
Glorifying Overwork
Why exhaustion became the badge of leadership
This short video unpacks why school leadership has come to idolise overwork—and how that silent narrative fuels burnout, stifles creativity, and distorts our definition of what good leadership really looks like.
What story have you been taught—or told yourself—about how hard you have to work to prove you’re a good leader?
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Glorifying Overwork
Why exhaustion became the badge of leadership
At some point, exhaustion became a badge of honour. But it was never meant to be.
I remember the moment clearly: a passing comment from a colleague. “You’re still here? That’s dedication.”
It was late. I hadn’t eaten. My to-do list was growing, not shrinking. And in that moment—despite the fatigue—I felt something unexpected: validation. But what I didn’t realise then is what I’ve seen clearly since: That wasn’t praise. It was the beginning of a trap. A trap that quietly rewards exhaustion over clarity, busyness over impact, and sacrifice over sustainability.
And it’s not just me. This is the story I hear from school leaders across the country.
We don't just normalise overwork. We glorify it.
Somewhere along the way, “tired” became a measure of worth. You’re praised for staying late, admired for “always being on”, and respected for showing up—even when you're running on fumes. And without meaning to, we start believing that the more we sacrifice, the more we matter. But leadership that runs on overwork doesn’t build great schools. It builds quiet resignation.
This is a theme I explored in Leadership in Triage — how survival mode becomes the norm. And again in Bureaucracy vs Innovation — where good ideas stall because the system rewards stability. This article adds a third piece to that conversation: What happens when the exhaustion itself is the thing that gets rewarded?
It’s not just about workload; it’s about identity. Let’s unpack what that looks like through three habits I had to unlearn myself.
Habit 1: Confusing visibility with value
This one is subtle—and it shows up early. You start mentioning the long nights. You apologise for being “slow to reply” because it proves how slammed you are. You wear your busyness like a badge. And gradually, without even realising it, your exhaustion becomes your proof of impact. The belief is this: “If people see how hard I’m working, they’ll know I’m valuable.”
But here’s the shift that changed everything for me: Busyness isn’t leadership. And tired isn’t your brand.
Somewhere along the way, “tired” became a measure of worth.
The research backs this up. Chronic overwork is consistently linked to decreased cognitive performance, reduced empathy, and impaired decision-making (Leiter & Maslach, 2016; Pfeffer, 2018). In other words: the more exhausted we are, the worse we lead.
And yet… we reward it. We don’t pause to ask whether the work is meaningful—just whether it looks impressive. But leadership isn’t a performance—it’s a responsibility. And that responsibility demands rest, reflection, and the capacity to respond—not just react.
If your calendar is full but your vision is foggy, it’s time to reassess what you’re really building.
Habit 2: Equating sacrifice with care
Here’s where it gets dangerous. In schools, we equate selflessness with effectiveness. We celebrate the leader who sacrifices everything. And we quietly expect others to follow that lead. But at what cost?
- You miss the family dinner.
- You reply to emails at midnight.
- You listen to everyone else’s crisis but never process your own.
And people call you amazing. But amazing shouldn’t mean invisible, and care shouldn’t mean collapse. This is something I’ve seen come up again and again in my work with school leadership teams: an unspoken culture of emotional overfunctioning (Bowen, 1978). Leaders are rewarded for holding space for everyone—but offered none for themselves.
Caring doesn’t mean doing it all. It means protecting your ability to do what matters. That starts with boundaries; not because you’re selfish, but because you’re strategic. Boundaries aren’t the end of leadership. They’re the beginning of sustainability.
Habit 3: Treating resilience like the end goal
This one sounds admirable—until it doesn’t.
We praise resilience in leadership. We tell people to “bounce back,” “push through,” and “stay strong.” And while resilience is important, it can also become a trap. Because if the system keeps burning people out, and your only move is to bounce back, you’re not leading change—you’re merely surviving it.
Busyness isn’t leadership. And tired isn’t your brand.
This is a point explored powerfully by Brené Brown (2021), who notes that “resilience without boundaries is just endurance.” And endurance, in unsustainable systems, becomes quiet harm. The goal isn’t just to bounce back. It’s to build systems where fewer people have to.
We cannot settle for personal toughness when structural clarity is what’s actually missing. Don’t just be strong; be strategic enough to redesign the load. That might mean cancelling a meeting, protecting non-contact time, or creating a leadership rhythm that values capacity, not just continuity.
Because long-term leadership doesn’t come from grit alone. It comes from a system that honours clarity, not just commitment.
A Culture That Can’t Sustain Itself
These three habits—of visibility, sacrifice, and resilience—don’t start with bad intent. They start with quiet praise and admiration. With subtle signals that say: “This is what good leadership looks like.” But here’s what I’ve learned: If you have to disappear to be seen, the system is broken. And if your exhaustion is what gets rewarded—it's time to start asking better questions.
We can’t build cultures of excellence on the backs of exhausted leaders. Instead, we build them by reimagining what we reward. This doesn’t mean lowering standards. It means raising your definition of what sustainable leadership can actually be. Remember this: work isn’t your worth, and tired isn’t your legacy. The strength of your leadership isn’t in how much you can carry, but in what you choose to protect.
That’s the version of leadership I want to live. And that’s the version I hope we’ll start building—together.
Ready to lead with clarity?
This is exactly what we explore inside the Professional Wellness Workshop—a free space I’ve created for school leaders who want to lead with energy, reflection, and long-term clarity. I’d love for you to join me.
When you register, you’ll also get an advance copy of my new book:
Culture of Excellence: The Path to Empowered Teaching, Inspired Learning, and Intentional Leadership
When did you realise overwork was being glorified—and how did you begin to step away from it?
References
Bowen, M. (1978). Family therapy in clinical practice. Jason Aronson.
Brown, B. (2021). Atlas of the heart: Mapping meaningful connection and the language of human experience. Random House.
Leiter, M. P., & Maslach, C. (2016). Burnout and engagement: Contributions to a new vision. Burnout Research, 5, 55–57. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.burn.2016.05.002
Pfeffer, J. (2018). Dying for a paycheck: How modern management harms employee health and company performance—and what we can do about it. HarperBusiness.
Senge, P. M. (2006). The fifth discipline: The art and practice of the learning organization (Rev. ed.). Doubleday.

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