Fear works… until it doesn’t

Why fear still feels like leadership... and why we keep falling for it.

Fear is funny… (not in the haha way) more like in a tragic human way where you know what’s coming, but you do it anyway… Like a nervous driver trying to steer a car by slamming on the brakes … (it works… technically... just not for long) and not where you need the car to go. We see examples of fear (well, everywhere…) in managers, parents, politicians, even in the way we talk to ourselves. We don’t call it fear, (of course, that would be silly)... We rename it for comfort… words like “urgency” “standards” and “motivation.” It sounds noble that way. But underneath, it’s the same old reflex... do this or else.

But you know what? … annoyingly... it works.

That’s the big trouble (Kurt Russell) with fear. It’s effective enough to look like wisdom... It gets quick results, creates motion in a stuck moment, and makes people listen. Which is why so many (families, offices, classrooms, entire nations) depend on it.

Everyone has probably had that manager who ran on caffeine and panic. Every ssingle task begins like a fire drill… People move fast and no talk backs… Things get done and get done quickly… (basically my whole experience working at sea)… technically everything works... but you know, and I know, that it is not sustainable and there is a big difference between movement and momentum.

Maybe that’s the strangest thing about fear... it feels like leadership. Panic creates motion, and motion looks like progress. Which is probably why we keep falling for it.

How fear really works

Fear is like VHS … (tragic to say but you know it is true… it is ancient technology) You remember this from school, right? It is the body’s alarm system. We have this very clever thing called an amygdala, and it can spot a threat before the rest of you can even notice. Adrenaline surges, attention narrows, and you move… quickly (depending on physique)... It is quite the smart system actually, if there’s an actual fire. Less helpful for complex things like creativity, relationships, small talk, or strategy... basically everything modern life depends on.

Our brains haven’t really had a software update in… well, quite a while. The same system that once saved us from predators now kicks in for unread emails or awkward conversations. The alarm is still loud (and remember, for some of us, it is louder than others), but… the danger, rarely is… well dangerous... And so, we start mistaking adrenaline for purpose.

Fear gives us a powerful illusion (the illusion of control). You raise your voice, the room goes quiet and the chaos stops. It feels powerful… like strength but what you’ve really created is compliance, not connection. A temporary stillness that looks a lot like progress.

From a behaviourist (Yo Skinner!) point of view, fear is a clever little system… it rewards everyone just enough to keep the whole thing alive. From the person doing the shouting to the people being shouted at … everyone wins… (if winning means getting a generous dose of negative reinforcement).

For the person in charge , the chaos triggers anxiety, so they apply pressure… perhaps a raised voice. The room goes quiet, the tension drops, and their nervous system exhales. That’s negative reinforcement in action. The unpleasant feeling disappears the moment control returns. The brain, being the lazy archivist it is, files that away as a win. Next time panic brews, the same reflex shows up faster and a bit louder.

For everyone on the receiving end, it’s a different kind of learning. Compliance (or silence) stops the discomfort and their own adrenaline dips. But they’re not learning skill or judgment… they’re learning avoidance, and avoidance, while effective in the moment, quickly eats away at confidence.

So fear becomes a kind of emotional trade deal. Everyone gets a quick dose of calm, but no one actually grows. The leader feels in control, the followers feel safe from trouble, and the pattern quietly repeats... a perfect little loop of short-term relief and long-term damage.

When fear becomes culture

Remember, fear is not evil. This isn’t James Bond, and fear isn’t sitting in a swivel chair stroking a cat. It’s not plotting against us... it’s just over-employed.

There are moments where fear earns its keep (genuine risk, moral emergencies, the split second before a toddler runs into traffic). But somehow we have managed to turn it into a lifestyle. Constant vigilance becaomes a management style. Permanent alarm turns into parenting strategy. And once fear becomes culture, it stops being visible. You barely notice it, until someone burns out, lashes out... or simply just leaves.

The pattern usually passes down without question. We are surprisingly good at inheriting bad habits (that is how behaviour works, really. We repeat what gets results, even if the results are only temporary). So the reflex travels from boss to employee, parent to child. You absorb the logic without meaning to. And then one day, you hear your own voice... and it sounds like someone who once scared you (it is actually quite funny if it wasn’t so sad).

But hey! That’s also the moment to notice it, right?? To, actually pause before the pattern hardens. Because we are all human (flawed, silly, well meaning, and clumsy at this). If you can catch yourself doing the thing you swore you would never do... that’s the start of change, so take back control and change it… because that’s when you see it clearly…

Fear doesn’t create loyalty. It just builds quiet little rooms full of quiet little polite people who have stopped being honest.

Learning to steer again

If fear is the brake, then reinforcement (the positive kind) is the steering wheel.

Learning and changes do not happen in chaos. They happen in that small but very brave moments where people feel safe enough to say…

“I don’t know”

or

“Can you show me?”

(I need to write an article about that beautiful phrase… I don’t know… it is simply the best thing you can hear). That space (the absence of punishment) is where growth starts to breathe…

And the funny thing is... we already know all of this. We accept it completely when we’re teaching toddlers to do, well, anything. We cheer when they wobble upright, clap when they spill less than usual, and somehow know instinctively that scolding won’t make them walk faster. But the moment people get taller and start wearing ID badges, we forget.

Fear can stop a fall... but it also freezes the climb.

Positive reinforcement, on the other hand, is patient. It shapes behaviour through feedback, fairness, and trust. It’s slower, quieter, sometimes (and by sometimes, I mean always) dull to watch... but it builds competence instead of compliance. Curiosity instead of avoidance. Trust instead of silence. It’s less cinematic, more human. But it’s the only kind of change that lasts.

That’s the art of growth … learning to steer instead of slam on the brakes. Moving things forward without needing to be in control of every turn.

How not to panic

Fear is addictive because it feels like leadership. It gives you motion (a deadline met, a child behaving, a room obeying) and you think, there, that’s control. But it’s caffeine for the collective nervous system. It wakes you up fast, then leaves you jittery, dependent, and tired.

Every culture built on fear (whether it’s a company or a country) eventually faces the same slow erosion. People disengage and do what is safe… not what is right. And when things go wrong, no one says a word until it’s too late. That’s how fear eats systems from the inside out (not through rebellion, but through silence).

The real skill of adulthood (or leadership, or whatever word we’re using this week) is learning when not to panic. To hold a little discomfort without rushing to control it. To trust that silence isn’t always danger, and that chaos isn’t always failure.

Good learning design works the same way (have to squeeze this in sometimes). It leaves space for uncertainty (a bit of wobble, a safe stretch before understanding lands). You don’t learn faster by adding pressure… you learn faster by removing fear. It’s the courage to stay steady while things wobble... to resist the urge to slam the brakes just because the road feels uneven.

Fear will always be part of us … (it’s built in). But it doesn’t have to run the place. Just listen closely, because beneath all the noise and urgency, there is a better and wiser thing trying to get a word in… Something like curiosity, care, or courage…

Those are the things that build worlds.

Fear just stops them burning down…

Borgþór Ásgeirsson 27/10/2025

Learning Design Manager at Cambridge Judge Business School