The Power of Urgency (Part 2): When Alexander the Great Burned the Ships
And the lasting power of Death-Ground Strategy.
It is the 3rd century BC on the Persian coast. The sand moves under the heavy weight of Macedonian ships as they land on an enemy shore. Alexander the Great stands at the front, his eyes looking out at the horizon as his army gets off the ships.
News comes from the scouts, and it spreads through the camp like a sickness: the Persian army outnumbers them five to one. Five to one. The chances are not just bad; they are deadly.
That night, a feeling of fear fills the camp. Men gather around small fires, their eyes lost in the flames, thinking of the families they might never see again. They look toward the coast, at the dark shapes of the ships floating in the harbor—their only way to escape, their only hope to live. The question "Why are we here?" is on everyone's mind, even if no one says it. The feeling of wanting to run away, to go home, is strong. The army's spirit is about to break.
At this moment, with his army's hope almost gone, Alexander calls his commanders together. He does not offer nice words or a clever plan for defense. He gives a single, scary order that will be remembered forever.
"Burn the ships."
The command is met with shocked silence. But he repeats it, his voice strong and steady. The soldiers watch as torches are brought to the sides of their own ships. They watch as the flames catch, climbing the masts and eating the wood that is their only link to home. The fire casts a terrible light on their faces, and in that light, a deep and scary understanding comes to them: there is no going back. There is no escape. There is only moving forward.
Tomorrow, they will either win against their enemies or die on this new land.
As the story goes, the Macedonian army fought the next day with a power that seemed almost crazy. They were no longer soldiers fighting for a king; they were men fighting for their own lives. And they won.
The Power of Urgency
This is the lasting power of the Death-Ground Strategy, an idea later made famous by thinkers like Sun Tzu and Robert Greene. By purposely putting his army in a place with no escape, Alexander did not just take away a choice; he created a new one. He changed their fear of death into a fierce wish to live.
The lesson from Alexander's burning ships is not about old wars; it's a deep understanding of how people think today. We all have a backup plan, a "maybe one day" project, or an easy way out. We think these things keep us safe, but often they just weaken our promise to ourselves. We procrastinate. We delay. We wait for the perfect moment to come, without realizing that it will never come. But by taking away all choices but one, we are forced to give our all to the challenge in front of us.
Alexander teaches us that sometimes, the only way to find our true power is to burn the ships, leaving only one choice. It is only when we must face a challenge with a strong feeling that we must act now that we discover what we can really do.
What backup plans are you keeping in your life, and what might you do if you decided to get rid of them?
This is the second in a series of articles on The Power of Urgency. Next, we will explore how Elon Musk used a maniacal sense of urgency as operating principle to revolutionize the space and car industry.
You can access previous posts here:
I mentally burn the ships often. No way out but through. We are capable of so much when we figuratively burn the ships 👊🏻
Andres, I truly enjoyed reading this. As a Persian, this story touches me deeply, not just for its history, but for the timeless truth it carries. My ancestors stood on that very soil, facing Alexander’s fire and steel, and yet what remains today is not his empire, but the lesson.
Urgency sharpens the human spirit in ways comfort never can. When there’s no retreat, life demands our full presence. I’ve felt this in my own path, years where the only way forward was to let go of safety and walk into the unknown with both fear and courage as companions.
The burning ships are not just history, they are within us. Sometimes, to truly live, we must let the old paths turn to ash. Thank you for this beautiful piece.