The Peter Principle of rising to one's level of incompetence

In the grand league of career ladders, we have a weird rule: you get promoted for being good at your current job, not the next one. It’s like taking a star full-forward who just kicked ten goals and making him the head coach the next morning.

The logic is a total foul. You keep climbing as long as you’re winning, until you eventually land in a role where you’re completely out of your depth.

Since you’re no longer 'best on ground,' the promotions stop. You’re stuck in a position you can’t handle, effectively filling every office on earth with people who have finally reached their level of incompetence.

Wait, if everyone is incompetent, how does any work actually get done?

It’s a miracle the stadium lights stay on, right? The secret is that the heavy lifting is done by the people still climbing the ladder—the ones who are still actually good at their jobs because they haven't been promoted out of them yet.

Think of it as the rising stars and the reliable mid-fielders keeping the score moving while the veterans in the coaching box are busy drawing plays they don't understand. The system survives on the competence of those who haven't hit their ceiling.

It’s a constant cycle. You’ve got a core group of high-performers doing the real work before the reward of a promotion pulls them into a role where they’ll eventually fumble the ball.

But why would any coach move a star player out of their winning position?

It sounds like a no-brainer—keep your best kicker in the forward pocket. But in the corporate league, the only way to give someone a bigger paycheck is to change their jersey and move them to the front office.

If you tell a star they’re staying put because they’re "too good," they’ll feel benched. They’ll jump to a rival club that promises a captaincy, even if they're a rubbish leader.

We’ve rigged the game so "success" only means "moving up." We can't seem to reward mastery without forcing people into management—a totally different ball game.

Could we just pay them more and let them keep playing?

It sounds like a winning play, but corporate salary caps are usually glued to the org chart. In the traditional league, the person calling the plays feels they must be the highest-paid person in the huddle.

If a specialist earns more than their manager, it creates a massive "ego foul." It flips the power dynamic, making it awkward for the boss to lead when the subordinate has more financial muscle.

We’ve built a system where "value" is measured by how many people you sit on top of, rather than how many goals you actually kick.

So, can we just build a second ladder for the specialists?

Modern leagues are subbing in a "dual career ladder." It creates parallel tracks: one for coaches who manage, and one for elite specialists who just want to play at a world-class level.

A "Principal Specialist" can pull a paycheck as heavy as a Vice President’s without ever approving a vacation request. They get the status and the gold without the clipboard.

But it’s a hard play for traditional firms. They’re often addicted to a "command and control" vibe, unable to reward stars who aren't barking orders from the sidelines.