The resilience myth: why superheroes don’t keep us safe

We all love a superhero. The one who shows up, takes charge, carries the weight, and never rests. In industry, we’ve quietly built our expectations of leaders around that myth.

No fear. No fatigue. No overwhelm. Always pushing through. Always “getting on with it.”

But here’s the truth: resilience is not about being a superhero in that sense. At least, not the way you think.

Last month I finally moved into my new house after three months of renovations. We had pulled out old flooring and stripped wallpaper that clung stubbornly to the walls. We debated over bathroom tiles, paint colors, kitchen layouts. We made endless choices about what to do ourselves, what to delegate, and how to keep the budget under control.

Some days I felt like the project manager of a refinery turnaround: juggling contractors, chasing deadlines, managing costs, balancing safety with speed. Other days I felt like the cleaner, scraping glue off the floor, exhausted but pushing through.

And when the movers finally arrived, towers of boxes filled the rooms. We had a kick-up not being able to get into the new house because the key was in the lock on the inside. And when that was solved, everyone wanted answers: Where does this go? Which box first?

The truth? I couldn’t always decide. Sometimes I had to admit: Not now. Let’s wait until it becomes clear.

That in itself was a lesson in resilience.

Because the real superhero move wasn’t to know everything, decide everything, or do everything. It was to pause. To take a breath. To pick one decision, one room, one step forward. And to recognize not only what still needed doing, but also everything we had already put in place.

That’s the side of resilience we don’t talk about enough.

The American Psychological Association defines resilience as “the process and outcome of successfully adapting to difficult or challenging life experiences, especially through mental, emotional, and behavioral flexibility.” Flexibility, not force. Adaptability, not stubbornness.

In high-risk industries, though, we often mistake resilience for toughness. Leaders who never rest. Teams that always deliver. Workers who “just get on with it.” But research tells a different story:

• Cognitive overload reduces our ability to detect risks. In aviation studies, pilots under high workload missed up to 60% of warning cues compared to those in manageable conditions.

• In healthcare, staff under sustained overwhelm were nearly twice as likely to make errors during long shifts.

• And in process industries, the Energy Institute reminds us that human performance under pressure predictably degrades. True resilience is built not in toughness, but in the systems and pauses that allow recovery.

Overwhelm isn’t a private weakness. It’s a safety risk. When pressure piles up, people miss signals. When silence feels safer than speaking up, risks go unnoticed. When teams push past their limits, shortcuts replace procedures.

So maybe the real superheroes in our organizations aren’t the ones who never stop. Maybe they’re the ones who know when to pause, reset, and invite others in.

Renovating a house taught me this in a way I couldn’t ignore. It’s not glamorous to say, “I don’t know yet” or “I need help.” But that’s what kept the project moving. That’s what kept me from collapsing under the weight of too many decisions. And that’s what allowed me, finally, to stand in the middle of my half-finished house, look around, and reflect on how much we had already achieved.

That’s a practice we rarely build into our workplaces: the pause to acknowledge progress. To see the new floor laid, the walls painted, the foundations strengthened, even if not everything is finished yet.

In safety and leadership, that pause matters. Because when we only focus on what’s not done, we feed overwhelm. But when we take stock of what is in place, we build confidence, momentum, and perspective.

So maybe resilience is less about pushing harder and more about balancing wisely:

• Between doing it yourself and delegating.

• Between fast decisions and waiting until clarity comes.

• Between driving forward and pausing to see what’s already been achieved.

Superheroes aren’t the ones who never break. They’re the ones who remain human under pressure: flexible, humble, willing to pause.

That’s what keeps us human. That’s what keeps us safe.

So I’ll leave you with this reflection: When was the last time you felt like you had to be the superhero? And what shifted when you allowed yourself, or your team, to pause?

Warm regards,

Marieke Bleyenbergh

Founder, Be Human Be Safe