or nice, or sensitive. It doesn't mean any of those things... or not only those things.

Emotional maturity is the ability to understand what you're feeling, decide how to respond, and keep your reactions proportional to what's happening around you.

An emotionally mature leader: - Takes accountability without getting defensive - Gives feedback aimed at growth, not at venting frustration - Handles pressure without spreading it to their team - Disagrees with people without making them feel attacked - Asks questions without already knowing the answer

This isn't soft. It's extraordinarily difficult. It requires a level of self-awareness most high performers never had to build, because technical brilliance doesn't require it.

Research on leadership performance shows 90% of top organisational performers are high in emotional intelligence. Only 20% of bottom performers are. Performance at the individual level still requires some EQ. Leadership at scale requires a great deal more of it.

The Brilliant Jerk Problem

Tech has a specific version of this. The Brilliant Jerk.

You know the type. Immaculate code. Green metrics. Fast problem-solving. And interpersonal behavior so appalling you'd fire anyone else for it. They dismiss colleagues in meetings. They argue past the point of reason. They make junior engineers feel small.

Organisations tolerate this because the output is high. The implicit message: we'll accept behavior we'd otherwise not tolerate, as long as you keep shipping.

A leader sits alongside a team member at a small table, listening intently, coffee cups between them, genuine human connection

This is a catastrophic mistake. The damage a Brilliant Jerk does to trust, psychological safety, and the retention of the people they work with takes years to repair. When organisations promote a Brilliant Jerk into leadership, they scale the damage.

71% of employers say they'd hire someone with higher EQ over higher IQ. Yet promotion decisions still go to the top producer, the highest biller, the person with the biggest number.

The disconnect is real. We measure performance because it's straightforward to measure. Emotional maturity is harder to quantify, so we pretend it doesn't matter... right up until the exit interviews start.

The Peter Principle Hasn't Gone Anywhere

Laurence Peter described it in 1969: employees get promoted until they reach a level of incompetence. Fifty-plus years later, it's still how most organisations operate.

What he didn't say explicitly, but what I've watched happen repeatedly, is the incompetence is almost never technical. The best engineer doesn't become a bad manager because they forgot how to code. They become a bad manager because they never developed the emotional maturity to do the job.

They don't know how to have an uncomfortable conversation without making it worse. They reward people most like themselves and leave others behind. They make decisions based on their own preferences rather than their team's needs. They don't know how to handle the loneliness of leadership, so they make it everyone else's problem.

I've seen it enough times to know it's not bad luck. It's what happens when you promote for the wrong thing.

What I Look For Now

I look for different things when considering someone for a leadership role. Performance still matters. But here's what else I watch:

How do they handle being wrong? Not in a public forum where they perform grace, but in the moment, in a meeting, when someone challenges them unprepared. Do they adapt or dig in?

How do junior people behave around them? Are they open, energised, comfortable? Or quiet and careful? People lower in the hierarchy always know more about someone's true character than peers and managers do.

What do they do under pressure? When the project is going badly and the deadline is real, do they rise... or do they dump their anxiety onto the people around them?

Do they talk about their team? When asked how a project went, does this person say "I delivered X" or "we delivered X and here's what the team did"?

How do they respond to feedback? Do they treat it as data, or as an attack?

None of these require a psychometric assessment. They require watching someone in a hard moment. Most organisations never bother.

Build the Right Track

Part of the issue sits with how we've structured career progression. In most organisations, the only way to earn more and be taken seriously is to move into management. Individual contributor tracks exist on paper. The status and compensation don't follow.

So highly skilled people who'd be brilliant contributors for another decade get pushed into leadership roles they don't want and aren't built for. Some adapt. Many don't. And the organisations lose both: a great individual contributor who's now a mediocre manager, and a team who deserved better leadership.

The answer isn't to stop promoting people. The answer is to promote the right things. Build a genuine technical track with real progression. Assess leadership candidates on leadership criteria. Make emotional maturity a first-class requirement, not an afterthought on a competency framework nobody reads.

And when you're looking at a promotion, for yourself or someone else, ask honestly: are you promoting this person because they'd be a great leader? Or because they've been a great performer and you don't know what else to do with them?

Those are different questions. Most organisations only ask the first one, and call it the second.

Performance Gets You Noticed. Emotional Maturity Determines Whether You Should Lead.

Before your next promotion decision, sit with this:

Has this person done the work of understanding how they affect the people around them? Do they lead themselves well before leading others?

If the answer is no, the promotion won't fix it. It'll make it worse.

And if you're the one being considered for promotion... ask yourself the same question. Your technical record got you into the room. But it's not what will make you worth following.