Nelson's Touch: Lessons for Scaling Organizations

2025-11-01

While Silicon Valley fawns over Napoleon, I think a lot more lessons on scaling startups can be drawn from Bonaparte’s naval nemesis, Horatio Nelson.

Nelson stands as history’s most celebrated naval commander. His remarkable series of triumphs at sea cemented Britain’s supremacy on the world’s oceans. A dominance that would endure for over a century beyond his lifetime.

The Battle of the Nile

In 1798, Nelson’s frigates were destroyed in a storm off Sardinia. For two months he searched for Napoleon’s invasion fleet without reconnaissance assets. He passed them in the dark. Reached Malta after they had taken it and left. Arrived at Alexandria on June 28th, found nothing, and sailed away. Napoleon landed three days later.

When Nelson finally caught them at Aboukir Bay on August 1st, what was to become the Battle of the Nile began at sunset and continued into darkness. Ships fought by muzzle flash. Smoke made signals impossible. Around 10 PM, L’Orient, the French flagship, caught fire and exploded, lighting the bay for fifteen minutes before plunging it back into darkness. Fighting continued until 3 AM.

Nelson took shrapnel to the head early in the battle and was carried below deck, blinded by blood. His captains fought through the night without signals, orders, or their commander. Yet they captured or destroyed eleven of thirteen French ships, a winning rate unprecedented in naval history until Trafalgar.

The question isn’t how Nelson communicated during that battle. He obviously couldn’t. The question is what he’d communicated beforehand.

Working Sessions

Before major battles, Nelson gathered his captains for dinner, then spent hours working through the plan. Not briefing them. Working through it together. “What if the wind shifts?” “What if they refuse to engage?” “What if we lose formation?”

Captains argued, suggested alternatives, pointed out problems. Sometimes Nelson changed the plan. Sometimes he kept it but explained his reasoning. He wanted them to see how he thought about naval combat so that when something unexpected happened, they’d know what he’d prioritize.

At the Nile, Captain Foley commanded Goliath, the lead ship. As the British approached the French line anchored in Aboukir Bay, Foley spotted enough depth to sail between the French ships and shore. This would trap the French in crossfire from both sides. It wasn’t in the plan. Foley did it anyway. The ships behind him followed his lead.

They had learned that Nelson valued aggressive initiative and exploitation of opportunity over rigid obedience. When conditions changed, they adapted in ways consistent with his thinking.

The Circulating Order Book

To reinforce this, Nelson kept a circulating order book that passed from ship to ship. Each captain read it, annotated it, and passed it along. The book didn’t prescribe procedures. It explained reasoning.

“I prefer close-quarters engagement,” he wrote, “because it neutralizes their superior numbers by making battles about crew quality, not firepower. When you can’t see my signals, engage the nearest enemy ship as closely as possible.” Indeed, because of rigrious training, British ships could fire at a rate two to three times that of French ships.

By giving his captains the logic behind his preferences, he made them independent extensions of his judgment. His orders were principles, not scripts.

That same clarity appeared in his Trafalgar Memorandum: “In case signals can neither be seen nor perfectly understood, no Captain can do very wrong if he places his ship alongside that of the enemy.” It was simple, memorable, and actionable. Guidance designed to outlast the failure of communication itself.

Shared Risk

That trust was also reinforced by shared risk. Before Trafalgar began, Nelson sent one final signal: “England expects that every man will do his duty.” It was a statement of confidence and trust in his team. His captains already knew what to do.

Nelson commanded from Victory, a 104-gun ship leading one of two columns piercing the enemy line. It was the most dangerous position, and his officers begged him to transfer his flag to a safer frigate. He refused.

As Victory approached, she took fire from multiple ships. Her masts and wheel were destroyed; fifty men were killed or wounded before she fired a shot. Nelson was struck by a sniper and died three hours later, after learning his fleet had won.

His decision to fight from Victory wasn’t necessary tactically. It was necessary symbolically. By sharing the risks his captains faced, he made it easier for them to act with conviction when it mattered.

Managing Credit and Blame

After the Nile, Captain Saumarez was senior, technically Nelson’s second-in-command. Nelson preferred Troubridge. Rather than resolve this by naming one and insulting the other in official dispatches, Nelson simply didn’t name either. He used “Band of Brothers” language deliberately to ensure all his captains got recognition.

Nelson’s approach to credit extended to his selection process itself. After the Nile, three captains were not invited to rejoin his forces. While they had not disgraced themselves, their performance revealed a critical gap. One handled his ship in a “wooden, unimaginative” way that contrasted with the bold, decisive action Nelson demanded. Rather than publicly criticize them, Nelson simply didn’t call on them again. The message was clear without being humiliating: the Band of Brothers required a willingness to seize opportunities and take calculated risks, not just basic competence.

Nelson’s captains knew the asymmetry: success would be attributed to them, failure would land on Nelson. If they thought failure would be blamed on them, they’d never take the risks he needed them to take.

What Carries Over

Modern organizations face the same challenge Nelson did: coordinating complex action across distance, uncertainty, and speed. Teams must act without perfect information or constant approval. Most leaders respond with more rules and layers of oversight measures that make coordination safer but slower. In fast moving environments, delay is as dangerous as confusion.

Nelson chose the opposite path. He communicated principles, not procedures. He made priorities explicit so judgment could replace instruction. He planned for signals to fail and trust to endure. He led from the front and gave away credit, creating a culture where initiative wasn’t just allowed, it was expected.

His lessons translate directly to scaling organizations today:

1. Maintain a simple list of principles that guide independent decision making. When judgment calls arise, clear principles beat detailed rules. Nelson’s “engage the nearest enemy ship as closely as possible” gave his captains a north star when communication broke down. Modern examples like Musk’s “Algorithm” work the same way. A few crisp ideas guide behavior better than a thick playbook. The next time you’re escalated on a decision, ask: could a principle have guided this independently?

2. Build shared understanding by explaining your reasoning, not just your decisions. Don’t brainstorm or decide by committee; it slows you down. But invest time working through the plan with your team, explaining the why behind it. Nelson’s circulating order book didn’t prescribe procedures; it documented his logic. When people understand how you think, they can make good decisions when you’re not there.

3. Create asymmetric accountability: give away credit, absorb blame. Nelson used “Band of Brothers” language to ensure all captains got recognition, while making clear failures would land on him. When people know success will be attributed to them but failure won’t destroy them, they take the risks you need them to take.

4. Select for boldness, not just competence. Culture isn’t just built through action; it’s reinforced through selection at the management level. If you tolerate timidity at senior levels, you signal that caution is rewarded, no matter what your stated values say.

Primary source: Nelson: Britannia’s God of War, Andrew D. Lambert