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m ,000 feet above the ground, somewhere between Panama Mexico, and I’ve just finished my (plastic and not very tasty) airplane meal.

Suddenly I realized that I was just smiling and nodding my head, as if something unbelievable had just happened. You know, like that exact same feeling you get when your favorite band plays your favorite song live at a concert—the one you thought they were never going to play.

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And even though I didn’t go to a concert last night, I did go to a Fuckup Night. But it wasn’t just a regular Fuckup Night—this one was a Private Fuckup Nights hosted by Sanofi with its Latin American leadership—and I was chosen to moderate.

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I arrived early at the venue to make sure everything was in order. And, to be honest, I started to get nervous. I’ve been lucky enough to host quite a few events, but this one was on a whole other level. The venue was amazing—a historic three-story theater called Teatro Amador, located in Panama City’s old town. There was also a whole lot of production—lights, sound, and even confetti!

And even though I had organized larger private events, such as our Johnnie Walker event with around 400 attendees, this one presented a unique challenge: it had to be conducted in English.

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The Event

It was 7:30 p.m., and it was time to get things started. No time to get nervous—just time to get excited for what I hoped would be a great night. What I didn’t know, though, was that“a great night”would be an understatement.

The lights dimmed, the music started playing, smoke began to fill the room, and a burst of confetti signaled the start of the event. I took the stage. Now, whenm stage, I always like to take a moment to gauge the crowd’s energy, and seeing that the theater was already buzzing with excitement put my nerves at ease. This was our night. So, I started talking about Fuckup Nights, the Failure Institute, our private events, and what we think about failure. The audience went wild. Everyone was clapping, laughing, cheering, and they were just incredibly engaged and happy.

And then I introduced the first speaker: Alan, Sanofi’s head of CHC. Alan had just arrived after a 13-hour flight from Europe, went straight to the stage, and set a great example of how a leader should lead: by example. With a positive attitude, he was humble enough to take off his mask and admit to his entire team that he had screwed up—and pretty badly.

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The speakers

I stood there just looking at everyone’s faces. They looked skeptical.“Wait, what? Why is my boss sharing this with us?”

Then I introduced Carol Ann, who shared how her ego was the main culprit behind a massive screw-up while launching a new project in Japan. Even without my mind-reading powers, I could tell that the surprised faces in the audience were saying,“Wow, I never imagined my boss would be vulnerable enough to share this embarrassing screw-up!”

Finally, Paul wrapped up the night with nothing less than a photo of himself dressed as a woman, and another one as a baby. Of course, naked. Isthere a better way to show vulnerability?

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m to introduce you to my boss.”

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The event came to an end. The audience was really amused by what had just happened. After I left the stage, I saw the magic of Fuckup Nights.

People are starting to share stories with one another, building more personal relationships with their leaders, and forming the deep connections that we so often overlook in our daily routines.

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It was meaningful and genuine, and everyone was on the same page—“we all make mistakes.”

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“Thank you very much for this. I’ve never had an experience like this before with my team,”a good man said to me, before asking how he could bring this to his team in Mexico.

m to introduce you to my boss; he definitely needs to hear some stories about failure,”said another woman, after taking a selfie with everyone.

Then another woman kissed my forehead as a sign of gratitude (I guess? I hope so).

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So now, after realizing why I was smiling “for no reason,” I actually realized how powerful it is to share your screw-ups at work. And not just at a Fuckup Nightsevent, but really anywhere—simply for the sake of opening up.

Because of the small seed it plants in everyone’s mind. Because of that small shift in mindset that sparks countless meaningful actions. Because of that vulnerability that brings people together and draws them closer, as fellow human beings.

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After proofreading this article, I realized I didn’t have a punchline. Or a conclusion. And I don’t think there’s any need for one. We just need to wait for the next Fuckup Night roll around.

As part of The Failure Program, we offer a variety of online courses, workshops, and private events, as well as a survey to assess how your company handles failure. Fill out this form, and let’s start working together to make failure work for you.

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