Frontline accounts of operational service offer insight into leadership in environments where risk is constant and outcomes depend on collective performance rather than individual action. Reflections drawn from experiences at sea and captured through works such as Peter Scott’s “Running Deep”, highlight how preparation, trust, and shared responsibility shape decision-making under pressure.
At deep diving depth, there is no margin for panic. The submarine was operating off the coast of Western Australia, preparing for a classified deployment expected to last three to four months, when a flexible hose failed without warning. Seawater burst through the rupture at a rate almost impossible to comprehend, flooding into the vessel at roughly a tonne per second.
Peter Scott would later explain it in terms anyone could grasp. It was like “a hundred cartons of beer ripping into your submarine through a couple of holes about the size of your fist every second,” accompanied by shock, noise, and the violent realisation that survival depended entirely on what happened next.
Inside a submarine, there is nowhere to retreat and no external help to call upon. Everything depends on the people already there, including their training, judgement, and ability to execute without hesitation. What saved them that day was neither instinct nor improvisation, but preparation. The crew carried out their emergency procedures exactly as trained, stabilising the submarine, bringing her safely to the surface, and eventually returning alongside after the danger had passed.
For Peter, that moment distilled something fundamental about submarines and leadership. Survival did not come from individual brilliance. It came from collective competence.
It’s this lived experience that sits at the centre of Running Deep, and it is the experience Peter discussed with Greg T Ross on The Last Post Magazine podcast, reflecting not only on the events themselves but on the deeper lessons about responsibility, people, and the quiet discipline required to operate in environments where mistakes carry irreversible consequences.
A life shaped by service, long before the sea
Peter’s journey into submarines began long before he ever set foot on one. Service was embedded in his family history, not as an abstract ideal but as an everyday reality shaped by those around him. His grandfather had served in the First World War, and his father dedicated his career to public service, creating a framework in which contributing to something larger than oneself felt entirely natural.
“It really wasn’t much of a stretch at all for me to find myself in a service,” Peter reflected, describing how those early influences quietly shaped his sense of direction. “It was just natural for me.”
Yet submarines themselves were not part of his original plan. As a boy, he had imagined flying jets in the Air Force, drawn by the same fascination with flight and speed that captures so many young minds. The shift toward submarines came later, after years of naval experience and a growing awareness of what service demanded, not only from him but from those around him.
He recognised that military life imposed sacrifice, particularly on family, and that if he was going to accept those costs, he wanted his contribution to carry weight. Submarines represented that opportunity. They embodied decisive capability, strategic relevance, and an operational intensity unmatched elsewhere in naval service.
“I thought, all right, well we’ve got boats, maybe that’s the place for me,” he said, describing the moment he chose the submarine service deliberately rather than by accident.
That decision would define the next three decades of his life.
The psychology of operating unseen
Submarines exist in paradox. They are among the most powerful weapons systems available to any navy, capable of delivering decisive force across vast distances, yet they remain inherently vulnerable. Their strength depends entirely on remaining undetected.
Peter described this duality as something that shapes not only operations but the mindset of those who serve aboard them.
“We’re conscious not just of the tremendous power and offensive potential of the submarines, but also quite conscious of the vulnerabilities,” he explained. “You need to be very conscious of where your vulnerabilities are in order to operate to your strengths.”
This awareness creates a distinctive psychological environment, one where calm thinking under pressure becomes essential. The submarine itself is merely machinery without its crew. It acquires character through the people who operate it.
“Without the people, they are truly soulless,” Peter said. “With the people, they absolutely have their own character.”
The culture that emerges inside submarines reflects that reality. Hierarchy exists, but trust matters more. Authority carries weight, but competence earns belief. Leadership is measured continuously, not declared.
Leadership where there is no distance between decision and consequence
The flooding incident remained one of the clearest expressions of what leadership means in such an environment. There was no time for reflection or consultation beyond what training had already embedded. The crew responded not because they were told to in that moment, but because they had prepared together repeatedly, developing both technical proficiency and mutual confidence.
Peter never framed the event as an act of heroism. He saw it as proof of something quieter and more enduring, the effectiveness of shared discipline.
“What absolutely saved us on the day was the training and the skill and the teamwork of the crew on board,” he said, emphasising the collective nature of survival.
That lesson extended far beyond submarines. It revealed that leadership is inseparable from preparation, and that trust is built long before it is needed.
The most critical decisions often occur in conditions where there is no space for uncertainty, and the leader’s responsibility lies not only in directing others but in creating the conditions where those others can act with confidence and clarity.
The human cost of endurance and growth
Submarine service also demanded personal adaptation, particularly during Peter’s early years. Like many young officers, he confronted homesickness, uncertainty, and the intensity of an environment that left little room for hesitation.
He spoke openly about the cultural realities of naval life, including the heavy drinking culture that shaped social bonds and coping mechanisms during his formative years.
“I became probably a victim of that and probably a protagonist of that culture,” he said candidly, acknowledging both the camaraderie and the consequences that accompanied it.
This honesty reflects one of Running Deep’s most compelling qualities. Peter presents his development not as a linear ascent but as an ongoing process shaped by experience, reflection, and correction.
“We’re always changing and hopefully always evolving towards some better version of ourselves,” he said, summarising the mindset that carried him through both operational challenges and personal growth.
That evolution did not weaken his leadership. It strengthened it.
Submarines as instruments of national strategy
Peter also reflected on the strategic significance of submarines within Australia’s defence posture, describing their ability to operate independently in distant waters while creating uncertainty for potential adversaries.
“They build up a question mark in the minds of regional naval officers or political leaders,” he explained, highlighting how their presence shapes decision-making even when they remain unseen.
This capacity to influence events without visibility mirrors the leadership philosophy he developed personally. Impact does not require recognition. Effectiveness often occurs quietly.
Carrying lessons from the depths into new forms of service
When Peter retired from full-time naval service in 2017 after 34 years, he did not step away from the principles that had defined his career. Instead, he redirected them.
His interest in people, decision-making, and leadership led him to study coaching psychology and begin working with senior leaders, including those still serving in the Navy.
“I’ve always been interested in people and engaging with people and understanding how to live and best work with people,” he said, describing the continuity between his operational career and his current work.
His coaching now draws directly on lessons learned in environments where leadership carried immediate consequences. It reflects an understanding that leadership is less about authority and more about responsibility, less about control and more about stewardship.
Writing as a continuation of service
Running Deep emerged from this same impulse. Peter wrote the book to share insight into a world rarely seen from the outside, one shaped by discipline, vulnerability, and collective trust.
“I think I wrote the book to offer people an insight into what is a genuinely rare way of life,” he said, describing its purpose simply and directly.
The flooding incident remains its most vivid expression of that life, not because it represents exceptional drama, but because it reveals the deeper truth beneath submarine service.
Leadership is forged through preparation, survival depends on others, and responsibility is carried quietly. And sometimes, deep beneath the surface, when the sea itself forces its way inside, everything a leader has learned is tested in a single moment.
This article is based on original reporting by Greg T. Ross.
