why every organization needs both maverick and iceman
This past week was the 40th anniversary release of Top Gun, which was honored by re-releasing in theaters to a double feature opportunity; so, my friend and I bought matinee tickets to both and spent our day feeling the need for speed. Admittedly, before this outing, I had only seen the original Top Gun once (right before the original release of the sequel). Since I was at least familiar with the storyline this time around, I was struck by some of the layers within the dynamics that I missed in my first viewing.
As far as leadership styles go, organizations tend to swing preferences toward one type as opposed to creating cultures where different styles can thrive. For one, people tend to hire people they like, and two, people hire those who subconsciously represent a lack of friction. In other words, managers hire someone who won’t get in the way of what they want to see done and/or how they’d like to do it. No one’s going out of their own way to mess with their flow.
I once had a boss tell me she hired me even though she knew I would be a “stretch” for her management style. Guess how that worked out?
To her credit, she gave it her all. She made efforts to be supportive in a wildly demanding environment where I was tossed into the deep with no relevant knowledge. She really did have good intentions, and we learned from each other, but in the end, the gap was real and we simply didn’t see eye to eye on big things that mattered. She was also my skip-level manager, and the role in-between was never filled during my tenure. That created its own unnecessary stress.
Have you ever worked for someone who’s brilliant, but reckless? Or, have you ever worked for someone who’s dependable, but uninspiring? Maverick and Iceman represent extremes of these principles, but they’re principles that matter:
- Vision vs. discipline
- Innovation vs. structure
- Instinct vs. process
- Momentum vs. stability
These approaches do compete, but all are necessary. All of these carry weight. The goal is always balance; however, most managers I know probably wouldn’t ad-lib “balance” as a priority if you put them on the spot. If we’re being realistic, it probably wouldn’t even make the list until someone else says “what about balance” and then the manager goes “oh yeah that would be great.”
Maverick
Pete Mitchell is a likable guy if he’s in your orbit, but doesn’t report to you. He’s creative, adaptable, displays boldness under pressure, acts on emotional intuition, and is completely willing to challenge convention if he’s boxed in. There are many moments in both films where his peers wish they could do what he’s capable of.
The workplace “Maverick” often thrives where rules are outdated, conditions change rapidly, teams need inspiration, innovation matters more than predictability, and results matter more than process. People who operate with speed and accuracy in high stakes can be invaluable to the end game, but Mavericks run a likely risk of frustrating organizations for exposing inefficiency. The company he works for needs to be aligned and looking for change, otherwise that conflict is virtually unavoidable.
People don’t merely dislike risk, or dislike threat. They dislike people who make the current system feel inadequate (and no one wants their baby called ugly 🤷🏼♀️). Truth tellers are generally punished more than embraced. Still, someone who is genuinely compelled to follow their instincts won’t be able to abide the lack of competence.
Nonetheless, no one is perfect, and Mavericks are not without weakness. If left unchecked, this behavior can:
- Burn out teams
- Create instability or uncertainty within a team
- Confuse confidence with wisdom
- Risk becoming addicted to being “the exception” to a rule
When Icarus got too close to the sun, he lost his feathers and plummeted (and I’m pretty sure the sun is hot enough to combust a fighter jet, too). Without an Iceman, allowing instinct without accountability is eventually just recklessness.
Iceman
Tom Kazansky was a by-the-book kind of man. While initially portrayed as the villain due to his own imposing ego, he protected his standards. His technical skills were equal to Maverick’s, if less imaginative. He was calm, calculated, and as Goose said, flew “ice cold. No mistakes. Just… get bored, frustrated, do something stupid, he’s got you.” Kazansky accelerated in the ranks thanks to both his ability and willingness to consistently execute with accuracy. It’s what some people refer to as “deadly aim”.
He was precise, reliable, disciplined, strategy-forward, and had an appropriate respect for systems. Icemen thrive where safety matters, teams need consistency, scaling requires repeatability, and stability is essential. A younger viewer would be tempted to see Maverick as the hero and Iceman as the obstacle. Age and experience have a way of reframing that interpretation. Many of us, I’m sure, may even have witnessed a Maverick turn into an Iceman with time. I’d even consider myself among that group.
Top Gun is reserved for the top 1% of pilots, so we need to keep a reasonable frame of mind that both of these men are the best of the best. It’s relevant to note that Iceman wasn’t trying to suppress excellence. He was just trying to avoid unnecessary casualties (valid). Every organization eventually learns that talent alone is not a strategy.
With that said, too much rigidity can evolve into resisting change for too long, unintentionally discouraging creativity, prioritizing process over people, and becoming overly cautious. Without a Maverick, organizations stagnate, innovation slows, and morale becomes mechanical.
The Blend
If you only reward Mavericks, you get:
- Chaos
- Burnout
- Hero culture
- Constant reinvention
- Weak systems
Everyone becomes reactive.
If you only reward Icemen, you get:
- Bureaucracy
- Inhibiting fear of failure
- Slow decision-making
- Risk avoidance
- Innovation paralysis
Everyone becomes cautious.
Healthy organizations actually need tension: not conflict, but productive friction. The best teams:
- Challenge ideas without destroying trust
- Balance instinct with discipline
- Know when to improvise and when to standardize
The most important moments in Top Gun aren’t the dog fights. When Ice comes to Mav’s rescue, they learn it took them both to protect the mission. Fast forwarding to the sequel, it’s clearly implied that they carried their relationship through their careers. When we see the older versions of themselves, Maverick has become more disciplined. Ice has become more understanding. Neither abandoned who they were, but they did evolve (Maverick never ranked above Captain due to his behavior, while Iceman became the Commander of the US Naval Forces). Iceman ultimately understands Maverick’s value and protects him. Maverick ultimately understands Iceman’s wisdom and respects him. That’s leadership maturity.
The strongest leaders eventually learns that structure exists for a reason, rules are tools, creativity fails without trust, and discipline fails without humanity.
I was lucky enough to encounter another leader later in my career that stabilized some of the corporate trauma I went through when previous companies were either too cavalier or too rigid (and I’ve been through both!). In this story, he’s Maverick. He’s a gunslinger with vision and a will to “make it happen”. I’m much more reserved and policy-driven, clinging to structure as the walls shake.
When I was hired into that role, he had also been newly promoted. In that sense we were both exploring new territory. I was entering at a management level in a completely new industry, and he was elevating his leadership experience to oversee a team of managers who ran revenue volumes in the multi-millions individually. We learned to rodeo together.
Fortunately, we were both far enough into our respective careers that we were able to meet in the middle and bridge various gaps between our combined experience. His reassurance that I really, truly could not break anything he couldn’t fix allowed me to climb into the cockpit and learn to fly by night. There have also been times when he needed help landing the plane as the wheels were spinning loose. Could we have done it all without each other? Maybe. The experience wouldn’t have been nearly as edifying, though, and would it have just plain been as fun? Negative, Ghost Rider.
The result of that mutual respect is something neither leadership style can fully create alone:
- Bold ideas that survive implementation
- Fast movement without unnecessary collapse
- Accountability without suffocating creativity
- Stability without stagnation
*Bonus*: As a respectful callback to my article It’s Lonely at the Top, you also know you’re not in it alone.
We can be each other’s wingmen anytime.
