Ackerman’s Axioms: A Field Guide to Psychological Safety and Decision-Making

At the beginning of every new working relationship — especially with project managers or team leads — I lay my cards on the table. I call them Ackerman's Axioms.

They’re not rules; they’re reminders. A chain of reasoning that explains why safety is not a luxury in leadership — it’s the foundation. I usually say it like this:

In order to lead effectively, I need to make good decisions.
In order to make good decisions, I need the best information available.
In order to have the best information available, I need you to feel comfortable sharing your honest perspectives.
In order for you to share your honest perspectives, you need to trust that it’s safe for you to do so.
I know we don’t know each other yet, but I’m asking for the opportunity to earn that trust — and this is my first step.

That’s the frame. And it matters more the higher up the chain of command you go.

Leadership Shrinks as It Scales

The higher you move in an organization, the less ability you have to shape things directly. You’re not coding, you’re not configuring, you’re not closing tickets. Your hands-on levers disappear.

What remains? Two things:

Communication. The ability to transmit intent clearly and consistently.
Judgment. The ability to make decisions when the inputs are incomplete, messy, and contradictory.

Sometimes that means listening deeply. Sometimes it means challenging directly. Sometimes it means being the shield and sword that defends the team. But always, it comes down to judgment — and judgment is only as good as the truth you’re working with.

Power Magnifies the Person

Power doesn’t change you. It magnifies you. Your strengths, your weaknesses, your blind spots.

And here’s the problem: the higher you rise, the more people are incentivized to suck up. If you so much as signal — even unconsciously — that you don’t want to hear bad news, people will stop bringing it to you.

That’s the silent killer of organizations. The truth gets smothered under comfort. The information you need is still out there, but it never reaches your desk.

So the job of a leader is to make it unmistakably safe to challenge you. If you don’t, you’re creating truth debt - and sooner or later, that debt must be paid.

“Don’t Bring Me Problems”? Nonsense.

I tell people straight up: I’m not one of those “don’t bring me problems, bring me solutions” leaders.

Bring me problems. That’s what I’m here for.

If you have a solution - I'll support you. If it’s a problem you should already know how to solve, I’ll coach you. If it’s a thorny mess, we’ll wrestle with it together. Over time, we’ll norm on judgment so that you’ll know which calls you can make independently and which ones need daylight. And over time, you'll need me less and less.

That's not a bug - that's a feature. We rise together.

My best working relationships are with people who feel free to bring me anything — even their mistakes. Especially their mistakes. Because mistakes called out and owned are the building blocks of trust.

What worries me isn’t the mistake you made — it’s the mistake you didn’t see. If I catch it and you didn’t, that means we got lucky. And luck is not a strategy.

Or even worse - the mistake you didn't make, because you were too afraid to act.

Save Me From Myself

Ken Blanchard says, “None of us is as smart as all of us.” I believe that.

I often tell my teams: “Save me from myself.”

I know my judgment is fallible. I know I can miss things, get tunnel vision, or overcommit. The worst disasters in history — Challenger, Columbia, Deepwater Horizon — weren’t technical failures. They were communication failures. Someone saw the warning signs, but it wasn’t safe to pull the fire alarm.

So I build it into the culture: pull the fire alarm. You will not get punished for telling the truth. You will get thanked.

Self-Regulation Is Part of the Job

Here’s something leaders don’t talk about enough: self-regulation.

If you walk around like a time bomb, you’re teaching your team to walk on eggshells. And eggshells are where truth goes to die.

The hallmark of a great leader is not brilliance. It’s not charisma. It’s the ability to master your own emotions so your team doesn’t have to carry it for you.

Because the truth is what you need to lead successfully. You can’t fly a plane without instruments. You can’t drive without visibility. And you can’t lead without truth.

So when someone tells you bad news? Say thank you. Say it out loud. Mean it. Because what you just received wasn’t bad news — it was a gift. It was clarity. And clarity is the fuel of leadership.

One day, you may find yourself in a place where someone takes a risk to share something that spells disaster — and you still have the chance to do something about it. Such are the rewards of psychological safety.

The Axioms in Practice

Leaders make decisions. That’s the essence of the job.
Decisions require truth. Without it, judgment collapses.
Truth requires safety. People must feel safe to speak it.
Safety is built, not assumed. It’s earned through words, consistency, and self-regulation.

The takeaway: Leadership isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about creating the conditions where the answers can surface — even if they’re inconvenient, uncomfortable, or challenging to your authority. Ackerman’s Axioms are my way of making that responsibility explicit.