Startup founders love grit. But neuroscience says that without rest, your resilience breaks you instead of building you.
You don’t notice it at first.
You’re pushing through a launch, a sprint, a pitch deck. You're telling yourself you’ll rest after the next milestone. Then the next. Then never. Eventually, you stop noticing the tension in your shoulders, the quick temper, the hollow moments with your partner. You're surviving—but not really present. Not for your team, not for your family, not even for yourself.
That’s what resilience looked like to me—until it didn’t.
And that’s why Michael Platt’s keynote at the Wharton Neuroscience Summit hit like a warning bell. His message? Resilience without recovery is just slow-motion burnout. And founders are the worst offenders.
When you’re the founder, your rhythm becomes the team’s rhythm. If you model overwork and martyrdom, they’ll either follow—or quietly check out. I’ve seen both. I once had a lead engineer burn out three days before a critical deployment. He hadn’t taken leave in 18 months. I hadn’t noticed. I hadn’t made it safe to pause.
Platt’s data on rhesus macaques who grew more resilient by deepening social bonds after Hurricane Maria wasn’t just a monkey story. It was a mirror. The ones who thrived were the ones who leaned into connection, who adapted socially—not just physically. That’s not just biology. That’s team dynamics 101.
The real moment came on a Sunday afternoon.
My cofounder texted: “Hey, take tomorrow off. You’re not helping us like this.” I was confused. Then angry. Then ashamed.
I had started snapping at product decisions, second-guessing junior hires, rewriting copy at 2am. I thought I was showing commitment. What I was really showing was damage.
That text saved our team. But it also made me confront a hard truth: I had mistaken strain for strength. And I had taught my team to do the same.
We started small. Mandatory off-days after high-stakes launches. A “burnout trigger” checklist every Friday. Peer permission to call out overwork. At first, it felt awkward. Like admitting weakness.
But then something shifted. People started taking real time off—off-grid, not just away from Slack. Our retros became more honest. Our product bugs dropped. Investor calls became sharper. We weren’t slower. We were saner.
And here’s the strange part: trust grew. Platt was right. Connection builds resilience. And resilience, it turns out, isn’t about how much you can endure. It’s about how well you recover—and how you let others recover, too.
This wasn’t about grit. It was about belief.
I had internalized a lie that startups win through endurance alone. That sleep was weakness. That time off was for people with bosses.
But neuroscience doesn’t care about hustle culture. As Platt reminded the Wharton crowd, our brains were built for a world of outdoor movement, real relationships, and periodic rest. Not Slack pings at midnight.
The companies with the highest employee engagement? They invest in resilient cultures. Not perks. Not performance plans. Culture. That includes paid time off. Psychological safety. Actual weekends.
If you’re reading this and thinking, “That’s not me”—pause.
Not to doubt yourself. Just to ask: when was the last time you were fully off? When was the last time your team saw you protect your own energy? If the answer is a shrug, then the system is already fraying.
Startup resilience isn’t built on suffering. It’s built on systems that let people come back stronger. That includes you.
So take the damn day off. Your company won’t collapse. But if you don’t, you just might.