An Engineer’s Guide to Perfectionism

Chances are, you’re a perfectionist. You don’t have to be an engineer to get curious about letting go of perfectionism as it’s part of the human experience. Not all engineers are perfectionists but all perfectionists will go above and beyond to seek THE perfect strategy. The strategy that attempts to engineer a lot of control and certainty around how they are perceived and the outcomes of the spaces and places with which they live and lead.

I went to school for automotive repair, mechanical engineering and math so it’s safe to say that I enjoy understanding how things work or why they don’t. And I also have two big fears - an airplane crash and public speaking. Ironically, both of those fears are a regular part of my career.

I would like to think my commitment to letting go of perfectionistic traits is a function of having an awareness of how things work. But I sometimes wonder if the career I chose exacerbated my need to be perfect. It turns out, I was wrong, the fear of not fitting in was and has been a real issue for me; being an engineer just gave me a title to hide behind.

I often ask seasoned engineers and leaders about the idea of perfection and what it means to them and their work. I hear things like…

  • “It’s a reasonable standard.”

  • “It’s the end goal of our work and our profession’s mission.”

  • “It’s important to be perfect, it means we got it right.”

  • “It’s a good work ethic.”

  • “We should all be aspiring to be that and for our work to reflect that.”

  • “It’s a reflection of our work because the engineer is always right and does not make mistakes.”

  • “It’s what my employer expects of me.”

As I think about this list and the conversations I’ve had with people about perfection, I have so much faith in the profession I chose as an engineer and the people who are within it. Because it appears that engineers believe that perfection is mission-critical.

That’s awesome, especially if I’m on that airplane that was just built because I deeply care about perfection on airplanes. Deeply. I want to be on THE perfect airplane when I’m traveling.

So let’s go down an engineering rabbit hole for a minute.

The engine is probably the most important component of an airplane. When an engine fails, the extra one is for redundancy purposes. One engine will provide enough thrust if one fails but landing is imminent, as there is no backup source for thrust after one fails.

Basically, the function of an engine and its turbine is similar to a fan in your home. The blades spin on a fixed axis and once you turn it on - poof - you have wonderful cooling airflow on a hot summer day.

An engine turbine is similar but is opposite. The air that is drawn in by the turbine blades is compressed and combusted and the superheated air continues to drive components that rotate inside the turbine. The reason components rotate is primarily because of 3 things. A shaft, a bearing and some sort of force that is exerted on the shaft which encourages the rotation. The bearing is static (fixed) and the shaft rotates at a high rate of speed along with anything else attached to it, similar to how your fan blades spin that are attached to the shaft on your house fan.

Engine turbine photo credit: https://www.grc.nasa.gov/www/k-12/UEET/StudentSite/engines.html

The shaft and bearing have design specifications that enable them to come together (mate) effectively. The technical terminology that engineers are concerned with is called “tolerances.”

Essentially, manufacturers can produce a shaft and have it be a little bit larger or a little bit smaller in diameter but it has to be within a certain range also known as, “specification limits.” If the shaft is over spec, too large or too small, it won’t fit into the diameter of the bearing correctly and all hell will break loose. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to be on THAT airplane. Not only do I care about a perfect airplane, I care deeply about specification limits and tolerances. Deeply.

Since no one, (aside from engineers who are reading this and are totally wanting to correct me on something I’ve said wrong already - I SEE YOU), came to read about this whole technical process of turbines and bearings and more, let me help you see the importance of the context above.

Since bearings and shafts have different manufacturing processes, the tolerances of the two materials enable them to work together - because one is not too big or too small.

So technically, they aren’t perfect - they are not over or under their spec limits, they are within their tolerances.

This matters. Simply because it is impossible to make a perfect part let alone make it the same exact way, every single time. Tolerances give the equipment, processes, and employees some grace and flexibility to make the shafts and bearings to be tolerant and still function consistently, reliably and safely.

So you can see, without tolerances and specification limits, there will not be spinning fan blades or engine turbines. Non-engineers take this for granted every day but engineers take this seriously, as we should.

But, I’m wondering about the importance of tolerances and specification limits when it comes to the human condition.

If accepted perfection, regarding shafts and bearings, requires tolerances and specification limits, where is this same requirement for perfection in the human condition?

I’ve watched so many people, myself included, strive for perfection in everything they do. From speeches and projects to presentations and leadership, to marriages and fitness routines.

The unrelenting need to be perfect, look perfect, speak perfectly, and perform perfectly, it’s everywhere and it’s burning us out and in some cases, killing us. Literally.

I know I am struggling with perfectionism when it takes me 3 hours to send a 3 sentence email. When I pack 10 outfits for by business trip of 1 day. When I spend days perfecting what I am going to say to ensure that the exact right word is used at the exact right time.

There is no such thing as a perfect presentation, perfect leader or perfect human. We can always be better and do better, of course, but this blatant lack of tolerance for imperfection requires some reconciliation.

I’m wondering, if we took the time to get curious about the relationship with perfection and the lack of connection and authenticity in our lives, what would we find?

If there is no perfect bearing, no perfect shaft, no perfect airplane turbine, why such a high standard for being human? I think about this question a lot. In fact, it’s the question that has helped me address the true root cause of my perfectionism. The fear of not fitting in and shame.

Had you told me there was no perfect airplane 25 years ago, I would not have boarded ANY planes. But the truth is, there are bearings, shafts and turbines that are imperfect but within tolerance and spec limits. And that is enough. That IS the standard.

So if engineering tolerances are normal and acceptable, why can’t we apply more tolerance to ourselves or others as well?

As leaders and humans, we have limitations and that is ok. It is functional and as it turns out, normal. And, it is normal to have some operating limitations as a leader. I like to think of these limitations as boundaries. The line you cannot cross unless you want all hell to break loose; similar to not achieving the spec limit on the shaft or bearing.

For example, it is ok for my team to reach out and ask me questions after hours but I will not guarantee a response. Just as I would not expect one from you. Honoring my need to disconnect from work is important and I have some limitations on how long I will work.

I used to be a 24/7 kind of leader because I was so afraid that if I wasn’t, it would appear that I didn’t know what I was doing and I had to have all the info - looking perfect, or at least giving that optic to my team and to my boss, was a big deal to me. I’ve learned I cannot function well with that mindset anymore, my mental health took a hit and so did my relationships because all I ever did was work.

Letting go of looking perfect and grinding nonstop has now become a boundary for me. The expectation that I am failure-free, always available and “on” all the time was unreasonable and had to be reconciled.

But I had to acknowledge it first and more importantly, stop judging myself for that.

My self-judgment was also showing up as judgment toward others. The higher the standard I placed on myself ended up being a recipe for higher standards on others. And every time I failed, I judged myself even more. Which just activated my need to be more perfect. This also meant that everyone else was about to be on the receiving end of my judgment as a result of this unhelpful cycle and hustle. Here’s what it sounded like: “If I can do it better, faster and more efficient, then dammit, so can you. Suck it up.”

I also have a boundary now on how much emotional offloading or avoidance I can handle as a leader. While it is my responsibility to be aware and own my emotional impact on my team, it is not my responsibility to own their emotions or feel responsible for how they feel. It’s also hard on me when people avoid hard conversations with me. While some people are more patient and tolerant of ups and downs, I can struggle when team members or colleagues lack consistency, emotional regulation or engage in avoidant behavior. That is something I had to become aware of and ask for support as it can often invite a perfectionism cycle of people pleasing on my end.

At the end of the day, I had to become more tolerant and accepting of my needs so that I could start putting in boundaries or support systems to help me function more consistently, reliably and effectively.

What was interesting, is that once I recognized that the unreasonable standard of high expectations I have put on myself to be perfect was not sustainable or achievable, it created more space for acceptance and grace toward myself. And then I stopped offloading my unreasonable expectation of perfection on my team or others.

Boeing Dreamline 787 Engine

Boeing Dreamliner 787 Engine

More importantly, I could not do for others what I was unwilling to do for myself first.

Every time I am willing to let go of controlling the outcome and the perception of “what people think of me,” I am owning a bit more of myself and my authenticity. This is a big deal, especially when letting people see behind the engineering title felt vulnerable. But every time I did, the more connected I felt, with others and with myself.

Thank goodness for imperfect airplanes - this awareness has helped me see that a good enough airplane engine, built by good enough engineers is enough. I’m good enough and so is my work product, even when I’m not operating at 100%, which transfers to everyone else as a result. At the end of the day, I am imperfect but functional, tolerant and within specification limits. And from what I’ve learned so far, makes me way more tolerant to work with and work for.

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