When Smooth Looks Simple: The Hidden Work of PMOs (Because avoiding the storm never trends on LinkedIn)

Do you remember that story about the two captains?

One was calm and meticulous — Captain John — the kind of sailor who studied every chart, checked every knot, and quietly ensured smooth voyages. His passengers never saw a single wave out of place.

The other, Captain Miller, was dramatic and reckless — he ignored warnings, sailed straight into a storm, nearly capsized the ship, and somehow ended up being hailed as a hero for “saving” everyone from the chaos he created.

It’s funny, isn’t it? The world loves a hero captain… but it rarely celebrates the one who avoided the storm in the first place.

Captain John is exactly who I’d want on my team.

He’s calm under pressure, methodical in planning, and allergic to unnecessary chaos. His passengers arrive safe, dry, and blissfully unaware that they were one unexpected squall away from disaster. There are no fireworks at the end of the journey — just satisfied smiles and an on-time arrival.

Meanwhile, Captain Miller? Oh, he’s thriving in corporate America — probably getting a promotion and a leadership award for “navigating through adversity.” Cue eye roll. 🙄

He ignored the weather report, drove straight into a storm of his own creation, nearly capsized the entire operation, and somehow still got off the boat to cheers and free drinks. The passengers didn’t see the bad decisions; they only saw the dramatic recovery. “He saved us!” they said — forgetting, of course, that he was the one who almost drowned them.

And somewhere in the corner of that dockside tavern sits every Project Manager I’ve ever known, sipping quietly like Captain John, watching the show and thinking:

“You wouldn’t have needed a hero if someone had just listened to the forecast*.”

*forecast = project manager

The Invisible Hero Problem 🫥

Here’s the PMO truth no one puts in the deck:

When a project runs smoothly, people assume it was easy.

They don’t see the risks killed off before they grew legs, the messy dependencies detangled before they turned into a soap opera, or the scope-creep monster you quietly tased behind the scenes.

When things don’t catch fire, leadership assumes there was never any fuel to begin with.

That’s the curse of being competent.

As a PMO manager, I see my team out there like a fleet of Captain Johns — steering clear of storms, managing chaos before it ever makes landfall, and getting… what?

A polite “thanks” in a launch email and maybe a virtual confetti emoji.

How to Show the Storms They Never Saw 🌩️

If you lead a PMO (or any quietly competent team), here’s how you shine a light on the invisible stuff — the calm seas that didn’t happen by accident:

1. Share the Deleted Scenes

Start retrospectives with the subtitle: “Stuff That Almost Went Terribly Wrong.”

Make the unseen visible — show the risks that were identified, mitigated, or killed before they became headline-worthy.

It’s not bragging; it’s education.

2. Create a “Things You’ll Never Thank Me For” Log

Every project should have one.

It’s the graveyard of chaos — missed deadlines that never happened, angry exec emails that never got sent, and budget overages that died in infancy.

You can’t manage what you don’t acknowledge… and you can’t value what you never see.

3. Celebrate the Boring

If a project closed on time, under budget, and everyone’s still speaking to each other — throw a damn party.

The absence of drama is the ultimate PM flex.

4. Tell the “What Could Have Been” Story

When presenting outcomes, weave in the near-misses:

“We had three competing priorities that could’ve sunk the schedule — here’s how we avoided it.”

You don’t need to make it dramatic. Just make it clear that smooth didn’t mean simple.

5. Reframe Success Metrics

Add “problems prevented” or “fires avoided” into your PMO dashboards.

If all your KPIs live in “things completed,” you’re missing half the picture. Prevention is performance.

The Final Toast 🍷

Captain Miller gets the glory because people remember the rescue.

But Captain John? He’s the reason no one needed saving.

In the PMO world, I’ll always raise my glass to the Johns — the ones who quietly steer us home without drama, without fanfare, and without the smell of smoke in the air.

They’re the reason everyone else gets to sleep through the night thinking the sea was calm.