You became a physician because you were driven. You studied longer, pushed harder, and tolerated pressure better than most. You needed to be right and usually were. That formula worked. It got you through pre-med, medical school, residency, and into practice. It earned you respect and built your reputation.
But at some point, quietly, subtly, that same formula can start working against you. I realized this after reading Marshall Goldsmith’s book, “What Got You Here Won’t Get You There: How Successful People Become Even More Successful.” It is written for corporate executives, but as I read it, I could not help seeing physicians, myself included, reflected on nearly every page. The higher we rise in medicine, the less technical our challenges become. They are behavioral.
The physician success trap
Early in our careers, success is built on measurable competence: clinical knowledge, diagnostic accuracy, procedural skill, work ethic, and endurance. Medicine rewards intelligence and intensity. But leadership in any form requires something different: emotional regulation, listening, influence, and relationship awareness.
The trap is subtle. We assume, “I behave this way, and I am successful. Therefore, I must be successful because of this behavior.” But often, we succeed despite it. And what once fueled achievement can quietly erode trust.
Winning too much
Physicians are trained to pursue the correct answer. In training, being right matters. But in leadership, the need to win can become corrosive. It looks like correcting colleagues publicly, needing the last word in meetings, turning discussions into debates, or arguing minor points during rounds.
We justify it as advocacy for quality, but every unnecessary win costs relational capital. The question I now try to ask myself is simple: Is it more important that I win this moment or preserve this relationship? In health care, relationships are currency. You can be right and still lose.
Adding too much value
This one hits physicians especially hard. A colleague presents an idea, and we instinctively improve it. “Good idea, but…” We refine it, optimize it, and elevate it. We improved the idea by 5 percent. We reduce their ownership by 50 percent.
Over time, people stop offering ideas, not because they lack initiative, but because they anticipate correction. Leadership is not intellectual dominance. It is an ownership transfer. Sometimes the most powerful response is restraint.
When stress becomes style
Medicine is high-stakes, and pressure is constant. But frustration leaking into tone, sarcasm masked as humor, or sharp criticism in public settings erodes psychological safety. Anger feels like urgency to the physician, but to others, it feels like unpredictability. No one performs their best when bracing for impact. Emotional control is not softness. It is maturity.
The blind spot problem in medicine
Physicians receive remarkably little honest feedback. Hierarchy protects the ego, and status discourages candor. Colleagues hesitate. If no one tells you something is wrong, you assume everything is fine. But blind spots do not disappear because we are competent. They expand in silence.
One of the most uncomfortable and powerful questions we can ask is: “If I could improve one thing in how I work with the team, what would it be?”
Then comes the hardest part. When they answer, say only: “Thank you.” Not “But…” Not “That is not what I meant.” Not “You do not understand the context.” Just thank you. Feedback is not a courtroom. It is a mirror.
ADVERTISEMENT
The basic manners gap
In medicine, we move quickly. We prioritize efficiency. We focus on outcomes. And in doing so, we often neglect something simple. We forget to say “Thank you” or “I am sorry.”
These phrases seem small, but they are not. Apologizing releases tension. Gratitude reinforces belonging. In high-performing teams, respect is not assumed. It is demonstrated, often in two words.
Goal obsession and the human cost
Physicians are goal-driven by design: productivity metrics, quality scores, outcomes, and efficiency targets. Goals matter. But over-focus can create relational blindness. We become so absorbed in the task that we forget the people executing it. You can build a perfect system and still lose the team. Leadership requires remembering that the mission includes the humans.
Less me, more them
The shift for physicians moving into leadership roles, formal or informal, can be summarized simply:
- Less ego, more curiosity.
- Less correcting, more listening.
- Less defending, more thanking.
The behaviors that helped you survive residency may not be the ones that help others thrive around you. And that realization is not an indictment. It is an evolution. Marshall Goldsmith wrote that what got you here will not get you there. For physicians, that realization is not a criticism. It is an invitation to grow. And growth, in medicine, is still our most important discipline.
Harvey Castro, known as DR GPT™, is an emergency physician, author, keynote speaker, and physician futurist. He is advisor to the CEO of Phantom Space. He writes and speaks about artificial intelligence in health care, digital health, space medicine, and the future of human-centered care. Explore his speaking topics and availability.
He is the author of Bing Copilot and Other LLM: Revolutionizing Healthcare With AI, Solving Infamous Cases with Artificial Intelligence, The AI-Driven Entrepreneur: Unlocking Entrepreneurial Success with Artificial Intelligence Strategies and Insights, ChatGPT and Healthcare: The Key To The New Future of Medicine, ChatGPT and Healthcare: Unlocking The Potential Of Patient Empowerment, Revolutionize Your Health and Fitness with ChatGPT’s Modern Weight Loss Hacks, Success Reinvention, and Apple Vision Healthcare Pioneers: A Community for Professionals & Patients.
He shares updates on LinkedIn, YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, and X. #DRGPT
