You Think You're the Engine. You're the Bottleneck.

There was a camp director who prided himself on being available. His door was always open. His phone was always on. Every question, no matter how small, got his attention. A counselor needed to know which bus a camper was on? He answered. The kitchen needed to confirm Tuesday's menu? He confirmed. A parent wanted to know if sunscreen was reapplied after swimming? He personally called back.

He wasn't delegating. He was absorbing.

His staff loved him for it, at first. He was responsive, caring, present. But over time, something shifted. Staff stopped making decisions on their own. They stopped checking the bus list themselves. They stopped trusting their own judgment on the small stuff. Why would they? The director would handle it. He always did.

By midsummer, nothing moved without him. He was answering forty texts before breakfast. He ate lunch standing up, usually in the office, usually on the phone. He looked exhausted. His assistant director looked bored.

He thought he was the engine. He was actually the bottleneck.

The Accidental Diminisher

Researcher Liz Wiseman spent years studying more than 150 leaders across four continents, trying to understand why some leaders amplify the intelligence of the people around them while others seem to drain it. She calls the first group Multipliers and the second group Diminishers.

Here's the uncomfortable part. Most Diminishers don't mean to be. Wiseman found that roughly two-thirds of diminishing behavior comes from leaders with good intentions. She calls them Accidental Diminishers.

One of the most common types is the Rescuer. This is the leader who genuinely wants to help, who doesn't like to see people struggle or fail. At the first sign of difficulty, they jump in. They solve the problem. They feel good about it. But Wiseman's research revealed something important: when a leader rescues too often and too quickly, people around them become dependent. They stop trying to solve problems on their own. They stop growing. The leader's helpfulness becomes a ceiling on the team's capability.

Wiseman's data showed that Diminishers get less than half of their team's intelligence and capability. Multipliers get nearly all of it. The difference isn't talent. It's approach. Multipliers believe their people are smart and will figure things out. Diminishers, often without realizing it, believe people can't figure things out without them.

That camp director? He was a textbook Rescuer. Every answered text was a small act of kindness that sent a larger message: you need me for this.

The Question That Changes Everything

In The Campfire Effect, Lisa runs a tech team. She stands at the whiteboard like a general, solving every problem her team brings her. She feels indispensable. She feels like the engine.

Then she realizes the truth. By answering every question, she has taught her team a dangerous lesson: they don't need to think. They just need to ask Lisa.

So she tries something radical. The next time someone comes to her with a problem she knows the answer to, she bites her tongue. Instead of solving it, she asks a single question: "What do you intend to do?"

That question does something powerful. It shifts ownership. It tells the other person, I trust your judgment. It forces them to think before they speak, to come with a recommendation instead of a request. And it creates a new pattern: people start solving problems before they ever reach the leader's desk.

This is what Wiseman calls the shift from being a "Know-It-All" to being a "Challenger." The Know-It-All operates within the limits of their own knowledge. The Challenger draws out the intelligence of the people around them. One approach creates followers who wait for instructions. The other creates thinkers who take initiative.

What This Looks Like at Camp

At camp, the bottleneck problem shows up everywhere. The program director who personally approves every schedule change. The head counselor who handles every parent complaint instead of coaching unit leaders to handle them. The office manager who is the only person who knows how to run the registration software.

Every one of these situations feels like dedication. Every one of them is actually a single point of failure.

One thing you could try this week: track every decision that crosses your desk. At the end of the week, circle the ones that only you could make. Be honest. The list will probably be shorter than you expect. Everything else is an opportunity. An opportunity to train someone, to trust someone, or to simply stay quiet long enough for someone else to step up.

The strongest teams aren't the ones with the most capable leader. They're the ones where capability is spread across the entire group. Where the assistant director can run the show if you're out sick. Where the head counselor doesn't need permission to solve a problem they've solved a dozen times before.

You don't become less important when your team can function without you. You become the kind of leader who built something that lasts.

So the next time someone walks into your office with a question you could answer in two seconds, try pausing. Try asking, "What do you intend to do?"

You might be surprised how smart your team already is, once you stop answering for them.

About the Author

Matt Kaufman has spent 40 years in summer camp as a camper, counselor, and director, studying what makes people belong, grow, and thrive. He writes about intentional community, leadership, and the intersection of technology and human connection.

Connect with Matt:

• Instagram: @mattlovescamp

• LinkedIn: Matt Kaufman

• Website: ilove.camp

Books by Matt Kaufman:

• The Campfire Effect: How to Engineer Belonging in a Disconnected World

• The Summer Camp MBA: 50 Leadership Lessons from Camp to Career