In 2012, saturation diver Chris Lemons survived almost forty minutes on the floor of the North Sea with no air supply – a story told in the documentary and feature film Last Breath. Now a keynote speaker on resilience and performance under pressure, Chris argues that what saved him wasn’t courage or luck, but something far less dramatic. Here, in his own words, he explains why preparation is the quiet foundation of crisis management – and what every organisation can learn from it.
At 22:12 on the evening of the 18th September 2012, I stopped breathing.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
Three hundred feet below the North Sea, my umbilical cable – the lifeline which supplies me with breathing gas, communications and heat from the ship floating on the surface above me – was severed. In an instant, I was alone in the alien darkness of the seabed, unable to swim to the surface, with only 9 minutes of emergency breathing gas left to sustain me. It took my heroic rescuers nearly 41 minutes to get me back to the safety of a breathable environment.
People often ask me what saved my life that night. Some assume it was luck. Others suggest courage, resilience, God, or quick thinking under pressure. But whilst Hollywood went on to make a movie of my story, the truth is rather less dramatic.
Preparation.
Not an undiscovered superpower or inspirational mindset, but rather a close knit team of people who had spent years doing the boring things exceptionally well.
Why preparation matters most when the plan runs out
That answer often surprises people because preparation is usually associated with predictability. We train for scenarios we expect to happen. We rehearse emergency procedures. We write checklists. We develop contingency plans.
But the incident that nearly claimed my life wasn’t in anybody’s script. The emergency manuals didn’t contain the answer.
So why did preparation matter so much?
Because its greatest value wasn’t that it told people exactly what to do, but rather that it removed everything they didn’t need to think about.
The response to every familiar problem had already been rehearsed. Roles were understood. Communication protocols existed. Emergency drills had become second nature. The fundamentals of the operation had been practised so many times that they required very little conscious thought.
That meant something incredibly important happened. When an unprecedented problem emerged, the team still had the mental capacity to solve it.
Over the years, I’ve come to realise that’s what preparation really gives us.

Cognitive load: what happens to teams under pressure
Psychologists talk about cognitive load—the amount of mental effort our brains can cope with at any one time. Under pressure, that capacity shrinks remarkably quickly. Information arrives faster. Decisions become more complex. Stress narrows our attention. Even simple tasks can suddenly feel difficult.
We’ve all experienced it. The inbox fills faster than we can answer it. The phone won’t stop ringing. Priorities shift by the minute. People are looking to us for answers we don’t yet have.
In those moments, the organisations that perform best aren’t always those with the most talented individuals. They’re often the organisations that have already reduced as much unnecessary thinking as possible before the pressure arrived.
That’s what effective preparation achieves. Every well-designed process. Every meaningful rehearsal. Every trusted relationship. Every honest conversation. Every clearly defined role and well-practised procedure.
They’re all small investments made during calm conditions that protect our ability to think clearly when conditions deteriorate.
And that principle extends far beyond commercial diving. Whether you’re leading a healthcare organisation, advising a client through a major insurance claim, managing a manufacturing plant, running a technology company or commanding a vessel at sea:
It comes from the unexpected event that nobody saw coming.”
Preparation creates flexibility, not rigidity
The organisations that respond best aren’t necessarily those with the thickest manuals or the most detailed procedures. They’re the ones that have created the capacity to adapt, and that’s an important distinction.
People sometimes misunderstand meticulous preparation as a barrier to flexibility. I think the opposite is true. Preparation creates flexibility.
When the routine becomes automatic, your mind is free to deal with the extraordinary. When communication has already been built, people speak openly under pressure.
When roles are understood, teams collaborate rather than hesitate.”
Preparation doesn’t eliminate uncertainty, but it allows us to function despite it. And that’s why I increasingly see preparation as one of the greatest drivers of resilience.
Resilience isn’t a trait – it’s something you build
We often think of resilience as though it’s a personal quality – something you either have or you don’t.
My experience taught me something different. Resilience isn’t a trait. It’s the product of preparation, training, systems, culture and people. Every time we improve a process. Every time we strengthen a relationship. Every time we learn from something that almost went wrong. By the time the crisis arrives, resilience is simply the capability that remains.
And perhaps that’s the lesson I carry into every organisation I now have the privilege of speaking to. Preparation isn’t about handling the expected. It’s about creating the capacity to handle the unexpected.
We fall to the level of our preparation.”