When I first watched that scene many years ago, the character’s advice struck me. But as I grew older and experienced ever more precarious business scenarios, I understood that we all have the impulse to try and reverse, re-engineer, maybe even remove things that have taken place that we wish hadn’t. We waste precious time lamenting the reasons and circumstances that caused such events to take place. Instead, Jack Ryan simply accepts what has taken place as finished, and instead searches for a path to convert the circumstances into something potent and powerful.

It’s no accident that I’ve always considered myself something of a “wartime president.” I don’t mean that in a martyrish or self-congratulatory way. It’s just that I find myself much more productive and poised during moments of chaos and difficulty than during stability. I thrive in the trenches and I work with others like this. In fact, while leading three different companies over the years, my greatest challenge was always in finding ways to add tangible value when operations and growth were running smoothly. Go figure.

With the doors of DRUM having slammed shut, the bomb had already detonated. There was nothing left to defuse — literally, nothing left to lose. With that realization, I found the power I needed and began to get excited. And it was quite simple:

It’s a corporate cliche by this point: CEOs stand up at town hall meetings and refer to talent as their greatest asset. But then when the numbers don’t add up for a quarter, they throw their assets to the curb. They don’t throw out computers or company cars. They lay people off. And many of these same companies maintain expensive retention and education programs, which means they spend hours and dollars improving the quality of their assets only to shed them. A few months later, they’re back to recruiting, training and retaining. And the cycle continues.

This trend is fueled by the constant expansion and shrinking of revenue. And the ultimate goal? Growth. Bigger. More. To infinity and beyond. Why this obsession with growth? Because most companies are beholden to external financial overlords or governing bodies. Inactive owners want equity. Shareholders want price performance. Investors want big exits.

But if infinite growth isn’t your key KPI, you’re free to focus on something else: stability and sustainability. And, believe me, your clients can feel the difference. To wit: At DRUM, I was always inclined to find ways to force a fit between our team and an assignment. Why? Because we needed the revenue to meet our growth goal. And because, as head of business development, my compensation was tied in part to “new revenue.” And because we believed that there would be some eventual end to the Sisyphean effort of chasing projects.

I learned that, yes, it is possible to win clients that turn into wonderful partners. And we did some exceptional work. But I also learned that, when revenue is your primary motivation for making a decision, your supporting team can lack passion. We should have known better.

Now, we have removed revenue as the primary motivator, instead empowering our team to decide if they want to commit to a client. By doing so, we extend trust and freedom to the very individuals who will be on the front lines of our valued relationships.

I believe it’s possible to build something much better for everyone using this model. It takes intention and determination early on. In our first six months, I unveiled this plan to my partners and was thrilled when we all shared a passion for this direction.

We agreed that there were some very impressive, large company cultures out there — companies that had grown to an enviable scale and had managed to maintain their fundamental positive characteristics. But we also agreed that they are few and far between. And that “big” wasn’t best for us.

Our goal was clear: We wanted to grow a solid, nimble boutique. Refreshing and clear. But in order for me to get it right this time, I had to make a choice that can be challenging for many leaders — a choice that the owners of our last endeavor had failed to make. In the early days of Summer Friday, I chose to fully trust my partners to lead their domains their own way. To let go of senseless control and insecurity that comes with the pressure to succeed.

With this model in place, and our sights firmly set on alternative performance metrics, it was time to think about culture. I can admit now that I was largely in denial about how toxic agency culture had become at DRUM. At the time, I was under the impression that good intentions, paired with the work I was doing as president, could outweigh the legacy conventions that were being reinforced by several key players. And in retrospect, it’s likely that some of that toxicity was so hardwired into the culture, nothing could wash it clean.

That’s not to say it wasn’t worth saving. Quite the contrary, in fact. I’m indebted to those who filled my sail with wind during the darkest times. Many of my colleagues at DRUM gave it their sincere, devoted, best effort — and I am still humbled by that to this day. And it’s all the more reason our renewed opportunity with Summer Friday absolutely requires paying homage to those talented individuals and devoted clients who made its birth possible.

Instead of “saving accounts,” she was learning to craft strategies under impossible pressure. The only thing she was missing was the trust and authority to blaze her own trail. So, we asked her to be a partner and head our client strategy department. Unsurprisingly, some of her best strategists raced to follow.