I had breakfast with Jim Collins the other day. 

Okay—he was on stage. I was in the crowd of 400 CEOs, frantically taking notes while inhaling burnt coffee and half-warm Styrofoam eggs. But I was there. I heard him speak truth to power at 7:42 a.m. And in that fog of caffeine, exhaustion, and self-reflection, he said something that hit me so hard I almost spit out my eggs: 

“First who, then what.” 

That’s not a motivational platitude. That’s a leadership strategy forged in fire. 

You don’t build great companies by coddling mediocre performers. You build great companies by relentlessly finding and retaining people who (1) understand your mission, (2) have the capacity to deliver at your level, and (3) want it—bad. 

Because I’ve been walking around knowing something I didn’t want to admit: someone on my team doesn’t belong. And I’d been dragging my feet. 

The Most Dangerous Lie You Tell Yourself 

We all lie to ourselves. Not just occasionally—daily. 

We tell ourselves that the person on our team just needs a little more time. A little more support. A new seat. A better tool. Fewer distractions. 

“They have potential.” 

“They mean well.” 

“They’re loyal.” 

“They’ve been here since the beginning.” 

None of that matters. Not when you’re scaling a fast-moving, high-pressure, high-stakes company where the cost of mediocrity isn’t just friction—it’s fatal. 

And yet, we keep waiting. Hoping. Rationalizing. Because making hard calls is uncomfortable. Because firing someone feels cruel. Because admitting a hiring mistake cuts deep into our ego. 

The Clock You’re Ignoring Is Killing You 

Let me tell you something most leadership books won’t: 

The most expensive time in your business is the delay in letting go of someone you know doesn’t belong. 

That gap? That hesitation? That “we’ll give it one more month” head trash? That’s not leadership. That’s avoidance. 

While you’re debating the decision, your A-players are watching. They see your delay as indecision. They see your tolerance of underperformance as proof that standards are optional. And worse—they start to lower their own. 

Because if you’re not protecting excellence, they have no reason to give it. 

This is how cultures erode. Not with a bang, but with a whisper. One weak performer. One tolerated excuse. One blind eye. Then another. Then another. 

Until suddenly, the people who used to love working for you are sending out résumés because they’re tired of carrying dead weight. And you? You’re wondering why you’re suddenly surrounded by mediocrity. 

Here’s the answer: you let it in. And you let it stay. 

Fire Fast, or Die Slow 

Jim Collins asked us a pointed question that every leader needs tattooed on their soul: 

“Have you ever fired someone too quickly and regretted it?” Nobody raised their hand. Not one. 

Then he asked: 

“Have you ever hired someone too quickly and paid for it?” The entire room laughed. Painfully. Because we’ve all done it. 

We’ve ignored the warning signs. We’ve fallen in love with résumés. We’ve made hires in desperation and told ourselves it would all work out. 

It rarely does. 

And once that person is inside your company—inside your culture—they don’t just occupy a seat. They become a toxin. 

They drain meetings. They spread excuses. They normalize slowness. They water down your standards. And the worst part? They become impossible to let go of in your mind. Because now there’s history. There’s “what we’ve invested.” There’s guilt. 

Let me be clear: if you can’t fire someone, you can’t scale. 

You cannot build a great company while dragging people up a hill they don’t even want to climb. If someone isn’t hungry, capable, and committed—then no amount of mentoring, therapy, or Slack motivation memes will fix it. 

You’re Not Running a Shelter—You’re Building a Performance Engine 

This might sound harsh, but I’m not here to make you feel better. I’m here to tell you the truth: 

You cannot build a fast-growing, secure, high-performance organization with people who are just trying to “get through the week.” 

It doesn’t work. 

You need warriors, operators, and problem solvers —people who run toward the fire, not the exit. People who lean into growth—even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard. 

If someone on your team isn’t evolving as fast as your company is, they are already falling behind. And that gap? That delta between what you need and what they deliver? It’s widening every single day you delay the hard conversation. 

Eventually, that gap becomes a crater. Eventually, that crater becomes a sinkhole. And eventually, you’ll fall in—and take the company with you. 

You Don’t Have a People Problem—You Have a Leadership Problem 

And here’s the real gut-punch. Most of the time, the problem isn’t the employee. It’s you. You kept them too long, ignored the signs, and told yourself a story that served your comfort instead of your company. That’s not kindness. That’s cowardice. 

You aren’t helping that person by keeping them in a role they’re failing in. You’re setting them up to drown slowly, publicly, and painfully. You’re robbing them of the opportunity to find a better fit somewhere else. You’re enabling stagnation, not supporting growth. 

And in the process, you’re sacrificing your team, your momentum, and your sanity. 

Let me ask you this: 

How many nights have you lost sleep over someone you knew you should’ve fired months ago? 

How many meetings have you rewritten to avoid calling them out? 

How many conversations have you postponed because you didn’t want to “deal with the drama”? 

That’s the tax of avoidance. You’re paying for it in stress, performance drag, culture erosion, and ultimately—your reputation as a leader. 

Because when it finally blows up (and it will), your team won’t ask why that person failed. They’ll ask why you let it go on for so long. 

The Exit Interview You Never Hear 

No one ever leaves your company and says, “You know what? I wish you’d kept me longer in a job I couldn’t succeed at.” But they will say: 

“I knew I wasn’t a fit.” 

“I could feel it slipping.” 

“I was waiting for the conversation.” 

You think you’re being patient. They think you’re avoiding the inevitable. Stop postponing the fallout. Stop dragging out the discomfort. Stop lying to yourself. 

Rip. The. Band-Aid. Off. 

Have the conversation. Make the move. Reclaim the momentum. Your best people are watching. Your clients are depending on you. Your growth is waiting. 

And if you still need someone to blame? Blame me. Blame Jim. Blame this blog. But do not walk back into your next team meeting pretending you don’t know what has to happen. 

Because deep down, you already know. You’ve known for weeks. Maybe months. And if we’re being honest… probably since the second interview. 

The only question left is this: 

Are you going to act like a leader—or keep pretending everything’s fine until your team decides to lead themselves… somewhere else?