Ty Sutherland - Management Skills Daily

Some of the worst management calls I ever made, I made on five hours of sleep. I can line them up now with a clear eye: the vendor contract I signed without reading the auto-renewal clause, the performance conversation I turned into a lecture, the reorg I announced a week before it was ready. Every one of them happened after a night in a hotel near a telecom switching site, or after a 3 a.m. outage call that never quite let me get back under. At the time I blamed the pressure, the timeline, the people around me. It took years to admit the common thread was me, running on a battery I never let recharge. For most of my career, sleep was the variable I treated as optional. I ran network operations in Saskatchewan with on-call rotations, then twenty-plus years in IT operations, and now fractional COO work where I walk into companies mid-crisis. In all of it, the culture rewarded the manager who answered at midnight and showed up at 7. What nobody measured was the cost of that manager making decisions the next afternoon with a brain that was, by any honest standard, impaired. The research on this is blunter than most managers want to hear. Sleep is not a wellness footnote. It is one of the largest uncontrolled variables in your leadership performance, and your team feels it before you do. The night before shows up in how you treat people The finding that changed how I think about this comes from Christopher Barnes, an organizational behavior researcher at the University of Washington. In a study titled "You Wouldn't Like Me When I'm Sleepy," Barnes and his colleagues tracked supervisors and their direct reports over ten working days. Supervisors logged their sleep each night. Their people, separately, rated abusive behavior each day: being belittled, having credit taken, getting snapped at. The pattern was clean. When a supervisor slept badly, their team reported more abusive behavior the next day. Poor sleep drained the manager's self-control, and with that reserve gone, the sharper, meaner version showed up. The employees had no idea how their boss had slept. They just felt the difference and, predictably, their engagement dropped. Read that again, because it is the part that matters most. Your team does not see your sleep. They see the behavior that follows it. You feel tired; they feel managed by someone who is short, impatient, and quick to judge. You get to explain it away as a rough morning. They just experience it as who you are. Barnes found something else worth flagging: sleep quality mattered more than raw hours. Six broken hours punctuated by an outage page did more damage than six solid ones. If you are the manager who keeps the phone on the nightstand so you never miss anything, you are trading the wrong thing away. Tired leaders stop being able to inspire The self-control cost is only half of it. In a separate study, "Too Tired to Inspire or Be Inspired," Barnes and co-authors looked at charisma, the ability to project the energy and conviction that gets people to move. Sleep-deprived leaders were rated as less charismatic by the people they were trying to lead. The mechanism was emotional labor. Projecting genuine enthusiasm takes energy, and a depleted leader cannot manufacture it. The performance falls flat, and people read the flatness as a lack of belief. There is an irony in that study I have watched play out in real companies. The manager works longer hours to signal commitment, sacrifices sleep to do it, and in the process erodes the exact quality, the visible conviction, that made the extra hours worth signaling in the first place. The same study found tired followers rated their leaders as less inspiring too. Push your team into the same sleep-starved state and you lose the effect from both directions. None of this is subtle biology. Researchers have found that four consecutive nights of only five hours of sleep produces cognitive performance deficits comparable to a blood alcohol content of 0.06, past the legal driving limit in much of the country. You would never chair a budget review after two drinks. Plenty of managers do the cognitive equivalent every Thursday and call it a normal week. What sleep debt actually costs a decision When I stopped treating sleep as optional, I started noticing the specific ways a tired brain fails, and they are not random. A scoping review published in 2025 pulled together twenty-five studies covering more than 2,000 participants and found sleep deprivation reliably impairs decision-making, with a consistent lean toward riskier choices. Sleep loss degrades risk assessment, cognitive flexibility, and the patience to sit with a problem instead of grabbing the first exit. That maps precisely onto how bad management decisions go wrong. You take the risky shortcut because the careful path feels like too much effort. You default to the answer you already had instead of updating on new information, because updating is expensive and you are broke. You read a neutral email as a threat because your emotional regulation is the first system to brown out. I have made all three of those errors, and in hindsight the sleep was upstream of every one. This is also why I think decision fatigue and sleep belong in the same conversation. A day of dozens of small choices depletes you, and starting that day already depleted from a bad night means you hit the wall by early afternoon instead of late. Your cognitive load does not reset overnight if the overnight never actually happened. The numbers are not a rounding error If you need the macro picture to take this seriously, RAND Europe put a price on it: insufficient sleep costs the U.S. economy up to $411 billion a year, roughly 2.28 percent of GDP, through absenteeism and presenteeism, people at their desks working at half capacity. RAND estimated that if workers currently sleeping under six hours moved to between six and seven, the economy would gain $226 billion. That gap is not built from dramatic breakdowns. It is built from millions of ordinary managers making slightly worse decisions all day long. And the trend is going the wrong way. A 2024 Gallup poll found that 57 percent of U.S. adults say they would feel better with more sleep, the first time a majority said so since Gallup began asking in 2001. Only 25 percent get a full eight hours; 20 percent get five or fewer. Stress and sleep move together in the data, with 63 percent of those wanting more sleep reporting frequent stress against 31 percent of those getting enough. If you manage people, most of your team is in the sleep-deprived, stressed majority, and so, statistically, are you. Treating rest as a management responsibility I am not going to hand you a sleep-hygiene checklist. You have read it, and it is not a management article. What I changed was the framing, and the framing is what actually moved anything. The phone came off the nightstand. On-call moved to a rotation so the whole weight of every 3 a.m. page did not land on one person, me, night after night. I stopped treating the manager who answered at midnight as the committed one, because I had learned what that manager cost the team at 2 the next afternoon. When I do fractional COO work now and a founder brags about four hours of sleep, I hear a risk indicator, not a virtue. That founder is making the company's biggest decisions in the impaired state the research describes, and everyone downstream is absorbing the consequences. The practical shift is small and it is this: put your own sleep on the same list as your team's staffing and your quarter's budget, because it belongs there. A boundary around your evenings is not self-indulgence; it is protecting the instrument you make every decision with. Shutting the workday down properly so your brain stops running is not softness; it is what lets the recovery happen at all. The manager who protects their sleep is not slacking. They are showing up the next morning with the self-control to not snap at the person who deserves patience, the flexibility to change their mind when the facts change, and the energy to make the case for a direction worth following. Your team cannot see the eight hours. But they have been feeling the five for a long time, and they know the difference better than you do.