Humility: The Power Move Most Men Ignore

When Power Goes to Your Head
(and How I Almost Let It Go to Mine)

A few years back, I walked onto a construction site I’d been running for months.

Everything was humming.

My crew respected me.

The boss trusted me.

The work was tight, on time, and under budget.

I was winning—and I knew it.

I strutted a little more that day.

Called out corrections louder than usual.

Leaned back in my chair during the afternoon meeting, arms folded, eyes half-shut like I’d seen some old bosses do.

One of my younger guys came over, hesitant, pointing out something we missed on the plans.

I cut him off.

“Handled it already,” I said.

I hadn’t.

Three days later, the inspector flagged the exact thing I waved off.

Cost us a few hours, a few hundred bucks, and more than that—a hit to my crew’s confidence in me.

That night, after everyone cleared out, I walked the site alone.

Same boots. Same tools.

But I felt small again, like the green apprentice I once was, sweeping the floor and double-checking measurements three times before asking for help.

I realized something simple: I was starting to believe my own hype.

And that’s when I remembered the lesson I had learned years ago on the mat, the jobsite, and in life—humility isn’t just for the weak or the uncertain.

It’s even more critical when you’re winning.

The Real Reason Confidence Turns Into Arrogance

You’ve seen it.

The hotshot who finally gets good at something and becomes unbearable to be around.

The guy who lands a high-paying job, hits a PR in the gym, or starts a business—and suddenly thinks he’s better than everyone else.

It happens in the military. In business. In relationships.

And yes, on the mat.

On a recent Shawn Ryan Show podcast, a former Navy SEAL instructor talked about this exact issue.

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He referenced an article called The Paradox of Power—and how leadership in elite circles often fails because they stop teaching humility when it’s needed most.

It’s not a jab at the Navy.

I’ve seen the same thing with black belts, foremen, and fathers.

Success has a way of blinding you.

You forget what got you there:

• Curiosity
• Discipline
• Humility
• Service
• Hunger

And instead of doubling down on those traits, you start flexing status, avoiding hard questions, and pushing others away instead of lifting them up.

This is what the Peter Principle looks like in real life:

You rise to the level of your own incompetence not because you lack skills—but because you stopped practicing the mindset that earned you your place.

So how do you protect yourself?

How do you stay sharp, grounded, and humble—especially when you’re actually doing well?

The +s, -s, and =s Model for Staying Humble and Hungry

Here’s a simple system I’ve used for decades: on the mat, on the jobsite, and in life.

I call it the +s, -s, and =s.

It’s not just a leadership hack.

It’s a life compass.

A way to build confidence while staying humble.

To enjoy your wins without becoming an arrogant jerk.

To grow and ground yourself.

Let’s break it down:

+s: People Better Than You

These are the mentors, masters, and quiet assassins who inspire awe.

The BJJ brown belt who toys with you like you’re made of noodles.

​The business owner who built a million-dollar company while raising three kids.

The community leader who walks their talk and never asks for applause.

You seek them out because they remind you how far you have to go.

They show you what’s possible.

They keep you from drinking your own Kool-Aid.​

Being around a + humbles you—but it also lights a fire.

You leave the mat, the meeting, or the coffee chat buzzing with energy, thinking, I want to get better.

Tip: When you find someone better than you, shut up and listen. Ask questions. Watch how they move, speak, lead. Let their excellence lift your standards.

-s: People Not Yet Where You Are

These are the beginners, the rookies, the white belts in whatever field you’re in.

They may not have your skills, your experience, or your confidence—but they’ve got something you’ve forgotten: wonder.

When you take the time to help a - grow, two things happen:

1. You reconnect with your own journey.
2. You see how far you’ve actually come.

You don’t just become a teacher. You become a mirror. You remember what it was like to be lost, scared, and new—and you remember what it took to get here.

This keeps you grounded. And grateful.

Tip: Don’t patronize your -s.

Empower them. Respect them.

Share what you know, but more importantly, model how you live.

=s: People at Your Level Who Push You

This is where the real magic happens.

Your =s are your rivals, your allies, your accountability partners.

They challenge your ideas, spot your blind spots, and refuse to let you settle.

On the mat, they’re the ones you roll with weekly.

You tap them; they tap you.

You sharpen each other.

You level up together.

In business, they’re the people building alongside you.

• Same stage.
• Same fire.
• Same war.

=s are your steel. They grind you. Polish you. Fortify you.

Tip: Choose your =s wisely.

Not just by skill, but by character.

You want equals who don’t let you off the hook.

Who celebrate your wins but call out your BS.

Who make you better by refusing to let you play small.

How This System Keeps You Humble, Sharp, and Centered

If you’ve ever felt like:

• You’re starting to coast...
• You’re doubting yourself again, even after some wins...
• You’re getting a little too proud, too defensive, too “right”...

The +s, -s, =s framework will fix that.

Here’s how:

• Your +s pull you up.
• Your -s keep you honest.
• Your =s keep you sharp.

Humility isn’t about thinking less of yourself. It’s about thinking of yourself less.

It’s about serving a greater cause—growth, excellence, tribe.

And that takes constant recalibration.

This model forces you to calibrate.

Not once.

Every day.

Putting It On the Mat

Last week, I trained with a guy who had a few stripes on his white belt. Strong. Explosive. A little wild. He clearly wanted to prove himself.

I saw him go hard with a newer guy—almost too hard.

Ego crept in. He got the tap and grinned like he’d won the lottery.

Then he rolled with one of our brown belts.

Within 90 seconds, he was breathing heavy, scrambling, defending chokes he didn’t understand. Tap. Tap. Tap.

After class, I saw him sitting on the edge of the mat, shoulders slumped, staring at the floor.

I walked over, knelt beside him, and said, “You did good, man. Know why?”

He looked at me confused.

“Because you showed up. You went hard. And you got humbled without quitting. That’s what it’s about.”

He smiled, nodded, and exhaled like he finally understood.

And I saw a little of my younger self in him.

Truth is, I still need to hear that lesson too.

Every time I start to think I’ve figured it out...

Every time I want to coast...

Every time I feel like the top dog...

I remind myself:

• There’s someone out there who can crush me (+)
• There’s someone watching me to learn (-)
• There’s someone grinding next to me who won’t let me slack (=)

This is how you stay sharp, hungry, and humble—even when you’re killing it.

And that’s the paradox of power.

Real power doesn’t need to puff its chest.

Real power knows it’s just one missed step away from being humbled.

And that’s what makes it real.

So here’s your challenge this week:

1. Find a +: Reach out to someone you admire. Ask for their time, their wisdom, their story.
2. Find a -: Help someone just starting out. Teach. Mentor. Serve.
3. Find an =: Set a challenge with someone at your level. Compete. Collaborate. Sharpen each other.

Don’t let your power go to your head. Put it on the mat.

That’s where humility lives.

And that’s where warriors are made.