Jamie Woolf

They don't even disagree with us.

They laugh at our stupid jokes.

And this creates a massive reality distortion.

And I fell into that reality distortion.

I fell into that real hard.

So fast forward from my surgery story, and now I'm a boss.

I'm 32 years old, and I'm leading a training team at the University of California at Berkeley.

I have eight direct reports, we're gelling as a team, we're putting out all sorts of creative training programs, and you know what?

I'm a good boss.

One day, one of my employees comes into my office, and she says she wants to talk.

but she's crying so hard she can't speak.

So of course I'm concerned, but I'm also a little irritated because I have this budget report due at the end of the day and I've got to get back to it.

When she finally gathers herself enough to speak, she tells me that she has been working so hard to deliver this training program and she's invited me multiple times to come and observe.

and I've been too busy to show up.

And more than that, she feels like I play favorites.

So now I'm thinking, holy crap, I'm the wretched boss.

And that's power blindness in action.

So my sobbing employee, I failed to see her.

But she saw me.

She saw me a little too well.