Why Dumba$$e$ Get Promoted
The louder they are, the faster they rise.
How I Mistook a Wonderful Head of Hair and Confidence for Competence
When I was in private practice, I once worked with a lawyer who was up for partnership. On first impression, he was the total package — charisma, sharp suits and an incredible head of hair (it’s a bit weird that I still talk about it, I know). This guy was my hero. I worshipped him… until I actually worked with him.
He couldn’t navigate the basics, stumbled through client meetings and blanked on questions a first-year could answer. The transaction was a disaster — the client even filed a formal complaint about him. Watching him get propelled into partnership was infuriating (and oddly inspiring… maybe there was hope for me!).
But the experience left a mark. How could someone so visibly incompetent rise to leadership? Racism? Sexism? Office politics? Maybe. But there’s also a less talked-about reason some of the worst performers end up in the best positions: the action fallacy.
The Action Fallacy
The action fallacy is the belief that visible activity — especially quick decisions and constant motion — equals effectiveness. It glorifies noise, drama and busyness, mistaking it all for leadership.
In corporate life, this means we confuse people who talk a lot (even if they’re saying nothing), look confident (even if they’re clueless) and always seem busy (even if they’re just running in circles) with people who are actually good at their jobs. We idolise those “putting out fires”, even when they were the ones holding the match.
In office environments, the allure of action is strong, driven by a desire to appear proactive and responsive in a competitive environment. Look around your own office. Think about who’s been elevated to managerial or leadership positions. Bet you can spot a few action heroes in the wild.
That incompetent, sharp-suited lawyer with fantastic hair I once admired was a textbook case: loud in meetings, always “swamped,” hastily making decisions without sufficient analysis, terrible with delegation and useless at fundamentals. Yet somehow, the chaos he created got mistaken for competence.
How the Action Fallacy Warps Corporate Culture
The action fallacy has two particularly toxic effects.
First, it blinds us to brilliant people — the humble, organised, quietly effective ones — because they’re seen as “boring” compared to the charismatic captains of crisis. Back in my law firm days, I worked with some excellent lawyers: technically brilliant, calm under pressure, true leaders. They ran deal teams with discipline and foresight. But instead of being celebrated, they were sidelined — stuck in the “safe pair of hands” category — while the loud fire-starters were flagged as leadership material. After all, the quiet operators didn’t have heroic war stories about all-nighters or dramatic saves. They just… did their jobs really, really well. And in many organisations, that’s not what gets you noticed.
Second, it teaches the wrong lessons. It tells people gunning for leadership roles that the key to success is looking busy, dramatic and indispensable — not actually being good at their job. If being a captain of crisis gets you fame, bonuses, and promotions, why wouldn’t you seek out (or manufacture) a little chaos of your own?
Keith Grint, an expert in leadership studies, put it perfectly:
Since we reward people who are good in crises (and ignore people who are such good managers that there are no crises), [people] soon learn to seek out (or reframe situations as) crises.
The result? A self-perpetuating ecosystem of leaders justifying their positions through noise, not results.
The Swimmer Analogy
Historian Martin Gutmann captures the concept of action fallacy perfectly with a story about two swimmers trying to cross a violent river:
Swimmer A charges in without preparation. They ignore the currents, dismiss advice, nearly drown — but thrash, fight and somehow make it across, battered but alive.
Swimmer B spends months studying the river. They learn the currents, pick the right time of day and use the right equipment. When they finally cross, it’s smooth, controlled, almost effortless.
Now, if you were standing on the riverbank, who would you notice?
Exactly.
In most offices, we don’t reward the swimmer who made it across effortlessly. We often promote the one who nearly drowned. We reward theatre, not outcomes. The cost of this is significant. Burnt-out teams, high turnover and office cultures filled with stress.
How to Survive (and Win) in an Action-Fallacy World
So how do you deal with this madness, especially if you’re not the chaotic, loud “hero” type?
Here’s what I’ve learned:
Play the game… strategically: You don’t have to be loud (though it helps), but you do need to be visible — especially in a WFH world. Schedule regular catch-ups with your manager. Share your wins. Mention how you prevented problems, not just how you fixed them.
Narrate your impact — calmly: You don’t need to fake busyness. But you do need to communicate your contributions. Don’t assume others notice the calm you create. A well-timed “just FYI…” email goes a long way.
Don’t start fires just to put them out: It’s tempting. Chaos gets attention. But short-term praise from self-inflicted drama builds long-term instability — and yes, people eventually catch on.
Take time to reflect: In the chaos of office life, it’s easy to stay in go-mode. But reflection is a strategy. Step back. Ask yourself: what’s working, what’s not and where you can pivot. Align with the right people, lean into your strengths and adjust before things break.
Find your people: If your workplace rewards drama and crisis-chasing, consider switching teams… or switching firms. You’ll thrive where competence is valued more than theatrics.
Redefine leadership, wherever you are: This one matters — a lot. Whether you manage one intern or a whole team, shift the culture. Start recognising and rewarding the quiet operators — the ones who never let the fire start in the first place. Real change won’t come from louder voices, but from those who value thoughtfulness over performance.
The Real Cost of the Action Fallacy
When I think back to that lawyer — the one with the swagger and the staggering incompetence — I realise he wasn’t just a bad lawyer. He was a symptom of a culture that rewards visibility over value, chaos over calm, noise over nuance.
The action fallacy isn’t just about bad promotions. It shapes who rises, who gets overlooked and what behaviours get celebrated. It creates workplaces addicted to reaction over reflection — where the quiet high performers burn out or check out.
Sure, there are other forces at play: bias, politics, legacy structures and plain old bad luck. But the action fallacy is particularly insidious because it looks like merit and feels like leadership. And that makes it harder to challenge.
Final thoughts
If we want better leaders, better cultures, and better companies, it starts with awareness — and then action. Real action. Not the performative kind. But the kind that values quiet competence, intentional leadership and workplaces where success isn’t measured by how many fires you put out, but how few you start in the first place.
Before you go…
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Next week’s piece? We’re diving into comparison culture and how it quietly messes with our progress, our self-worth and our ability to stay in our own lane.
You nailed it: competence doesn’t always wear a cape—it often carries a clipboard, works quietly, and never lets the fire start.
Confidence doesn’t always equal competence. Loudness doesn’t always equal strength. Great perspective on action fallacy and how to spot it when looking for potential leaders.