There’s a psychological reason busyness is so appealing. Responding to messages, attending meetings, and resolving immediate issues creates the sense that work is getting done. These activities are visible and measurable. They create the appearance of momentum. But they often focus on short-term inputs rather than long-term outcomes. Many leaders find themselves spending entire days reacting rather than directing. The schedule fills itself with operational issues, leavi

When people hear about a cancer research breakthrough, the story often sounds simple. A discovery is announced. A new therapy shows promise. A headline declares progress. But what most people don’t see behind cancer research breakthroughs is the long, demanding path that leads to that moment. Scientific progress rarely arrives in a single dramatic leap. It comes through years of incremental work, careful experimentation, and persistence from researchers who are trying to a

People see the speed. They see the pass in Turn 1. They see the podium photo. They see the lap time. What they don’t see is the mental preparation in motorsport that makes any of it possible. In racing, the margin for error is measured in inches and milliseconds. You are operating at high speed, surrounded by competitors who are equally skilled, equally aggressive, and equally committed to winning. Physical preparation matters. Engineering matters. Strategy matters.

For more than a decade, policymakers have promoted value-based care as the future of American healthcare. Pay for outcomes. Reward quality over volume.Lower costs while improving patient care. On paper, it makes sense. In theory, it aligns incentives. In practice? The results are more complicated. If we’re serious about healthcare reform, we need to ask a straightforward question: Is value-based care actually delivering measurable results, or are we just relabeling the

There’s a phrase I’ve heard hundreds of times over the years: “Let me think about it.” In some cases, it’s justified. But more often, it’s a stalling tactic. A way to avoid risk. A cover for not wanting to be wrong. And in leadership, indecision is a decision. It just tends to be the most expensive one.

But what they don’t see is the grind behind the scenes. The years of effort, the research that doesn’t get funded, and the scientists struggling to keep momentum without institutional support.

Things started off looking strong for the Team TGM lineup at Daytona. The #46 qualified P4, and the #64 rolled off from P33. From the outset, both cars showed they were ready to compete.

Everyone agrees the healthcare system needs to change. But almost no one agrees on how to change it. And even when they do? It takes forever.

Every new year starts with noise. Resolutions. Predictions. Overwhelm disguised as motivation. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in leadership, whether in the boardroom, on the track, or at the Foundation, it’s that starting strong doesn’t mean doing everything. It means doing the right things, on purpose.

Most people think of philanthropy as charity. I think of it as an investment, with an expected return measured in discoveries, not dollars. At the JKTG Foundation, we don’t fund cancer research the traditional way. We don’t issue massive RFPs or wait for consensus to form. We move quickly, prioritize bold thinkers, and stay close to the science. Why? Because the diseases we’re up against, like breast cancer, won’t wait.

Racing looks like adrenaline. But it runs on calculation. You’re balancing tire wear, fuel strategy, competitor behavior, weather shifts, traffic, and more, all in real time. And you can’t afford to guess. One bad call costs you the race. One smart call can flip the entire outcome.

Transparency sounds like a good thing. And in many cases, it is. But in healthcare policy, I’ve seen a troubling pattern: Transparency gets weaponized. Not to inform decisions. Not to improve outcomes. But to delay progress, justify inaction, or create political cover.

There’s a myth in leadership that experience automatically makes you better. But I’ve learned, on the racetrack, in health policy, and in research funding, that experience without adaptability is just a heavier anchor. The world changes. Fast. And if you’re clinging to “what used to work,” you’re not leading. You’re coasting.

That’s what happened with a recent study the JKTG Foundation supported, one that explored how iron-based nanoparticles could help detect and treat tumors more safely. This wasn’t hype. It was smart, specific science. And it’s the kind of work we’re proud to back.

You don’t usually associate spreadsheets with survival rates. But that’s exactly the connection Dr. Paul Macklin is exploring in our latest Driving Research episode.

For decades, we’ve known Medicare’s financial challenges were coming. The math hasn’t changed. The program continues to spend more than it brings in, and the demographic reality is unavoidable: more retirees, fewer workers, and escalating healthcare costs.

There’s a common trap leaders fall into: They assume because they’ve seen something before, they know exactly how to handle it now. I’ve seen this play out in racing. I’ve seen it in healthcare policy meetings. I’ve seen it in boardrooms. And I’ve learned that past experience can mislead you if you treat it like gospel.

You get results: faster, sharper, and more aligned with what patients truly need. That was the driving force behind the 9th annual JKTG Symposium, held October 15, 2025 in Washington D.C. This year’s theme, "Improving Breast Cancer Outcomes: Revealing and Targeting Tumor–Immune Interactions," was more than a title. It was a call to action.

This weekend marked the final race of our season: Road Atlanta. And I’ll be honest… We knew all we had to do was start the race to win the Bronze Cup Championship. But that’s never been how we operate. We came to compete.

If you want to slow progress down, wrap it in red tape. That’s the reality for far too much medical research in this country. Scientists with bold ideas spend more time formatting grant proposals than actually running experiments. And when the funding does come through, it’s often a year too late, tied up in approval cycles, institutional requirements, and layers of administrative overhead. The worst part? Some of the most promising ideas never even get submitted. They’re too