Back in the bad old days of Ancient Greece, the craftsman Daedelus and his son Icarus were imprisoned by King Minos. To escape, Daedelus built wings from feathers, leather straps, and wax. He warned Icarus: don’t fly too low or the sea will ruin your feathers. Don’t fly too high or the sun will melt the wax.

But Icarus got excited. He climbed higher and higher until the sun melted his wings. He fell into the sea and drowned.

The moral of the story: Don’t be too ambitious.

When I was young, this story fascinated me and it made me sad. Maybe even angry.

I identified with Icarus. It was unfair that he lost his life doing what seems like the most obvious thing to do with wings—fly. My instinct would have been the same: Fly as high as I could, just to see what was there.

And it wasn’t just the accident that seemed unfair. It was the moral I hated: Don’t fly too high—or you’ll deserve what you get.

Reading it again, my perspective hasn’t changed. Except this time, if I rewrote the story, the moral would be: Build better wings.

The Lessons We Learn in the Icarus Effect

I meet many leaders who’ve flown high and then crashed. They caught a big opportunity but couldn’t sustain it. Things got too complex, too fast, too stressful. Maybe they made a critical mistake.

And then—they never try again.

A $7M company had a $14M year. But in the rush to deliver, they forgot to feed their pipeline. They had no systems. No management team. All decisions rolled up to the owner. He (and everyone else) was overwhelmed. They crashed.

When I met them, they swore growth was impossible. Not just growth, that specific number, $14M had taken on symbolic meaning. To them, that was “too close to the sun.”

Another company doubled from $25M to $50M. No clear roles. No defined systems. No staffing for scale. Their record year was so stressful it felt like trauma. They dropped back down to $25M. Just mentioning “$50M” made the management team visibly tense.

Eventually, they grew back towards $50M—this time with systems and staff in place. But as they approached that number, they started riding the brake. $50M feels less like a milestone to them and more like the burning hot sun.

I call this the Icarus Effect: the learned belief that a certain level of success is unsustainable, maybe even dangerous, and should be avoided.

Build Better Wings for Breakthrough Growth

These companies didn’t crash because they flew too high. They crashed because their wings weren’t built for altitude.

Here’s what better wings often look like:

• A strong management team with clearly defined roles

• An operational playbook: SOPs, systems, handoff processes

• A reliable, consistent sales pipeline

• The right people, in the right roles, at the right time

• Supply chain readiness

Your “better wings” might be some of these—or something else. But they exist.

Why Leaders Rarely Recognize the Icarus Effect

Leaders don’t usually say, “That level of success scares me.” What they think (or say) is:

• We won’t be able to make the sales.

• If we do, it’ll be too stressful to keep up.

• We’ll never find the people.

• We can’t sustain the pace.

• What if we grow—and lose it?

It’s not the market telling them to fly lower. It’s their own memory of crashing.

The Real Lesson of the Icarus Effect

Icarus is a myth.

In real life, we survive crashes. And if we’re paying attention, we can learn. We can rebuild. And next time, we can fly farther—because we built better wings.

Don’t listen to the voices that say, “Don’t fly too high.” That’s fear talking.

Do take the time to build better wings.

Take good care,
Christian