Push too hard in one direction, and nature pushes back. Forests catch fire. Rivers overflow. Ecosystems collapse. Balance is nature's resilience.

The same is true in business. When strategy gets lopsided, progress in one area can come at the unintended expense of another.

Inside organizations, we get excited about clever concepts and breakthrough plans. But even brilliant strategy—without full commitment—can fall flat. A great idea, half-executed, just looks dumb. Or worse, confusing.

Strategy isn’t self-fulfilling. It needs people to bring it to life with clarity, precision, and energy. Everyone playing their part. Everyone on tempo. Everyone believing it’s worth doing right.

“Reasoning is biased in favor of the reasoner.”

David McRaney dropped that gem in How Minds Change: The Surprising Science of Belief, Opinion, and Persuasion, and it’s one of those lines that just won’t leave me alone. It’s clever, sure. But it also nails something fundamentally true about how humans think—and why we’re better off thinking together.

When we reason on our own, our brains aren’t wired for objectivity. They’re wired for advocacy. We argue for our own perspectives with built-in bias and barely notice we’re doing it. 

Our brains are also lazy. Or, to be more charitable, efficient. Reasoning takes effort. So we delegate that cognitive load to others. It’s why the best thinking happens in groups—especially diverse groups—where we can distribute the mental workload, challenge each other’s assumptions, and sharpen each other’s thinking.

Do you remember The Dress controversy?

Back in 2015 a washed-out photo of a striped dress split the web: half the planet saw blue-black, the rest swore it was white-gold.

I recently came across an article that explained why so many of us conclusively saw something so different. Scientists found two key drivers: (1) the photo was low quality, forcing our brain’s visual system to “repair” missing data, and (2) people’s repairs depended on the light they were used to. Regular daylight dwellers mentally subtracted bluish light and perceived white-gold; night owls tended to discount yellowish bulbs and landed on blue-black. The real split was experience-driven guesswork by the predictive brain, which constantly fills gaps with prior knowledge to keep perception running smoothly. 

That same shortcut shows up whenever leaders drop a half-lit strategy note.

Steve Jobs. Serena Williams. Yo-Yo Ma.

Different fields, same formula: they all became legends by first being obsessive followers of their craft.

The best leaders I’ve met all started as world-class followers.

"He who cannot be a good follower cannot be a good leader"- Aristotle

Think about it. Great authors read obsessively. Great musicians are fans of other great artists. Great athletes are students of the game, watching tape like it’s their job, because it is. Observing is how mastery begins.

Did you know the word priority was only ever used in the singular form for hundreds of years?

It entered the English language in the 1400s and meant the very first thing—the one item that came before all others. And for the next 500 years, that’s how it stayed. Singular. Clear. Undeniable.

Then somewhere in the 20th century, we started saying “priorities.” Plural.

As if by declaring five things “most important,” we could bend time and energy to our will. It’s like claiming there were multiple winners in a race. Everyone gets a trophy, right? But that’s not how performance works. Not in competition. Not in strategy. Real focus doesn’t allow for handing out participation ribbons. It means hard choices. It declares a winner. It says: this comes first.

It’s tempting to think of “your team” as the people who report to you. That’s where your expertise is. That’s where you feel most accountable. And that’s where the outcomes often show up on paper.

But here’s the shift that separates great managers from great leaders:

Your peer leadership team is your first team. Your function is your second.

This mindset isn’t just for the C-suite. It applies to every level of management. If you lead people, your peer group is your primary team. And the sooner you embrace that, the more your strategy, execution, and trust across the business will improve.

In theory, “What do you think?” is an open-minded, inclusive, and collaborative question.

In practice, it can be a total disaster.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been in a handful of meetings where that question completely derailed the conversation. In each case, an idea was shared without any explanation of what problem it was solving or what objective it was trying to achieve.

The responses started rolling in.

They were enthusiastic. They were critical. They were long-winded.

We love to hate meetings.

Too many, too long, too little value. It’s the most universal workplace complaint out there. And it’s gotten so bad that “let’s not have another meeting” has practically become a badge of honor. In response, leaders and experts have doubled down on meeting hacks—timers, agendas, “no meeting Wednesdays,” or fancy door signs that declare, “This meeting could’ve been an email.”

But those are band-aids. They treat the symptoms, not the disease.

Great leadership starts with trust. And trust isn’t automatic—it’s something you build through consistent actions, honest communication, and a willingness to show up authentically.

Leaders who embrace integrity, vulnerability, and transparency create an environment where teams feel safe to take risks, admit mistakes, and align around a shared vision. These qualities don’t just strengthen relationships—they elevate execution.

Clarity is the difference between strategy that moves and strategy that stalls. If your team doesn’t “get” the strategy, you have no chance of executing it. Yet, clarity doesn’t happen by accident. It requires discipline: cutting through ambiguity, prioritizing what matters most, and ensuring that every person understands not just the what, but the why behind the strategy.

We tend to see agreement as a sign of harmony, alignment, and efficient decision-making.

But when every head nods in unison, I actually get a little nervous. Either we haven’t pushed hard enough—or someone doesn’t feel safe enough to speak up.

Consensus can feel like progress. But it often signals complacency.

I’ve seen it play out over and over. A leader floats an idea. Heads nod. The meeting ends five minutes early. Victory lap, right?

Not really. That’s usually a sign we’re either solving the wrong problem or we’ve just endorsed a half-baked solution. Because if a decision is meaningful, it should spark curiosity, resistance, even discomfort.

You know what spreads fast? Gossip.

And that’s exactly how your internal presentations should work. Not the toxic kind — but the sticky, retellable, easy-to-repeat kind. The kind of story that travels from meeting to meeting without you in the room and still lands the way you meant it to.

Too many internal decks require their creator to personally sherpa the message from team to team. That’s a fail. Your real goal should be to create a presentation so clear and simple that it becomes contagious. Even better — contagious and accurate. You want your audience not only to “get it,” but to become carriers of your story. Ambassadors, even.

Let’s break down what gossip gets right, and how we can borrow its best traits for internal communication.

Simon Sinek famously calls on us to “start with why.” But for strategy to truly stick, we also need to explain “why me?”

People commit when they see how their work matters—when the strategy doesn’t just make sense, but feels personal. That’s when execution takes off.

And behavioral science backs this up.

Every organization wrestles with the challenge of implementing new strategies while keeping the current business running. Teams are already fully engaged in their “day jobs”—what’s often referred to as business as usual (BAU) or run-the-business (RTB) work. This tension between sustaining current operations and pursuing strategic change is one of the most common pitfalls in execution.

While it’s essential to continue delivering results for the existing business, the truth is the status quo isn’t enough. If it were, we wouldn’t need a new strategy. Something isn’t working—whether it’s a current problem or an emerging challenge—and change is necessary. But change doesn’t magically happen in the margins of an already packed calendar. To succeed, we have to intentionally make room for it.

You’re in a leadership meeting, reviewing a critical initiative. A team member brings up a challenge—something that’s slowing down execution.

They lay it out, expecting a conversation. But before the discussion unfolds, someone jumps in with a quick fix:

“Just bring in IT.”

“Sounds like a process issue—let’s put a template in place.”

“ I see the problem—just do X.”

And just like that, the conversation moves on.

The leader thinks they’ve helped. They’ve offered a solution, checked a box, and kept things moving. But in doing so, they may have shut down the deeper conversation that needed to happen.

Maybe the real issue wasn’t the process, but misalignment across teams. Maybe it wasn’t a tech problem, but an unclear priority. But now, we’ll never know—because the discussion ended before it even started.

Communicating effectively is deceptively hard.

Think about it. Most of us struggle to communicate perfectly with our significant others—even after years together. If we can’t nail it at home, with people we know intimately, what hope do we have in a workplace filled with competing priorities, shifting dynamics, and far less emotional investment?

The truth is, good communication doesn’t happen by accident.

It takes intention. Structure. Practice.

When executing strategies, communication isn’t a “nice to have.” It’s the difference between success and chaos—or worse, apathy. Yet, in my experience, too many leaders treat communication as an afterthought, assuming a single email, presentation, or town hall will do the job.

It starts small. A missed deadline. A short-tempered reply in a meeting. A high-performer who suddenly seems distracted and disengaged.

Then, before you realize it, the signs pile up. Turnover increases. Projects slow down. Execution starts to feel like a grind instead of a focused push toward a goal. You can’t put your finger on exactly what changed, but something is different. Your team is running on fumes.

Stress is one of the most underestimated threats to execution. Left unmanaged, it erodes motivation, fractures teams, and derails even the most well-planned strategies. And yet, many leaders don’t see the damage until it’s too late.

No system is immune to stress. Even in the best-run organizations, the pressure of execution can push teams to their limits. That’s why, as coaches, we need to go beyond just setting up the right conditions—we need to actively manage stress on a daily basis, just as we would any other obstacle to execution.

Dr. Jon Ashton, founder of Strata Intel, has spent years studying the interplay between organizational stress and execution capacity. His company measures stress dynamics within organizations using validated, real-time assessments. Unlike traditional surveys that rely on self-reported data, Strata Intel pinpoints where stress exists and correlates it directly with execution performance.

Great communication isn’t a one-time event. It’s a process—a rhythm—that unfolds over time. Messages need to be reinforced, adapted, and repeated to stick. Leaders who miss this risk leaving their teams confused, unmotivated, and misaligned with the strategy.

In fact, the most common communication mistake leaders make is saying too little.

A study published in the Academy of Management Journal found that leaders are 10 times more likely to be criticized for under-communicating than over-communicating. Employees consistently report that their leaders don’t provide enough relevant information to meet their needs. What’s more, leaders who under-communicate are often perceived as less empathetic, less credible, and less effective. 

Simply put: When in doubt, say it again.

We tend to think motivation is about big rewards—raises, promotions, public recognition. But this experiment reveals something deeper. Just acknowledging someone’s effort—even in the smallest way—can be the difference between them staying engaged or checking out.

And the reverse is just as powerful. When we ignore effort, we don’t just fail to motivate. We actively demotivate.

Now, think back to your own workplace. How many times have you unintentionally drained someone’s motivation—by staying silent when you could have acknowledged their work?