The Doorman Fallacy: Why Being Less Efficient Makes You a Better Leader

Sometimes the most profitable thing you can do is the thing that doesn't show up on a spreadsheet.

There was a period in my early career when I was that guy.

The one who took exactly 15 minutes for coffee break and exactly 30 minutes for lunch.

The one who was back at work before the supervisor even stood up.

The one who saw every project as a three-dimensional real-time puzzle to solve as efficiently as possible.

I loved the work. I really loved it.

And I was good at it.

I was a machine.

At least, that's what I thought.

Years later, I ran into one of the guys I'd worked with back then—someone I'd actually liked, even though I thought most of my coworkers were idiots and assholes who were proud to earn union wages but didn't do work worthy of those wages.

(Yeah. I was an arrogant, ignorant little cuss back then.)

We were on a big project together, and during a break, he looked at me and said:

"I hated you back then. You were such an asshole."

I nodded.

"Yeah... sorry about that."

He wasn't wrong.

I was so focused on getting the work done effectively and profitably that I completely missed the second- and third-order effects I was creating around me.

The culture I was poisoning.

The connections I was destroying.

The damage I was doing by treating efficiency as the highest virtue.

I thought being a good worker meant being a machine.

I thought leadership was about maximizing output.

I thought profitability was the only metric that mattered.

I was wrong.

The Problem: You're Optimizing for the Wrong Thing

Here's what's actually happening.

You're obsessed with efficiency.

With productivity.

With cutting waste.

With maximizing output per dollar, per hour, per unit of effort.

You look at every process and ask: How can I make this faster? Cheaper? More streamlined?

• You eliminate downtime
• You automate repetitive tasks
• You cut anything that doesn't directly contribute to the bottom line

And on paper, it looks good.

Your numbers improve.

Your margins increase.

Your productivity metrics go up.

But something else is happening that doesn't show up on the spreadsheet.

Your culture is eroding.

Your relationships are weakening.

Your team is disengaging.

Your customers are becoming transactions instead of people.

And you don't notice it—at first.

Because you're measuring the wrong things.

You're optimizing for efficiency without considering the cost.

You're focused on first-order effects—what happens immediately—without seeing the second- and third-order effects that compound over time.

And by the time you notice, the damage is done.

The Cost: What You Lose When You Optimize Everything

Let me tell you what happened when I was "that guy" on the job site.

I got the work done.

I met deadlines.

I maximized productivity.

But I also:

• Created resentment among my coworkers
• Damaged trust with people who could have been allies
• Made the job site a colder, more transactional place
• Missed opportunities to learn from people who had decades of experience
• Built a reputation as someone who cared more about the work than the people doing it

And here's the kicker:

All that "efficiency" I was so proud of? It was short-term thinking disguised as good leadership.

Because when you burn relationships, you lose collaboration.

When you prioritize speed over connection, you lose trust.

When you treat people like cogs in a machine, you lose loyalty, creativity, and the discretionary effort that separates good teams from great ones.

The second-order effects of my "efficiency" were making me—and everyone around me—less effective in the long run.

And I didn't see it because I was measuring the wrong things.

The Doorman Fallacy: When Efficiency Destroys Value

​There's a story that illustrates this perfectly.

A luxury hotel decides to cut costs.

They look at their budget and notice they're paying a doorman $50,000 a year.

So they ask: What does the doorman actually do?

He opens doors.

That's it.

And in the age of automatic doors, that seems wasteful.

So they fire the doorman and install automatic doors.

Cost savings: $50,000 a year.

Problem solved.

Except it's not.

Six months later, the hotel notices something strange:

• Customer satisfaction scores are down
• Repeat bookings have declined
• Online reviews mention that the hotel "doesn't feel as welcoming anymore"
• Revenue is dropping

What happened?

The doorman wasn't just opening doors.

He was greeting guests by name.

He was helping with luggage.

He was giving directions and recommendations.

He was creating a moment of human connection that made guests feel seen, valued, and welcomed.

He was the first impression and the last goodbye.

He was creating an experience that couldn't be automated.

And when the hotel fired him to save $50,000, they lost far more than that in decreased loyalty, reduced referrals, and declining revenue.

That's the doorman fallacy.​

It's the mistake of optimizing for first-order effects—immediate cost savings—without considering the second- and third-order effects that actually drive long-term value.

And it's happening everywhere.

The Self-Checkout Disaster: Efficiency at the Cost of Everything Else

You see the doorman fallacy every time you go to a grocery store.

Self-checkout lanes.

They were supposed to be more efficient.

Faster.

Cheaper.

Cut labor costs. Reduce wait times. Streamline operations.

But what actually happened?

For the store:

• Increased theft (shrinkage rates skyrocketed)
• More customer frustration (the machines constantly malfunction)
• Loss of customer service touchpoints (no one to ask questions, get help, or build rapport)
• Decreased employee morale (the remaining staff are now just babysitting machines and dealing with angry customers)

For the customer:

• We're now doing unpaid labor for the store
• We're dealing with machines that don't work half the time
• We've lost the human interaction that made shopping less transactional
• We're being treated like potential thieves (have you noticed the cameras and weight sensors?)

The first-order effect: Labor cost savings.

The second-order effects: Increased theft, customer frustration, damaged relationships, loss of goodwill.

The third-order effects: Customers shop elsewhere. Employees disengage. The brand becomes associated with coldness and inconvenience.

And the company wonders why revenue is declining.

They optimized for efficiency and lost profitability.

The Distinction: First-Order vs. Second-Order Thinking

Let's draw a clean line.

First-order thinking asks: What happens immediately?

• Fire the doorman → save $50,000
• Install self-checkout → reduce labor costs
• Cut break times → increase productivity
• Automate customer service → save money

Second-order thinking asks: Then what? And after that?

• Fire the doorman → save $50,000 → guests feel less welcomed → satisfaction drops → bookings decline → revenue falls
• Install self-checkout → reduce labor costs → increase theft and frustration → customers shop elsewhere → lose more than you saved
• Cut break times → increase productivity → burn out your team → lose trust and morale → turnover increases → training costs skyrocket
• Automate customer service → save money → customers can't get help → frustration rises → loyalty erodes → lifetime value drops

The 80%ers optimize for first-order effects.

They see immediate gains and stop there.

They cut costs without considering what they're losing.

They chase efficiency without understanding the full picture.

The 20%ers think in second- and third-order effects.

They ask:

They understand that not everything valuable shows up on a spreadsheet.

The 1%?

They've built systems where efficiency and humanity coexist.

Where profitability and culture reinforce each other. Where the long game is always the priority.

Which group are you in?

What Cannot Be Automated: The Human Elements That Create Real Value

Here's the truth most efficiency-obsessed leaders miss:

The things that create the most long-term value are the things that can't be automated.

You can automate transactions.

You can't automate trust.

You can automate processes.

You can't automate connection.

You can automate efficiency.

You can't automate care.

The doorman wasn't valuable because he opened doors.

He was valuable because he made people feel welcomed.

The checkout clerk isn't valuable because they scan items.

They're valuable because they smile, make small talk, and turn a transaction into a moment of human interaction.

(I do my best to remember this when the checkout person is happily chatting away with a customer while I'm waiting in line.)

The foreman who takes an extra five minutes to check in with his crew isn't wasting time.

He's building trust, morale, and loyalty that will pay dividends when the project gets hard.

The leader who spends time in "unproductive" conversations isn't being inefficient.

They're building relationships that make everything else work better.

These things don't show up on a productivity report.

But they show up in retention, loyalty, discretionary effort, referrals, and long-term profitability.

And when you optimize them away, you lose the very things that create sustainable success.

The Framework: Leading Without Falling for the Doorman Fallacy

Here's how to lead effectively without sacrificing the human elements that create real value.

Step 1: Identify Your "Doormen"

Ask yourself:

What are the things in my business, team, or life that seem "inefficient" but create disproportionate value?

Examples:

• The team lunch that "wastes" an hour but builds camaraderie
• The coffee break conversations that seem unproductive but generate ideas and trust
• The customer service touchpoint that costs money but creates loyalty
• The informal check-ins that don't move projects forward but keep morale high
• The "thank you" or acknowledgment that takes 30 seconds but makes someone feel seen

These are your doormen.

Don't cut them in the name of efficiency.

Step 2: Think in Second- and Third-Order Effects

Before making any decision, ask:

Then what? And after that?

Walk through the chain:

• If I cut this, what happens immediately?
• Then what happens?
• And after that?
• What's the compounding impact over 6 months? A year? Five years?

Most bad decisions look good in the first order and terrible in the second and third.

Most great decisions look inefficient in the first order and brilliant in the second and third.

Step 3: Measure What Actually Matters

Stop measuring only:

• Productivity per hour
• Cost per transaction
• Time to completion

Start measuring:

• Employee retention and morale
• Customer lifetime value
• Repeat business and referrals
• Quality of relationships
• Trust and psychological safety
• Discretionary effort (how much people go above and beyond)

What you measure shapes what you optimize.

If you only measure efficiency, you'll sacrifice everything else.

If you measure long-term value, you'll make different choices.

Step 4: Protect the "Inefficient" Moments

Build space for the things that don't show immediate ROI but create long-term value:

• Unhurried conversations
• Team meals
• Time to think
• Relationship-building
• Teaching moments
• Acknowledgment and appreciation

These aren't "wastes" of time.

They're investments in culture, trust, and long-term effectiveness.

Step 5: Be Present, Not Just Productive

Here's the shift that changed everything for me:

I stopped trying to be the most productive person in the room and started trying to be the most present.

Present means:

• Actually listening when someone talks, not just waiting for them to finish
• Noticing when someone is struggling and checking in
• Taking the extra 30 seconds to say thank you or acknowledge good work
• Slowing down enough to see what's actually happening, not just what's on the checklist

This doesn't show up on a timesheet.

But it shows up in trust, loyalty, and the willingness of people to follow you when things get hard.

Step 6: Remember That Culture Compounds

Every interaction either builds or erodes culture.

Every time you prioritize efficiency over humanity, you chip away at trust.

Every time you rush past someone to get to the next task, you signal that they don't matter.

Every time you treat people like machines, you create a culture where people act like machines—doing the minimum, disengaging, leaving at the first opportunity.

Culture compounds.

Good culture creates discretionary effort, loyalty, and resilience.

Bad culture creates resentment, turnover, and fragility.

And you build culture in the small, "inefficient" moments—not in the big speeches or mission statements.

Proof Through Life: What I Learned by Being "That Guy"

For years, I was the guy who optimized for efficiency.

I got results.

I was productive.

But I was also an asshole.

And it cost me.

It cost me relationships with people who could have been mentors, collaborators, friends.

It cost me trust that took years to rebuild.

It cost me opportunities to learn from people who had decades more experience than me but who I dismissed because they didn't meet my standard of "worthy of union wages."

I was optimizing for the wrong thing.

And I didn't see it until years later when someone told me, "I hated you back then."

That hurt.

Not because I disagreed.

But because it was true.

And because I realized that all my "efficiency" had been short-term thinking disguised as good work ethic.

The most profitable thing I've done in the last decade isn't working faster or cutting waste.

It's slowing down enough to see people.

To build relationships.

To create trust.

To invest in the "inefficient" moments that don't show up on a spreadsheet but compound into long-term value.

The Objections I Used

"But I can't afford to be inefficient. I have deadlines and budgets."

You can't afford not to invest in people and culture.

Burned-out teams miss deadlines.

Disengaged employees produce poor work.

High turnover costs more than the "inefficiency" of building relationships.

"My industry is too competitive. I have to maximize efficiency."

The most competitive advantage you have isn't efficiency.

It's loyalty—from employees and customers.

And loyalty comes from trust, which comes from the "inefficient" human moments.

"This sounds soft. Leadership is about results."

You're right. Leadership is about results.

And the best results come from teams that trust you, customers that are loyal, and cultures that create discretionary effort.

None of that comes from treating people like machines.

"I don't have time for all this touchy-feely stuff."

Then you don't have time to lead.

Because leading isn't just about getting tasks done.

It's about building something sustainable.

The Challenge: Find Your Doorman This Week

Here's your challenge.

Identify one "inefficient" thing you've been cutting or avoiding because it doesn't seem productive.

Maybe it's:

• Having coffee with a team member
• Taking a full lunch break with your crew
• Spending 10 extra minutes with a customer
• Checking in with someone just to see how they're doing
• Acknowledging someone's work in a way that takes more than a quick "good job"

Do it this week.

Not because it's efficient.

Because it's valuable.

Then notice what happens—not immediately, but over time.

Reply With Your Doorman

I want to know what you're protecting.

Hit reply and tell me:

What's one "inefficient" thing you're going to stop cutting and start protecting this week?

One sentence. One doorman.

Let's see who's ready to lead for the long game.

⚔ The Dojo Drill

Today’s training:

The Brotherhood Drill

Invite someone to:

• coffee
• training
• conversation

Strong men build strong circles.

📚 Leader’s Library

Book I recommend this week:

​The Tao of Jeet Kune Do by Bruce Lee​

Why?

Because it's a rare opportunity to get inside the head of a master martial artist and philosopher.

P.S. Know a martial arts gym owner who’s stressed about money or student numbers?

Do them a favor: send them to The Leader's dōjō 武士道場, my free Skool where I help owners get more students and keep them longer with simple systems.

One forward from you could change their gym: The Leader's dōjō 武士道場​

Chuck