Sergeant Weinberg, Just Let the Trains Collide

I actually had that advice given to me by a senior officer, and frankly, it’s one of the safest, and worst pieces of advice I’ve ever received. Safe, because it avoids risk, but terrible because it avoids responsibility.

At the time, I was a reservist on a temporary assignment, having rejoined the service post-9/11 as a weekend warrior while also teaching as a professor in my civilian life. Back then, I had — well, I still have — a knack for spotting when the “trains” were going to go off the rails. And I couldn’t help but try to stop those crashes.

Apparently, that was frowned upon.

I really do understand why the officer gave me that advice. They weren’t telling me to “let the trains collide” out of laziness or malice. For them, it was about career survival, and from their perspective, the advice worked — stay quiet, avoid risk, keep your head down, and cruise through to 20 years of service. They had a safe, steady career from service academy to retirement, sustained by hard work, but protected by silence.

Your People Are Not Broken

But here’s the thing: the fact that they felt they had to give me that advice wasn’t a failure on their part, and I genuinely don’t blame them. It was a failure of the system they were in. There is a failure when people think it’s safer to let disaster unfold than to make waves. Your people aren't broken; the system is.

Fortunately, I had the benefit of being a reservist. My rank didn’t define me — I had a whole career outside of the military. I didn’t need to worry about risking it all by speaking up, because when I took off the uniform, I was still Professor Weinberg. That’s a luxury a lot of people don’t have, whether they’re in the military or working in corporate offices, schools, or nonprofits. For many, every major decision feels like it has their entire career riding on it. Again, that’s not on them; that’s on the system that makes people feel like they can’t speak up without risking everything.

Set Fear and Ego Aside

Now that I’m in a senior position, this weighs on me even more. It’s not just about encouraging juniors to speak up when they see the trains about to collide — it’s about making sure they know they have to. As senior leaders, it’s our responsibility to make it crystal clear that anyone under our command or supervision can pull the brakes when things are about to go sideways. They need to know that if they raise a hand to stop disaster, we’ll listen, and the weight of the organization won’t come crashing down on them for it. If they don’t feel safe enough to step up and stop a disaster, that’s on us.

To the senior personnel reading this — when someone under you does speak up, listen. Make sure they feel supported, not silenced. That’s how you build a strong team, a strong organization, a strong force. Because if we don’t create that environment, we’re not doing our jobs.

And junior folks, it’s okay to be afraid when you see trouble ahead. But stand up anyway, because doing what's right, and earning trust and respect in the long-run always beats doing what’s easy in the moment.

Whatever you do, do not let those trains collide.