The Major’s Burden: Building Teams, Systems, and Leaders

The promotion to major arrives like the best things in the Army: with ceremony, congratulations, and a quiet panic that sets in around 3 a.m. the night before assuming a new position.

Senior captains know their lane, commanded a company, led Soldiers through training cycles, decided what mattered, and built something tangible. Captains understand the weight of command, having carried it. Majors quickly discover that the weight carried as a captain compares little to what’s coming.

But here’s the truth that took me years to understand: I did not carry this weight alone. In fact, when I tried on my own, I failed. Not spectacularly, perhaps, but in the ways that matter most. I failed the commander, the staff, and, worst of all, I failed the next generation of leaders who were counting on me to develop them.

The transition from captain to major is not a promotion in the traditional sense. But a fundamental shift in leadership methods. A captain is the tip of the spear. Captains execute, lead from the front, and serve as subject matter experts. A major’s job is to build the spear, sharpen it, and ensure that it is more deadly than yesterday.

 The Myth of the Self-Made Major

When I was a captain, I believed that success came from working harder, knowing more, and being in more meetings than others. I thought that by putting in the hours, mastering systems, and staying ahead of problems, I could control outcomes.

This is a dangerous myth.

When pinning on major’s rank, the challenges are no longer problems that are solved alone. They are organizational, requiring coordination across formations, and demand unique expertise and perspectives.

My mentor, and Small Group Leader from CGSC, put it simply: “Pick three things and do them well. Not 10, not 20, just 3.” Everything else, he explained, flows through a team. A major cannot serve as the expert for everything. Majors must know enough to ask the right questions, recognize what is broken, and indirectly empower the team to fix it. This best resembles the jack of all staff trades and the master of their MOS.

Personally, this was one of the hardest lessons I learned. There can be a perception that rank equals expertise and that more weight on shoulders means omniscience. The reality is opposite. The higher an officer goes, the less she absorbs details and the more she must rely on the people around her.

 Building the Team, Not the Resume

When arriving at a new assignment, a major will inherit a staff. Some of these people are exceptional, some are adequate, and some are struggling. The first instinct, a knee-jerk from captaincy, is to fix the struggling ones by replacing or bypassing them. Don’t.

Instead, majors should ask: What does this person need to succeed? Training? Clarity on expectations? A different role that plays to their strengths? Mentorship?

My former Battalion Commander in the 307th Military Intelligence Battalion emphasized that development is both echeloned and nested. This negates a one-size-fits-all model conducted in a conference room. Development is individualized, tied to the commander’s priorities, and woven into the organization’s daily work.

The imperative for majors: know their captains and senior NCOs. Not just names and positions, but strengths, weaknesses, ambitions, and human struggles. Create opportunities for growth, not report fodder, but because their development is the Army’s future.

When I was an Executive Officer deployed in Egypt and Israel, I deliberately chose to put NCOs and junior officers as primary briefers at meetings, working groups, and briefings. The first time I did this, it was a disaster. The information flow slowed, and briefings were disorganized. My Commander asked me what was going on.

I told the truth: I was developing the next generation of leaders.

He nodded and said, “Keep going.”

Three months later, those same NCOs and junior officers ran briefings that were sharper in detail and provided insights beyond anything I could have produced on my own. They had ownership, visibility to higher headquarters, confidence, and I had time restored to my calendar to focus on things that only I could do.

This trade-off means being busier in the near term while investing time in teaching, coaching, and correcting. In short, the proverbial bench builds itself into a team that can execute autonomously, think critically, and is ready for the next level.

 Systems Over Self

One of the most dangerous traps for a major is the belief that majors are the solution to a unit’s problems. They’re not.

My former Brigade Commander, in the 500th Military Intelligence Brigade-Theater, reflected: “There is no stasis in the Army. You are either getting better or getting worse.” She didn’t infer that an officer is getting better or worse. Rather, the unit’s ability to master processes. Majors own this.

When something goes wrong, the captain’s instinct will be to immediately assess blame. Take the reflective approach and ask: What system failed, process broke down, or did information not flow the way it should have?

My mentor emphasized this in his guidance to senior captains; it applied even more to majors. During an AAR, move the crosshair from the person to the system. This creates a focus on solving the long-term problem while fostering an environment of risk tolerance, innovation, and execution in the absence of leadership.

If a team is afraid to make mistakes, they abandon creativity, innovation, or decentralized execution.

Effective majors build systems that self-execute without them, via processes that are clear, repeatable, and resilient. This enables standards that are understood and enforced consistently. This creates space to step back and let the team execute within those systems.

 The Weight of Presence

There is one thing that cannot be delegated, and that is presence.

Presence requires showing up to the things that matter to the team. Eating in the mess hall collectively, attending promotion ceremonies, re-enlistments, and unit events. This constitutes visible engagement in training, operations, and the daily life of the organization.

This reflects intentionality, valuing quality over quantity. Presence messages “this matters, Soldiers matter, and I care about what you’re doing.”

My current Brigade Commander, at the Joint Pacific Multinational Readiness Center, understands this. He emphasizes face-to-face communication and personal interaction. In a world of emails, Teams messages, and virtual meetings, the simple act of sitting down with someone and looking them in the eye builds strong teams.

Majors simultaneously run in varied directions, stack meetings, and have emails that demand immediate responses. But losing presence or becoming a disembodied voice in a conference room or a name on an email diminishes the team’s cohesion.

 The Hardest Lesson: I am Not the Smartest Person in the Room

A major finds temptation to believe that they’ve arrived, figured it out, and have the answers.

In fact, learning decelerates the moment someone believes they have all the answers. And the moment learning slows is the moment that constitutes liability.

Effective majors are professional students who ask questions. Able to admit when they don’t know something, while leaning on the expertise of Warrant Officers, NCOs, Soldiers, and the other field grades in the formation. This creates an environment where the best idea wins, regardless of rank.

In practice, this is harder than envisioned. We are trained to project confidence, have answers, and lead from a position of strength. But the strongest leaders I’ve known are the ones who are comfortable saying, “I don’t know. Let’s figure this out together.”

 The Transition

A major should never lose sight of the fact that they are potential battalion commanders in waiting and in training. This requires providing the commander with actionable information instead of data points. Understand what keeps the commander up at night. Constantly assess the warfighting functions for serviceability. This best serves the command and prepares majors for the day they may become a battalion commander.

The transition from captain to major is not about becoming a better individual contributor but becoming a better multiplier. Understanding that value is no longer measured by personal accomplishment, but by what the team achieves.

This requires a fundamental maturation in mindset. Majors must let go of the need to be the expert, embrace the discomfort of not knowing, and invest time in people, even when time is not readily available. Focus on systems and processes instead of individual performance. And understand that success is entirely dependent on the success of the team and systems.

This is the burden of the Major. This is also the privilege.

Majors seize the opportunity to shape the next generation of leaders. Building systems that will outlast them. Creating a culture where people are empowered, developed, and ready for what comes next.

Majors cannot do this alone and will not succeed individually.

Embracing the role as developer of people, builder of systems, and teammate, vice the direct leader, majors will leave organizations better than they found it. This is the only measure of success that matters.

Author Intent: The higher you go, the less you know about the details, and the more you must rely on the people around you. This article was built from my conversations with my previous Battalion and Brigade Commanders, my mentors, and from my own successes and failures as a major. My intent is for at least one senior captain or newly promoted major to learn from my mistakes and experience so they can make their next organization a better place with their presence.

Author Bio:

MAJ Kyle F. McCarter is a Military Intelligence Officer serving as the Chief of Staff for the Joint Pacific Multinational Readiness Center, U.S. Army Pacific. As a Major he has served as an Executive Officer, Operations Officer, Senior Intelligence Officer, and now a Chief of Staff. He is published in multiple leadership venues and military magazines.

Photo: 25th CAB, November 2025 (U.S. Army photo by Sgt. Olivia Cowart)