A Bold New Direction. Again.

/null enters a corporate restructuring meeting after leadership announces a bold new direction and responds, โ€œAgain.โ€

Organizations love a fresh start.

โ€œWe have a bold new direction.โ€

Maybe.

New leaders arrive. Priorities shift. Departments merge. Reporting lines move. Someone inevitably creates a slide containing arrows pointing toward something called the future state.

Sometimes those changes are necessary.

Organizations have to adapt. Markets change. Technology changes. Strategies that once worked stop working.

But changing the organization and changing the system are not necessarily the same thing.

Move enough boxes around an organizational chart and everything looks different.

The more useful question is whether anything underneath it actually changed.

Follow What Actually Changed

Structure matters.

Reporting relationships, responsibilities, authority, staffing, and resources can all affect how an organization performs.

A poorly designed structure can create duplication, slow decisions, hide accountability, and give people responsibility without the authority to act.

Changing that structure can solve real problems.

But structure is only one part of the system.

The incentives may still be the same.

The information may still flow through the same bottlenecks.

The same decisions may still require the same approvals.

The same behaviors may still be rewarded.

The same assumptions may still drive the same decisions.

And the problem that justified the restructure may still be sitting underneath all of it.

So before being impressed by how much changed, I want to know what changed in the system.

Change Can Become a Loop

Jim Collins described two useful ideas in Good to Great: the Flywheel and the Doom Loop.

The flywheel is the one I believe in and try to build on, both at work and in my own life.

The basic idea is simple.

Progress does not have to come from one enormous breakthrough.

You make a good decision. You learn from the result. You make the next decision a little better. You keep what works. You correct what does not. Then you push again.

Each turn builds on the last.

Eventually those individual improvements begin reinforcing one another.

That applies to organizations, technology, careers, skills, finances, relationships, and just about anything else worth improving.

It is not particularly dramatic.

That is part of why I like it.

Activity creates motion. Learning creates momentum.

The Doom Loop works differently.

A problem appears.

A new direction is announced.

The organization restructures.

The restructure creates disruption of its own.

Results take longer than expected.

Confidence fades.

Another new direction arrives.

And everyone pushes a different flywheel.

The organization can be incredibly busy while accumulating very little.

Did It Work?

This is the part of organizational change that interests me most.

What happens after the announcement?

If we knew what problem justified the change, we should eventually be able to determine whether the change affected it.

  • What outcome were we trying to change?
  • What changed in the system?
  • What happened afterward?
  • What did we learn?
  • What are we keeping?

Those questions create a feedback loop.

They allow the next decision to start with what the organization learned from the previous one.

That is how the flywheel keeps turning.

Without that feedback, change can become its own justification.

The restructure proves something needed to change.

The disappointing result proves something still needs to change.

And another restructure becomes evidence that the organization is responding.

There is plenty of motion.

Whether there is momentum is another question.

Build on What You Learn

This is why the flywheel has stuck with me beyond organizational strategy.

It is how I prefer to approach work and life.

Understand where you are.

Make the best decision you can with the evidence you have.

Pay attention to what happens.

Keep what worked.

Change what did not.

Then start the next turn with more knowledge than you had before.

That does not mean never making a major change. Sometimes the evidence tells you that a major change is exactly what the system needs.

But even a major change should become part of the next turn, not erase everything that came before it.

The goal is not constant change.

The goal is accumulated progress.


Leadership announces:

โ€œWe have a bold new direction.โ€

The presentation explains the vision.

Transform.

Optimize.

Realign.

Future state.

Then /null finally enters the room.

โ€œAgain.โ€

Sometimes one word is enough to identify the pattern.

The question is not whether the organization is changing.

It is whether this turn builds on the last one, or starts the same loop all over again.

Weโ€™re Like a Family Here.

/null holding a coffee mug as a coworker says, โ€œWeโ€™re like a family here,โ€ and /null replies, โ€œSo... nepotism or incest.โ€

There are phrases we hear so often that eventually we stop asking what they mean.

โ€œWeโ€™re like a family here.โ€

It sounds good.

Trust. Loyalty. People looking out for one another.

Then /null takes it literally.

โ€œSo… nepotism or incest.โ€

And suddenly the metaphor has a problem.

What Does โ€œFamilyโ€ Actually Mean?

The interesting part isnโ€™t whether the phrase is stupid.

The interesting part is why organizations use it.

Usually theyโ€™re trying to describe something positive. Trust. Commitment. Loyalty. Shared responsibility. People willing to help each other when things go sideways.

Those are good things.

But a workplace isnโ€™t a family.

A family relationship exists whether it is productive or not. A working relationship exists because two sides are exchanging value.

You provide time, judgment, knowledge, and effort.

The organization provides compensation, opportunity, resources, and an environment where you can hopefully do useful work.

That doesnโ€™t make the relationship cold.

It makes it honest.

Watch What the System Does

Iโ€™ve spent most of my career working with systems.

Technology. Security. Organizations. Processes. Teams.

One lesson transfers remarkably well between them: donโ€™t judge a system only by what it says it does.

Watch what it actually does.

A company can call itself a family.

Then the company has a bad quarter.

Budgets get cut.

Projects disappear.

Departments get reorganized.

People get laid off.

That doesnโ€™t automatically make the organization bad. Sometimes those decisions are necessary for the organization to survive.

But nobody announces at Thanksgiving that Grandma has been eliminated because her position no longer aligns with the familyโ€™s strategic priorities.

At least not at the better Thanksgivings.

So maybe โ€œfamilyโ€ isnโ€™t describing the system very well.

Ignore the Poster on the Wall

If you want to understand an organization, look at its incentives and behavior.

  • What behavior gets rewarded?
  • What behavior gets punished?
  • What happens when resources become scarce?
  • Who absorbs the cost when something fails?
  • What happens when someone delivers bad news?
  • Do the actions match the stated values?

A poster on the wall can say PEOPLE FIRST.

The operating system underneath it might say something completely different.

The operating system wins.

Every time.

Build the Relationship You Actually Want

None of this means people shouldnโ€™t care about the people they work with.

They should.

Some of the strongest relationships Iโ€™ve built came from working beside people through difficult problems.

Trust gets built when someone does what they said they would do. When they tell you they screwed up before you discover it yourself. When they share what they know. When they challenge you when youโ€™re wrong. When they show up when things go sideways.

None of that requires pretending weโ€™re related.

Maybe the better model is simpler.

We have a job to do.

We depend on one another.

We treat people fairly.

We disagree without destroying each other.

We share credit.

We take responsibility.

And when circumstances change, we tell people the truth.

That doesnโ€™t sound as warm as โ€œweโ€™re a family.โ€

But it describes something worth building.

Question the Abstraction

Language matters because language creates assumptions.

Once an assumption becomes familiar enough, we stop examining it.

Thatโ€™s where bad abstractions survive.

Sometimes the easiest way to test one is to strip away the comfortable meaning and ask what the words actually describe.

Organizations donโ€™t need to pretend employment is something it isnโ€™t.

They need to build relationships people donโ€™t have to pretend to believe in.


โ€œWeโ€™re like a family here.โ€

/null: โ€œSo… nepotism or incest.โ€