Fire service officers occupy a strange position. Everyone expects them to absorb pressure, make decisions, manage people, and keep the wheels on, but there isn't always anyone checking on them. The system isn't necessarily set up to circle back to the middle managers. They're the bridge between the top brass and the line, carrying information and expectations in both directions while often having very little room to drop the weight themselves.
Officers are expected to be the calm in the middle of everyone else's chaos. When a firefighter is struggling, the officer is supposed to notice. When the crew is burned out, the officer is supposed to manage it. When something goes wrong on a call, the officer is expected to own the decision, explain it, and then move on to the next run.
But who checks on the officer?
The transition from firefighter to officer can be a rocky one. The people you used to vent with may now be the people you supervise, which changes the relationship whether anyone acknowledges it or not. You can't always unload on your crew because you're their officer, and you can't always unload on your chief because you're trying to demonstrate that you've got things handled. So where does all that pressure go?
That's where things get interesting.
Leadership doesn't mean carrying everything silently. In fact, knowing when you need another perspective, a conversation, or some help may be one of the more important leadership skills you develop.
There is a difference between self-sufficiency and isolation. You demonstrate self-sufficiency when you build your own support system and learn how to let that system change as your career changes. As you move up the ladder, your professional network needs to move with you. With your promotion comes a promotion to your professional network.
That's one way officers can stay unshakable behind the scenes. Consider building relationships with others at your rank in neighboring departments, people you meet through professional development groups, third-party performance coaches, retired firefighters, or outside mentors. Find people who understand the position you're in and who aren't afraid to give you honest feedback.
Because one of the common points of failure in fire departments is a weak link in the middle of the chain. When officers are regularly having tantrums, grasping upward for power, gossiping, playing favorites, or allowing their own unresolved shit to spill onto the crew, the entire system suffers.
The behavior at the middle level doesn't stay at the middle level; it radiates throughout the organization.
You can't spend an entire career being the shock absorber for everyone else and expect nothing to happen to you. Get your own people, your own outlets, and your own mental performance practices.
"Promoted to incompetence" only becomes that when you remain the same person you were before you became an officer. The hierarchy may not have built-in practices to make that happen for you, and nobody may hand you a playbook for how to navigate the psychological side of leadership.
So go out and create one for yourself. Learn how to take care of yourself while you're taking care of everyone else.
The seat may be lonely, but it doesn't have to stay that way.
If you're an officer trying to get better at leading your crew without losing yourself in the process, subscribe to our YouTube channel for more conversations on mental performance. You spend plenty of time looking after your people; make sure you're building the tools and support system to look after yourself, too.