Every dive starts with a buddy check.

Every dive starts with a buddy check.

Air on. Releases clear. Mask sealed. Weight secure.

You don't skip it because you're experienced. You do it because experience taught you what happens when you don't.

At depth, a loose strap becomes a crisis. A sticky valve becomes a decision you shouldn't have to make.

So divers check each other. Every time. No exceptions for the senior diver. No shortcuts for the one who's "done this a thousand times."

In leadership, we skip this entirely.

The more competent you become, the less anyone checks on you. Silence gets mistaken for strength. Track record becomes an excuse for everyone to stop watching.

I learned this the hard way on a dive off Durban.

My team left me behind at 60 metres. Not because they were careless. Because they assumed I couldn't possibly have a problem.

They were wrong.

The strongest performers often get the least support. Not because people don't care. But because competence makes you invisible when you need help most.

I see this in business all the time.

High performers carrying weight no one asks about. Capable people quietly signalling. While everyone assumes they're fine.

A buddy check isn't about doubting ability. It's about refusing to let experience turn into isolation.

So I'll ask you this.

Who's checking your gear?

And when did you last let them?