The Stockdale Paradox teaches us how to take the next step forward—just the next one, starting from where you are right now.
You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end—which you can never afford to lose —with the discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be. — James Stockdale
It was late fall in 2009, and I had gone out to the Buck Creek field for a walk.
As I passed the metal bleachers, it hit me. I remembered a passage I had read in a book many years prior that had resonated so powerfully with me, it made my hair stand on end. I knew the book held important clues. I ran home.
I burst through the front door, scanned the bookshelf for a bright red spine, and located Jim Collins’ Good to Great. I searched the index for the Stockdale Paradox and found the passage.
The Stockdale Paradox
Collins told the story of Admiral James Stockdale who was a POW during the Vietnam War. Collins notes, “It just seemed so bleak—the uncertainty of his fate, the brutality of his captors, and so forth…how on earth did he deal with it…?”
When Collins asked that very question directly to Stockdale, he replied, “I never doubted not only that I would get out, but also that I would prevail in the end and turn the experience into the defining event of my life, which, in retrospect, I would not trade.”
Collins followed with another question: “Who didn’t make it out?”
Stockdale replied:
“The optimists. Oh, they were the ones who said, ‘We’re going to be out by Christmas.’ And Christmas would come, and Christmas would go. Then they’d say, ‘We’re going to be out by Easter.’ And Easter would come, and Easter would go. And then Thanksgiving, and then it would be Christmas again. And they died of a broken heart….“
Stockdale continued, “This is a very important lesson. You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end—which you can never afford to lose—with the discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be.”

This is the Stockdale Paradox.
Facing the Reality of a Crisis
I closed the book with a slam, grabbed a legal pad and pen, and mapped out every brutal fact of my current situation. I got all the terrifying details down in black ink. When I stopped, took a breath, and read over my notes, I had three pages of blurts.
Intertwined. Seemingly impossible to overcome. No great choices.
But it was now out of my head and all stepped out in front of me. It was a good start.
Oddly, once I saw the scope of my challenges in their entirety, all in one place, I got a whiff of possibility for the first time in months. It had taken courage to face reality, extricate myself from the quicksand of denial, and let the veil drop. Now, standing naked and exposed, I could move into problem-solving mode.
Raw, frightened, but clear-minded and determined.
I tore out the yellow sheets and set them aside. I began grouping the blurts into categories on a fresh sheet of paper. I had categories for finances, business, legal, research, housing, and the one that took my breath away, children.
I kept going.
Once I had the blurts in categories, I came back with a different colored ink and began brainstorming next steps. I didn’t edit or hold back if I didn’t know how to do something. I just wrote down ideas for desired outcomes. I trusted I could figure out the details later.
When I couldn’t think of a next step for some of the categories, I simply wrote down, “Ask X for advice.” X was a trusted friend, an attorney, a family member, a colleague, or a confidant.
I encircled myself with wagons of talented humans and was no longer shy about asking for help.
When I stopped looking down and began looking up, I noticed ideas and solutions where before I had seen none. Resources, paths to pursue, and odd synchronicities began to appear.
I leaned into an energetic stance of surrender combined with a fierce pursuit of championing my circumstances.
I made a vow to craft my desired future into becoming reality and to never forget the lessons of abject fear, worry, and profound uncertainty.
And like Stockdale, once on the other side of the darkness, I, too, came to say that I would not trade that time nor its lessons for anything.
For entrepreneurs and creators, this mindset is oxygen.
We must believe—truly believe—that our work matters. That our vision has weight. That our persistence will bear fruit.
Trusting we will find a way through.
So what does this look like in practice?
It means sitting down, even when we don’t feel ready, and identifying one small, clear step forward.
It means talking to your team honestly about what’s not working.
It means reworking a product or service with fresh eyes.
Starting where we are, not where we wish we were.
By facing the facts and continuing to move, we build resilience. We prove to ourselves that progress is still possible, even in the middle of uncertainty.
When we hold steady belief in our ability to continue, and match it with a clear understanding of the challenges we face, we become the kind of leader who adapts and endures.
If you are in a season of challenge right now, and your mind is threatening to run off without you, devolving into doom loops of despair, take a pause and remember the Stockdale Paradox.
Get your worries out of your head and onto paper. Shed denial and embrace a clear vision of next steps.
Seek advice, consolation, and support.
Confront the brutal facts and never let go of the knowing that you will prevail.
The Stockdale Paradox isn’t just a wartime survival strategy—it’s a blueprint for navigating any crisis with both courage and clarity. When you find yourself in the thick of uncertainty, remember Admiral Stockdale’s wisdom: hold unshakeable faith in your ultimate success while simultaneously facing every difficult truth head-on. By embracing the Stockdale Paradox as your guiding principle, you transform this seeming contradiction into your compass, guiding you through the storm not with blind optimism, but with the kind of grounded hope that transforms obstacles into stepping stones toward the future you’re determined to create.