In April 2026, the Artemis II was launched for an historic 10-day mission to evaluate human flight worthiness in deep space (ie, the area past the Moon’s orbit.)
Spoiler alert: It was a magnificent success!
Plot twist: I cried during the launch and splashdown. I can’t help it. I’m a proud former NASA engineer, and a self-proclaimed NASA geek.
I spent almost 14 years there as a propulsion engineer, working with jet engines rather than rockets. (But jet propulsion and rocket propulsion are close enough that I can legitimately call myself a rocket scientist. I’m keeping that title.)
So when Artemis II took humans around the Moon again, I was glued to it. And now that the Artemis III mission is in preparation, I’m circling back to it. Pun intended.
And it got me thinking about something I see all the time with really smart, accomplished people.
Imagine telling an Artemis astronaut, “Wait. You’ve never done this before!”
Well…yeah. That’s kind of the point.
Yet we say some version of that to ourselves all the time.
- “I’ve never managed a team this big.”
- “I’ve never had this much responsibility.”
- “I’ve never presented to the board.”
- “I’ve never done a project like this.”
All perfectly reasonable observations.
But then our brains do this sneaky little thing. We add a conclusion that the evidence doesn’t support:
“So maybe I’m not ready.”
Aha.
That’s where impostor syndrome can get expensive.
It’s not that you suddenly lost your skills. It’s not that your previous accomplishments disappeared. And it’s certainly not that somebody accidentally put you on the launch pad.
You have evidence.
The problem is that in a high-stakes moment, you stop trusting it.
At NASA, we didn’t test an engine by asking whether we felt confident about it. We looked at data. Lots and lots and LOTS of data. (Engineers love data.)
We knew the operating envelope. We knew what had already been demonstrated. We knew what we were trying to learn next. And sometimes, we deliberately pushed beyond the existing envelope.
That’s actually where the expression “push the envelope” comes from.
Here’s the connection I can’t stop thinking about:
High performers often mistake the edge of their experience for the edge of their capability.
Those are not the same thing.
You may never have done this before. But what have you done?
What problems have you solved? What decisions have you made? What difficult conversations have you navigated? What have you learned quickly? What happened the last time you thought, “I have no idea what I’m doing,” and somehow figured it out anyway?
That’s evidence.
And evidence matters, especially when your feelings are telling you something completely different.
If you lead a team, look around. Some of your most capable people are standing at the edge of their experience right now, mistaking it for the edge of their capability.
That hesitation isn’t harmless. It shows up as slower decisions, quieter meetings, and stretch assignments nobody raises a hand for. I call it Refusal, and interrupting it is exactly what my protocol, The Propulsion Principle™ was built to do.
If you’re seeing it on your team, let’s talk.
