What happens when the desire to reach the top clouds leaders' judgment?

On May 10, 1996, two groups of mountaineers embarked on the final ascent to the highest point on the planet: Mount Everest. Among them were renowned guides, experienced clients, and novices willing to pay tens of thousands of dollars to touch the sky. What began as a dream adventure ended in tragedy. Five people died, others were seriously injured, and the world of leadership received one of its harshest lessons.

But this story isn't just about snow and mountains. It's about us. About how we make decisions when we're tired, pressured, or blinded by a goal.

[1] Based on Roberto, MA, & Carioggia, GM (2002). Mount Everest—1996. Harvard Business School Case Study, 9-303.

[2] Text prepared with the support of ChatGPT, OpenAI, 2025

[3] A climber ascending a mountain in winter. Photo by kbarzycki. Adobe Stock, image #250082678. Educational license acquired by Indiana University East. Accessed April 9, 2025.

Two leaders, two styles

Rob Hall and Scott Fischer were two renowned guides. Serious, experienced, and charismatic. Their clients trusted them completely. Each led their own commercial expedition, with people who had hired them to help them reach the summit safely.

Both were strong leaders. Rob, more structured and protective. Scott, more flexible and confident in the group's abilities. But as the altitude increased, so did the pressure. Oxygen became scarce. Time was running out. And what should have been a team effort began to unravel into individual decisions, awkward silences, and ignored warning signs.

When biases become deadly

At the summit of Everest, there's no room for error. But humans aren't machines. And that day, biases took over:

Overconfidence : Hall and Fischer were so confident in their experience that they downplayed the real risks.
Summit fever : Everyone had invested too much—time, money, reputation—to come back without a summit photo.
Sunk cost : “We’re already here. We’ve already climbed so high. We can’t go back now.”
Lack of psychological safety : Some guides and clients saw signs of danger… but no one dared to challenge the leader.

Meanwhile, weather conditions changed. The clock ticked. And many ignored a golden rule of climbing: if you don't reach the summit by a certain time, you must turn back. Period.

That day, almost no one turned around.

The storm… and the fall

When the storm hit, everything was in confusion. Interfering radios. Exhausted oxygen. Disoriented people. Late decisions. And a mountain that, as always, is unforgiving.

Five people died, including both leaders. Several others were left permanently scarred, both physically and emotionally.

What can we learn from those of us who don't climb mountains?

More than meets the eye. This case is studied at universities around the world because it reflects how leadership under pressure, cognitive biases, and group dynamics can make the difference between success and disaster .

Some lessons for the road:

Leadership is not just about having a clear vision, but knowing when to change it.
Listening to uncomfortable voices can save lives.
Leading is also knowing when to stop.
And most importantly: no summit is worth more than the lives of those who accompany you.

So the next time you're on your own personal "mountain"—in a difficult meeting, on a project that's spiraling out of control, or in the middle of a personal decision—ask yourself:

Am I going up because I have to… or because I don’t know how to get back?