What Sport Teaches Us About Learning — and What Workplaces (and Sport) Still Need to Learn About Psychological Safety

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Above is the pod. Below is the blog. Same, same, but different. Listen, read, think about it.

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We often talk about professional sports and work as if they live in different universes. Being a professional athlete is the 'dream.' One is physical, competitive, high-adrenaline – fun. The other is cognitive, professional, and supposedly more controlled – not fun.

But at their core, leaders in sport and workplaces are trying to do the same thing and solve the same problem: How do adults learn, adapt, and perform under pressure without breaking down?

Sport has been forced to answer this question honestly. Their results are hyper-focused on, assessed, calculated, and reviewed regularly... by fans, post-game reviews, the media, sponsors... everyone really. Workplaces....yes, but less so. It's not a water cooler conversation in Michigan to reflect on the performance of Jerry from accounting at the Alabama office. There isn't a bracket pool for manufacturing facilities across the city. The investment (socially) in sport success is much higher and so the investment in performance is also higher. And now, sport itself is learning new lessons from adult learning theory and psychological safety – ahead of many workplaces.

But this isn't about going ga ga over sport – learning goes both ways.

What workplaces can learn from sport about adult learning

Learning is embodied, not theoretical. Yes, it's deep but not that deep. We can't just talk about learning, we have to feel it, think it, and act it. Talking about it equates to a failed new years resolution. "New year, new me"... as they're drinking their third beer and glutting on tailgate food. Everything in moderation – learning theory too. You can only talk the talk for so long. Eventually, you need to walk the walk too. In sport, learning is assumed to be physical and experiential. A basketball player doesn’t become better at defense by watching slides about footwork. A race car driver doesn’t improve by reading a manual alone.

They practice, they fail, they adjust, and then they review.

In contrast, many workplaces still expect adults to learn communication, leadership, or decision-making through passive instruction. There is a lot that plays into this and logistics is often blamed. Qualified trainers, time, money, scheduling, labour shortages... the list goes on. I've heard a million excuses as to why organizations don't have shadow training programs, longer training programs, integrated/application based training programs. This isn't just onboarding either – it's every training. Workplace Health and Safety... PowerPoint slides. WHIMIS... PowerPoint slides. Workplace Harassment and Discrimination... PowerPoint slides. Inclusive Workplaces... PowerPoint slides. Many workplaces simply sign people up for a course, send people to a workshop, give them a framework, and hope it transfers. This hope hurdles stressors, distractions, learning differences, applicability, and many other barriers that abstract learning has.

Sport shows us something important: If learning doesn’t resemble performance, it won’t survive performance.

Feedback beats instruction. Yes, it's a trial and error method. Yes, I understand that many workplaces cannot integrate this. Police can't replace firearms training with feedback first methods. But they can do it with traffic stops, community engagement, documentation and reporting, and many other facets of their roles that do require constant review and development.

Athletes receive feedback immediately: “You missed your mark.” “Your timing was off.” “That decision cost us position.”

It’s specific. It’s about behavior, not character. And it happens close to the moment of action. Behaviour versus character (or action versus the individual) is a key communication strategy that supports the psychological safety of someone. They aren't the problem, what they did is. It supports the understanding that we are products of our environment: school, family or upbringing, media, and many other influences from our identity and experiences. When we separate our conditioning from us as people, we can work to adjust and shift the behaviour/action and it doesn't cause a direct hit on the person/their character. Because, let's be honest... the way we think, speak, and act... we didn't come up with that ourselves... it's something we are taught to do and is given value from the world around us... the same way that we are taught what not to say, things that are wrong or inappropriate, or how not to behave.

In workplaces, feedback is often delayed, vague, or softened to avoid discomfort. By the time it arrives, the learning window has closed. Annual hindsight performance reviews, annual pulse checks, or exit interviews.

Sport reminds us that clarity is not cruelty. Timely feedback is an act of respect.

Mistakes are treated as data. In sport, mistakes are expected. A missed shot, a blown assignment, a bad pit stop — all are inputs for learning. There is also a unique integration of assessing others in sport. Looking at film from other teams, assessing game play and strategy. Learning the competitor at the same rate of learning yourself.

In many workplaces, mistakes are still treated as personal failure. There is no systems accountability, workplace accountability, or transparency of influence. There is no grand review. People learn quickly that it’s safer to hide errors than surface them.

The result? Sport improves systems. Workplaces improve excuses. The difference isn't because sports are in the limelight either. Workplaces are in the limelight – it is just given different value. Internal reviews, Board of Directors, clients, vendors, sponsors, donors. There are a lot of people who invest in the success of an organization, yet the people take the fall. Yes, sometimes a player does take the fall for a loss, but that is the perception of the public. How to sports organizations respond? Team development, coaching development AND player development. No 'I' in team, right? So why is the individual solo'd out in the workplace?

Learning can’t happen where errors are punished instead of examined.

What sport is learning from adult learning and psychological safety

For a long time, sport relied on fear, hierarchy, and “toughness” to drive performance. And yes — that model can produce short-term wins. But it’s brittle. Athletes are experiencing a complex system of coaching feedback, team feedback, family and friends feedback, self-reflection, and (the heavy hitter) public feedback... where negativity and criticism is most heavily absorbed.

Psychological safety improves decision-making under pressure. In adult learning research, we know that threat shuts down cognition. When people are afraid of embarrassment or punishment, they stop asking questions, stop experimenting, and default to safe-but-suboptimal choices. Sport is increasingly acknowledging the same reality. When an individual is not psychological safe, they're making mistakes, not communicating, and not absorbing. They shut down.

In motorsports, drivers and crew chiefs must communicate in real time at nearly 200 mph. If a crew member doesn’t feel 'safe' calling out an adjustment, the car doesn’t magically get faster — it gets more dangerous. I'm not talking about physical safety here. It's not like they feel that if they call it out someone will beat them with a tire iron. That's what is complex about psychological safety. It's a feeling that sometimes can't be explicitly named. 

Think about it this way... over the course of two weeks the crew members are constantly bickering over who needs to do what so that they move faster on a pit stop. Two members of the crew think that each other is the problem. One member has been around for 20 years and takes lead of the team most of the time – even though they aren't the crew chief. The other team member is newer and this is their dream job, so they don't want to cause any problems. The desire to stay on the crew and not wanting to lose their job means they don't have psychological safety. They fear that speaking up or contributing could cost them 'everything.' Is that the reality? Maybe not... but their perception of the environment makes it real enough to impact team performance.

Developing psychological safety doesn't mean you have to hold people's hands and sugar-coat everything either. It's about creating a space where people are seen, heard, and valued. Where disagreement is okay and constructive feedback occurs regularly. It's about creating a space where people are welcomed to contribute and their contributions will be acknowledged and validated. The misconception for many is that inclusion means equal. Everyone gets a say. Yes, they do, but that doesn't mean you do what they say. Psychological safety is about hearing people, valuing and validating their contribution and fairly considering it. You can still say no. It can still be a bad idea. But, their ability to contribute meaningfully means that they are part of the conversation. So, maybe they suggest 1,000 bad ideas and each gets a 'no.' Fine. But you have to create an environment for those ideas to be shared because it affects the rest of the organization's success too... because 1,001 could be the next big thing, lead to a championship, or prevent a major incident.

Psychological safety in this context isn’t about comfort. It’s about precision and survival.

Autonomy matters — even for elite performers. Adult learners engage more deeply when they understand why they’re doing something and have some ownership in how they do it. Sport is learning this too. It can be a scary concept because it looks at the insides of an operation. The why might be something that an organization hasn't even thought of. But, people invest in an organization when they know they are a part of something bigger, when it has value for them, and when they can see what their effort does.

Athletes who are treated as thinking partners — not just execution machines — adapt better when conditions change. Top-down control works until something unexpected happens. Then autonomy becomes an asset, not a threat.

Netflix is an example of this in practice. Their “freedom and responsibility” culture gives teams wide latitude to make decisions — from spending to project direction — as long as they are aligned to clear goals and shared values. There are few rigid approval chains, but a high expectation of judgment and accountability. That autonomy allows people to respond quickly when market conditions shift, content underperforms, or technology changes. The system works not because control is tight, but because purpose and expectations are.

The lesson is simple but uncomfortable: autonomy doesn’t mean absence of standards. It means clarity of purpose, trust in people’s judgment, and systems that let them think — not just comply.

NASCAR, pressure, and narrative as a psychological safety issue

High-performance sport also reveals how narratives affect learning and performance.

Take Denny Hamlin. Much of the conversation around his career focuses on near-misses and the elusive championship — often framed as a “black cloud.” This isn’t about superstition. It’s about meaning.

When failure becomes a story about who someone is, not what happened, learning becomes harder. That’s true for athletes and for employees who get labeled as “not leadership material” or “bad communicators.”

Psychological safety acts as a buffer against identity collapse. It allows people to treat outcomes as information, not verdicts.

Similarly, Bubba Wallace has competed while carrying public scrutiny far beyond lap times. His experience highlights a workplace truth sport is only beginning to reckon with: psychological safety is not evenly distributed. Some people carry more risk when they speak up.

Systems that protect voice — especially under pressure — outperform systems that demand silence.

College football and the power of “not yet”

Another place where adult learning and sport intersect is development pacing. In college football, quarterbacks are often rushed into starting roles because of hype, recruiting pressure, or fan impatience. The result is predictable: confidence collapses, learning stalls, and talent burns out. It doesn't help when you are a legacy.

We can learn a lot from the experiences Arch Manning had this past two seasons. From the moment his name is spoken, he’s forced into layers of expectation — legacy comparisons, public judgment, media scrutiny, and an almost impossible standard of performance. He isn’t just assessed by fans and commentators; he’s inevitably assessing himself against a narrative that was written long before he took a collegiate snap. That kind of pressure doesn’t just shape performance — it shapes identity, confidence, and risk tolerance. It also shapes how he supports and engages with his team.

When an athlete is burdened by constant expectation and public evaluation, energy that could go toward connection, communication, and trust-building is redirected toward self-monitoring and damage control. Instead of fully engaging as a teammate, there’s pressure to manage perception, avoid mistakes, and live up to an external narrative. That can narrow leadership behaviors, reduce risk-taking, and make authentic peer relationships harder to form. The weight of expectation doesn’t just affect individual performance; it quietly reshapes how someone shows up for others.

Adult learning theory has always emphasized readiness — cognitive, emotional, and contextual. Sport is slowly relearning that performance without readiness isn’t development; it’s exposure.

Psychological safety doesn’t mean lowering expectations. It means aligning expectations with timing.

Where sport and workplaces meet

Sport already understands adult learning in practice: 1) Repetition matters; 2) Feedback must be timely; and 3) Errors are inevitable.

Workplaces often understand adult learning in theory, but struggle to apply it under real pressure. At the same time, sport is learning from adult learning and psychological safety research that: 1) Fear limits adaptability; 2) Voice improves outcomes; and 3) Identity threats undermine performance.

The shared lesson is simple, but uncomfortable: You cannot demand high performance from adults while ignoring how adults actually learn.

Whether you’re running a race team or a leadership program, the conditions for learning don’t change just because the context does. And neither does the cost of getting it wrong.