The Captain addressed his crew – two fellow pilots and nine cabin crew – as is the normal preflight procedure. Anything that needs to be covered, is. The usual topics – expected weather en route, flight time, possibility of turbulence, passenger numbers and special considerations.

More importantly, it’s the time rapport is established – crucial for safe operations, especially should an emergency arise. It’s then that we need everyone working together, communicating freely, completing their roles competently.

This time however, it was different.

Times were tough. Profits were under immense pressure. Staff contract negotiations were going badly. Morale was at a very low ebb. Staff were working hard, with no relief in sight.

Outside of work, interest rates were climbing, the cost of living rising, and employment options reducing. And then there were the global conflicts, broadcast on television screens daily.

It seemed bad news was consuming the world. And the Captain knew it. He could feel it. He knew he had to do something, at least to make their time together as a crew better; so they could cope with the pressure of their work.

This was not how he wanted any of them, himself included, to spend one more minute – let alone ensuring that the staff were able to perform professionally.

He took a moment, looked at his crew and spoke quietly.

“You’re exhausted, aren’t you?” he said.

That was it. That was the moment it all changed. Relief swept over the eleven crew members – and him also.

That was the moment they became a real crew, a close crew. Someone understood. Someone acknowledged. Someone saw it from their perspective. Someone did not judge. Someone who mattered.

No matter what was going on, those crew members lived on those four words for the next month.

The flight departed. Ten hours is a long flight. Around 2am the Captain put on his jacket, concealing his identity so as to not alarm the passengers and walked down to the rear of the cabin.

His purpose? To check on the crew. To see if there was anything they needed, if any passengers were being difficult, if there was anything they wanted to ‘download’.

He didn’t just acknowledge them, he saw them. Stood in their shoes, even for a while.

“Thank you so much,” came the response. Genuine. So appreciative. Memorable.

The crew on his flight were a subset of the entire company. This Captain was also a senior manager in his organization. There were 12 people in his immediate office area, and another dozen or more in surrounding workplaces.

He’d initiated a tradition – a Monday lunchtime meeting, to which everyone was invited, bringing lunch also. Anyone was welcome to raise any topic. Camaraderie built. A tightly knit crew.

At first, his staff of 12 came together, but as word spread, so the numbers increased from other departments.

One Monday, it was different. These people were experiencing the same way as his crew. And so, he acted again. He knew he had to.

“You’re exhausted, aren’t you?” he said.

The pressure relief was palpable. Again. Acknowledgment, once more. Then he stood in their shoes also, like this.

So what did he do? He called it a (staff member) blitz. A ‘secretary’ blitz. A ‘planner’ blitz. Whatever their role was.

That meant that the particular staff member became the ‘boss’ for the next hour. And the rest of the staff would do whatever that person needed, no matter what. Anything from phone calls to photocopying to making coffee.

The result – it never lasted an hour. The staff member felt so valued, they were happy again after 20 minutes.

So how do we manage our staff when times are more than really tough, when money is tight and when there’s no more to give? No-one can work miracles. Sometimes circumstances are beyond our control. But we can walk in their shoes; acknowledge them, like this Captain.

In uncertain times such as the world is experiencing right now, keep your timeframes short. Very short. Thinking too far ahead can induce catastrophizing.

So why don’t managers say and do these things? There are several reasons. They see it as a risk – admitting that the staff are doing it tough may induce unrest. They’re afraid. Afraid to get a bit closer to their staff. To be more human.

For the most part though, they don’t consider think of it as a possibility, a way to get really hard times.

But you’re none of these things, are you…

Reprise: “You’re exhausted, aren’t you?” he said.

The staff were sustained by that for the next four weeks.

Try this at home and with those you care for most and watch their response.

This is an extract from The Leadership Holy Grail by Chris Smith.

Opinions expressed by The CEO Magazine contributors are their own.