The people function tends to land in one of two places. Employee advocacy: protect people from the business. Or administrative process: run the paperwork that keeps the business compliant. Either way, the role is reactive. Either way, it sits downstream of the decisions that actually shape how work gets done.

Gia Ganesh, CPO and SVP of People and Culture at Florence Healthcare, calls herself a business leader who takes the lens of people. Not a people leader who happens to work in business. The accountability isn’t to engagement scores or retention metrics. It’s to execution speed. Are people decisions accelerating the company or slowing it down?

People decisions compound. And they compound fast.

Hire someone, see how it plays out over a few quarters. Move someone into a role, give it time. The feedback loop feels long.

Gia sees it differently. The right person making the right calls creates momentum that builds on itself. The wrong person making the wrong calls detracts immediately. Not eventually. Immediately. People decisions are a force multiplier, she says, and leaders don’t appreciate how quickly the math works, in either direction.

The damage from a bad hire becomes structural before anyone names it. A good hire often goes unnoticed because the work just flows. Nobody traces the cause when things are going well.

Hiring is the most consequential business decision an organization makes repeatedly. It belongs at the center of strategy, not at the end of a requisition process.

Underperformance is usually a clarity problem, not a motivation problem.

Someone isn’t performing. The default diagnosis is motivation. They’re not hungry enough. They don’t care. They need a better incentive structure.

Gia’s experience points somewhere else. Unclear context. Ambiguous priorities. Unspoken trade-offs. A mismatch between what someone brings and what the role actually requires. If someone can only walk and they’re on a team that runs, no incentive fixes that. It’s a fit problem, or a communication problem, or both.

The shift shows up in how managers run one-on-ones. Here are the goals, here are your priorities, here’s what I need from you this quarter. That’s how the conversation usually goes. Gia inverts it. Can you tell me what our business is trying to do? How does your work connect to the team’s goals? What trade-offs are you making? Who are you depending on?

Two people can sit in the same room, talk about the same project, and be working toward entirely different things. The gap between what a manager assumes and what an employee is actually building is where performance quietly falls apart.

Culture doesn’t hold. It dilutes with every hire.

Naming the values, setting the norms, creating the rituals. Leaders love the origin story, the early days when everyone was aligned and the energy was right.

Gia has watched what happens next, growing a team from 10 employees to over 275. Every person who enters either adds to the culture or takes something away from it. There is no neutral hire. The operating rhythm that felt natural at 30 people starts requiring deliberate reinforcement at 150, then again at 250, and the work never finishes.

Hiring is the most important cultural act. Not the values on the wall. Not the offsite. Not the Slack channel. The decision about who you bring in, repeated hundreds of times, is what the culture actually becomes.

Want to know what an organization values? Look at who they keep hiring and what those people do when nobody is managing them.

The lens, not the function

People leaders have been arguing for a seat at the table for years. What Gia does differently is attach specific accountability to the position. Not influence, not advocacy. Accountability for whether execution speeds up or slows down based on how people are hired, managed, and supported.

Take the people lens seriously and you hire as if every person changes the culture, because they do. You check for shared understanding before you question someone’s motivation. You stop treating people work as the soft side of business and start treating it as the place where execution lives or dies.

The people lens doesn’t make leadership softer. It makes it more honest about where results come from.

In early 2024, Zvezdara Digital was performing well by most external measures. The company, founded in 2016 by Dragan Pavlović, had grown to 140 employees and established itself as one of Belgrade’s stronger independent analytics consultancies, known for its data engineering capabilities and a reputation among regional clients for high-touch, relationship-driven service. Revenue had grown at a compound annual rate of roughly 18% since 2019, and the company had maintained client retention rates above 90% for three consecutive years.

Pavlović, however, was not satisfied. Margins had compressed slightly in 2023 despite rising revenues, and several senior hires brought in from larger firms had remarked on the absence of standardized processes. The company had grown organically, and its operating culture reflected that history. “We were a relationship-driven company,” Pavlović told us in January 2026. “That’s a polite way of saying nothing was systematized. The quality of any given project depended almost entirely on who was staffed to it.”

In March 2024, Pavlović recruited Milena Vasić as Chief Operating Officer. Vasić had spent eight years at Deloitte’s Belgrade office and three years leading operations for a mid-size fintech in Novi Sad. Her mandate, as Pavlović described it, was to “build a company that could scale without depending on any single person’s knowledge or goodwill.”

Vasić’s first initiative was a company-wide time audit conducted over six weeks, in which all billable employees logged their activities in fifteen-minute increments. The results confirmed what Pavlović had suspected: approximately 40% of billable employees’ time was allocated to activities with no direct connection to project deliverables. These included recurring meetings without documented agendas, informal consultations between colleagues that extended well beyond the original question, unstructured mentoring of junior staff, and what Vasić’s team categorized as “ambient coordination” — the ongoing, low-intensity social interaction through which information and context had traditionally moved through the organization.

“There was a lot of warmth in the company,” Vasić observed. “People genuinely liked being here. But you have to ask what that warmth is producing. Engagement is not the same as output.”

The resulting transformation was implemented in three phases over approximately eighteen months.

Phase one: meeting culture. Zvezdara had no formal meeting policy. Teams held standing syncs based on habit rather than demonstrated need, and it was common for meetings scheduled for thirty minutes to extend to an hour. Vasić introduced what she termed a “decision-rights framework,” requiring that every recurring meeting have a documented purpose, a designated decision owner, and a quarterly justification for its continuation. Meetings that existed primarily to share information were converted to written updates distributed asynchronously.

Within four months, the number of recurring meetings across the company dropped from 112 per week to 53. Average meeting duration fell from 48 minutes to 25. In internal surveys conducted after the transition, the change was widely regarded as positive. Senior analyst Jelena Mirković, a seven-year veteran of the firm, noted that her project throughput had increased measurably. “I used to lose whole mornings,” she said. “Now I can actually think.” Her output, as tracked by the company’s project management system, rose by 22% in the two quarters following implementation.

Phase two: communication infrastructure. In the second half of 2024, Vasić migrated the company from a fragmented communication environment — a mix of Slack channels, email threads, and informal desk-side conversations — to what she described as an “async-first protocol.” Status updates, project questions, and cross-team requests that had previously required scheduling a synchronous conversation were restructured as threaded written posts with defined response windows of twenty-four hours.

The office, which had been notable among visitors for its open-plan energy — conversations audible across the floor, clusters of people gathered around whiteboards — grew perceptibly quieter. Team lead Nikola Đorđević, who had been at Zvezdara since 2018, described the transition as significant. “It was an adjustment,” he said. “Some people missed the noise. But the data was clear, and at some point you have to respect the data.”

The data, in this case, was unambiguous. Response times on client deliverables improved by 18%. Internal blockers — defined by Vasić’s team as any task stalled for more than four hours waiting for input from a colleague — declined by more than half. These metrics were tracked weekly and published on an internal dashboard accessible to all employees, a transparency initiative Vasić considered essential to maintaining buy-in.

During a site visit to the Belgrade office in October 2025, we were able to observe the async-first culture in practice. The floor was calm and focused. Mirković arrived at her desk at approximately 8:15 and began reviewing a client model. At around 8:40, a colleague from the data infrastructure team, Marko Janković, stopped at her desk with a question about a parameter in a shared dataset. They resolved the issue in roughly ninety seconds. As Janković turned to leave, he mentioned that his daughter had started primary school that week. “Already?” Mirković said, smiling. “Send me a photo.” Both were back at their screens before the exchange reached two minutes. According to several employees we interviewed, a comparable interaction in the pre-transformation Zvezdara would have continued for ten or fifteen minutes, often drawing in colleagues from adjacent desks, sometimes leading to an impromptu coffee break. That this no longer occurs is, from a productivity standpoint, precisely the point.

Phase three: onboarding and knowledge transfer. In early 2025, Vasić turned her attention to how the company integrated new hires. Historically, Zvezdara’s onboarding had been informal and relationship-intensive: new employees spent their first two weeks rotating among senior staff, sitting alongside experienced analysts, absorbing institutional context through proximity and conversation. The approach was popular internally and was frequently cited in recruiting as a distinguishing feature of the company’s culture.

Vasić replaced it with a structured digital onboarding pathway consisting of video modules, self-paced documentation, and standardized check-in assessments administered at days three, seven, and fourteen. Time-to-productivity for new hires, as measured by the number of weeks before a new analyst could be staffed independently to a client engagement, dropped from an average of six weeks to just over three. Senior staff recovered an estimated fifteen hours per new hire that had previously been devoted to unstructured mentoring.

Đorđević described the old system as “rich but inefficient. You’d spend a whole afternoon with a new person, and maybe 30% of that time was actually relevant to their role. The rest was context they didn’t need yet, or stories about clients from three years ago.” He acknowledged that some employees found the new system impersonal but maintained that it was fairer. “Under the old model, some people got great mentors and some didn’t. It was luck. The new system is more equitable.”

Mirković, who had informally mentored at least a dozen new analysts over her seven years at the company, largely agreed. “I do miss it, sometimes,” she said. “You’d really get to know someone in those first weeks. It wasn’t just about work — you’d learn where they grew up, what they studied, what they were hoping to do.” She paused. “I had coffee with one of the January hires last week. Realized I didn’t know where she was from. But the new system is better for them, honestly. It’s more consistent.”

This pattern — staff framing the old culture with genuine affection while describing it, in the next sentence, as unsustainable — appeared in virtually every employee interview we conducted. Vasić had anticipated this and had encouraged managers to acknowledge the emotional dimension of the transition openly. “I never told anyone the old way was bad,” she said. “I told them it was expensive, and that we needed to decide whether we could afford it.”

The financial impact of the transformation has been significant. EBITDA margin improved from 14% to 19% over the eighteen-month period. Revenue per employee increased by 16%. Client retention held steady at 91%, and the company’s Net Promoter Score among clients rose modestly, from 62 to 67, which Vasić attributes to faster delivery and more predictable project timelines.

Employee-facing metrics present a more complex picture. Glassdoor ratings remained above 4.0 throughout the period, though the language in reviews changed noticeably. Recent entries include phrases such as “great place to do focused work,” “very professional,” and “low drama” — language that contrasts with the pre-2024 reviews, which more frequently used phrases like “family feel,” “amazing people,” and “best team I’ve ever worked with.”

Voluntary attrition, which had held at approximately 9% through 2024, rose to 14% in the second half of 2025. Vasić attributed this primarily to labor market dynamics: Serbia’s technology sector saw a 23% increase in open positions during the same period, driven by the expansion of several multinational outsourcing operations in Belgrade and Novi Sad. “We’re losing people to better offers, not to dissatisfaction,” she said. Exit interview data supports this interpretation. Among the twenty-three employees who departed voluntarily during this period, eighteen cited compensation as the primary factor, three cited career progression, and two cited relocation. None identified culture or working conditions as a reason for leaving.

Mirković herself has not indicated any intention to leave the company. In her most recent performance review, she received the highest rating in her department. Her manager, in written evaluation comments shared with us, described her as “the model of what a Zvezdara analyst looks like going forward — autonomous, high-output, low-maintenance.”

Pavlović is now exploring what he describes as “phase four” of the transformation: an AI-assisted project allocation system that would match analysts to client engagements based on skill profiles, availability, and historical performance data. The system, which is being developed in collaboration with a machine learning consultancy in Vienna, is intended to replace the informal negotiation that currently takes place among team leads when new projects are staffed. “Every time a human makes a staffing decision based on who they know rather than who’s optimal, that’s friction,” Pavlović said. “The goal is to remove friction from every step of the value chain.”

When asked where the transformation ultimately leads, Vasić did not hesitate. “A company where every hour produces value and every process justifies its own existence. Where you don’t carry costs you can’t explain. That’s not radical. That’s just good management.”

Zvezdara Digital is a fictional company. The management practices described in this case are widely adopted.

Recently I took some quiet time to turn an ongoing observation about team performance into something usable. I built a short Team Vision course that captures how teams step into a higher level of ownership—and how they drift away from it over time.

Take the Course

In every team there is a space that often goes unclaimed—not because it is forbidden or withheld, but because no one explicitly asks for it and few people think to step into it. When teams do claim this space, we label them “high-performing” and act surprised by the outcome, largely because it is uncommon outside of early-stage startups, even though it does occasionally emerge inside large organizations as well.

I’ve been fascinated by this pattern for years. Why do people placed in nearly identical situations end up with such different results? Again and again, the answer wasn’t talent, intelligence, or even effort, but structure. Robert Fritz’s work on structural dynamics gave me language for what I was seeing: behavior follows the path of least resistance. If you want different behavior, you don’t motivate harder or push through—you change the structure so the desired path becomes easier than the default.

I’ve applied this perspective in my work as an executive coach at Groove Management, partnering with technical leaders at companies like Databricks, Reltio, and LucidLink. I’ve also lived it firsthand in my own startup, Traction5, where I learned—often the hard way—what happens when you build from problems instead of from a clear vision of what you’re trying to create.

Along the way, I wrote about these ideas—why “fall in love with the problem” is often bad startup advice, and why some teams seem to grind endlessly while others steadily build. Those pieces resonated, not because they were novel, but because people recognized themselves in them.

Part of the challenge is that we’re surrounded by bad advice. We learn from survivor narratives—stories where success is explained using the language our culture rewards, like hustle, grit, and relentless problem-solving, even when an entirely different structure was what actually drove the outcome. What people say they did and what truly produced results are often not the same thing.

So I built the methodology into a product.

Team Vision Course. Free. Everything included.

The core idea is simple: great teams build toward something they can recognize, not just away from what’s broken. They hold a vision concrete enough to point to, alongside a clear and honest view of current reality, without judgment or spin. The gap between the two becomes a source of pull, not pressure.

Where many frameworks rely on pushing—hit the goal, close the gap, try harder—this one creates pull instead. When a team can hold both vision and reality at the same time, the distance between them generates momentum rather than stress.

What’s inside:

• Videos that walk through the model and three detailed case studies (IBM Watson Health, Figma, and Convoy).

• Canvas you can work through with your team.

• Facilitation guide that captures the traps I most often see teams fall into.

• Practice exercises designed to sharpen recognition before you ever try to run it live.

I’m hoping for the course to be used on its own with colleagues, startups, or side projects. If you run it, I'd like to hear what happened. Some teams will want a facilitator, rather than wearing both the builder and facilitator hats. If that kind of support is useful, I’m available.

Enroll Today

The space between what’s required and what’s forbidden is far larger than most teams realize. This course is about learning to see it, and then claim it.

These are the five disciplines of command in the age of complexity. Master them together, or watch each fail alone.

1.Mastery Over Self

The first command is over the self. To master the mind is to free it from its own certainties. To master emotion is to steady the hand when the storm rises. To master instinct is to choose, not react. The commander who achieves this need not pretend to know everything — they know what they don’t know.

2. Courage to Burn Old Maps

Every general fights with maps. No map is ever complete. Victory belongs to the one who can march with more than one map in hand — and celebrate when they must discard the one that brought them this far. The commander who never burns old maps ends up fighting the last war twice.

3. Vision Carried, Not Sold

Vision created alone is the vision that dies alone. The strongest banner is woven from the aspirations of those who must carry it into battle. The discipline is not merely to raise the banner, but to weave it from threads you didn’t choose, in colors you didn’t expect, creating something stronger than your imagination alone could design.

4. Council of Many Minds

The strongest councils are those where many tongues speak and many minds spar. The disciplined commander convenes such councils, sits through the discomfort of fundamental disagreement, and draws wisdom not from the voice that speaks loudest but from the pattern that emerges from the clash.

5. The Networked Battlefield

The amateur sees only the enemy in front of them. Yet every battlefield is a node in a larger network. Enemies are dispersed, adaptive, and linked through invisible ties. Action in one place ripples across, triggers counterattacks, and shifts balances once thought stable. Control slips through your fingers if you cling to straight lines.

Why All Five

These disciplines are not tools in a toolkit. They are shields in a phalanx. One gap exposes all.

• Mastery over self without courage to burn old maps becomes rigidity.

• Shared vision without many minds becomes propaganda.

• Council of many minds without network awareness becomes groupthink.

• Networked thinking without shared vision becomes paralysis.

The leaders who endure in the age of complexity don’t stack these disciplines one after another. They weave them together, practicing them simultaneously, creating a kind of command not for the battlefields of the past but for the shifting terrain of now.

A certain General Peter Senge once mapped these same battle-tested practices, though he wrapped them in big academic words. This essay is simply a field translation of his doctrine — same edge, fewer syllables, sharper steel.

Doctrine may be written in theory, but command is proven in the field.

I've known Ken for over three years through health tech events across our community. When we launched Advisory5, he was among the first advisors I approached—his combination of entrepreneurial grit and strategic thinking made him invaluable to our startup ecosystem. But when Ken left his CIO role for academia, I knew there was a deeper transformation story worth exploring.

The Practitioner-Philosopher Bridge

Ken's transition represents something rare in academia: genuine street-smart wisdom entering institutional leadership. "I'm a product of the streets of Charlotte," Ken explained. "A lot of my education is practical—what some folks would call street learning."

Most career transitions follow predictable patterns, but Ken's move from CIO to Dean represents what I call the practitioner-philosopher bridge. He understands that traditional business education has become disconnected from the messy realities entrepreneurs face, while recognizing the deep value in academic rigor.

What surprised Ken most during his listening tour was discovering what he calls "a lot of love at Barton." People genuinely wanted to be there and engage meaningfully with students. The challenge wasn't motivation—it was creating channels for that energy to flow into innovation.

The Six P's: Evolution, Not Revolution

Ken's operational framework—what he calls the "six P's"—demonstrates how listening translates into systematic change: Positioning, Programs, Partnerships, Pilots, Proof, and "Platformization" (his invented term for creating scalable innovation environments).

But unlike typical academic planning, these aren't abstract concepts. Ken is implementing specific, funded initiatives that bridge academic rigor with real-world application:

The Barton Undergraduate Journal: Students researching, writing, and peer-reviewing academic work—typically reserved for graduate programs. When Ken proposed this to faculty, he watched professors become genuinely excited about meaningful collaboration. "There you go, there's one right there," Ken said, describing how real projects emerge from community conversations.

Neuro Data Analytics Partnership: Using brain-monitoring technology to quantify historically unquantifiable emotions—calmness, focus, frustration. Ken's already seen this technology help a high school swimmer in Maryland manage pre-race anxiety. For Barton's business students, it represents a bridge into healthcare administration and the business of wellness.

Corporate Sponsorship Model: Learning from MIT's self-funding research centers, Ken's building what he calls a "sponsor wall" where companies invest in specific projects. "I had sponsors like IBM, and a bunch of smaller Wichita-based companies, but also Silicon Valley and Boston-based sponsors," Ken explained, referencing his successful model at Wichita State.

The Innovation Cohort Model

The most ambitious initiative is what we've been developing together: the "Dean's Innovation Cohort." Think of it as Advisory5 methodology applied to academic institutions—student-driven projects with faculty and external mentors, 90-day pilot cycles, defined outcomes, and corporate sponsors funding meaningful work.

This addresses multiple challenges simultaneously: Students get hands-on experience with real stakes. Faculty get revived through meaningful collaboration. Companies get access to fresh thinking and potential talent pipeline. The community benefits from solutions to actual problems.

Beyond Skills to Sense-Making

What Ken understands—and what most educational leaders miss—is that the future isn't about teaching skills; it's about teaching sense-making. His framework moves students through what he calls "Ken's data taxonomy": data to information to knowledge to insight to wisdom.

"The cool thing about wisdom is much bigger," Ken explained. "You've got this wisdom of all these experiences that make up who you are. You've got the ability to discern and make those one or two degree vector changes in your life or in your project."

The Culture Work Strategy

Ken's approach to institutional change offers lessons for any leader trying to transform established organizations. Rather than forcing change, he's finding existing pockets of energy and creating opportunities for meaningful re-engagement.

"Everybody wants to be part of something amazing," Ken observed. "It's just a balance—is it worth it for me to give up my routine when I've got my security?"

By making opportunities genuinely exciting rather than mandatory, Ken's creating conditions where even skeptical faculty choose to engage. The key insight: resistance often masks unfulfilled potential. When he proposed the undergraduate journal project, he watched faculty engagement levels change immediately. People weren't opposed to innovation—they were starved for meaningful work.

AI Forces the Human Question

Perhaps the most profound insight from our conversation was Ken's perspective on AI's impact on education. Rather than seeing AI as a threat, he views it as an opportunity to reclaim what makes us human.

"Gen AI is not going to take your job, but someone who knows Gen AI is going to take your job," Ken noted. "But the cool thing about AI is that it gives us the chance to participate in this world in new and different ways—ways we probably should have been participating all along."

Students arrive post-COVID as what Ken calls "tabula rasa"—less socialized but more open to learning how to engage meaningfully. This creates an unexpected opportunity for educators to help students develop the human capabilities that AI can't replicate.

This connects directly to what we see at Traction5 and Advisory5: as technical tasks become automated, the human elements—wisdom, judgment, relationship-building, meaning-making—become premium skills. Educational institutions that can teach these capabilities while providing practical application will create enormous value in an AI-dominated economy.

The Scalable Model

Ken's experiment at Barton is designed to be replicable. We're already discussing how to take the Dean's Innovation Cohort model to other institutions, leveraging our combined networks and proven frameworks.

The economic model is compelling: corporate sponsors fund real projects, students gain practical experience, faculty get revived through meaningful work, and communities benefit from solutions to actual problems. The sustainability comes from creating value for all stakeholders rather than depending solely on traditional funding models.

Companies get research value and talent pipeline access. Faculty get meaningful collaboration opportunities. Students get practical experience with real stakes. And the model naturally expands networks through corporate partnerships and project collaborations, creating a virtuous cycle of growth and impact.

The Bridge-Builder's Test

Ken faces a crucial test in the coming months: can this model produce the kind of progress that builds momentum for transformation? "It's got to be a win a month kind of thing," he explained. "Never more than 30 days for your next win."

But the real measure won't just be Barton's success. It will be whether other institutions adopt similar approaches, whether corporations see sufficient value to sustain sponsorship, and whether graduates demonstrate the kind of practical wisdom that commands premium in an AI-dominated economy.

For those of us working in entrepreneurial ecosystems, Ken's journey offers hope that we can create more integrated models of professional development—ones that honor both rigorous thinking and practical wisdom. In a world where AI handles routine tasks, we need more leaders who understand that the future belongs to those who can help others become more deeply, authentically human.

Ken Russell is building that bridge, one meaningful project at a time.

Ken Russell's book "Transact, Transform, Transcend" is available on Amazon. Advisory5 connects health tech founders with experienced advisors for strategic guidance and mentorship. Learn more about the Dean's Innovation Cohort model at igor@gorlatov.com.

What would it take for Charlotte to become the most connected, founder-friendly health innovation hub in the country?

The session was hosted by Craig Scharton (Connect Labs @ The Pearl) and Hannah Maeda (The Nichols Company), and brought together founders, funders, researchers, educators, and a mix of other ecosystem builders.

It wasn’t a structured session. More like a sensing moment — a way to take stock of who’s here, what people care about, and where things might go next.

What Stood Out in the Room

• People were hungry to connect.

  There was a real sense of openness. A lot of folks said they hadn’t realized how many others were working on similar things — or how siloed they’d felt until now.

• “Kind” landed better than expected.

  The working name — KIND Health CLT — sparked some good back-and-forth. It’s an acronym (Knowledge, Innovation, Network, Discovery), but more importantly, people liked that it felt human. Collaborative. Friendly. Less gatekept.

• David Ehrlichman gave us some useful framing.

  His “Impact Networks” model helped name what’s already starting to happen — a move from top-down structures toward more distributed, trust-based connection. Some of it leaned conceptual, but the idea of “scaling out through relationships” definitely resonated.

A Few Takeaways

“No one’s really competing on being the friendliest, most trusted ecosystem — and that’s a lane Charlotte could own.”

— Craig Scharton, Connect Labs @ The Pearl

• Charlotte might win on feel, not funding.

  We’re not Atlanta or Boston when it comes to VC or NIH grants — but that doesn’t mean we can’t be the most welcoming place to build in health innovation. People kept coming back to trust, inclusion, and emotional intelligence as the region’s edge.

• The Pearl is a gravitational force — but still fragmented.

  Even though this session happened near The Pearl, most major players from Atrium, Novant, or the med school weren’t in the room. That’s not a problem, but it does raise a live question: Are we building something that plugs into those institutions — or something more grassroots alongside them?

• The network map is a solid start — if we do something with it.

  We saw early connections forming across neuro, AI, and startup support. But the value will come if people start using that map to launch pilots, find mentors, or collaborate in real ways — not just visualize the ecosystem but activate it.

Tensions That Came Up (Or Are Still Hanging in the Air)

“We’ve got a lot of cooks in the kitchen. Everyone wants their priority at the top of the list. It’s a lot to navigate.”

— Kate Burgess, Project Manager, The Pearl

• Access vs. Alignment

  A lot of folks came hoping to get closer to big players — Atrium, Novant, the med school, funders. But those leaders mostly weren’t in the room. So the question is: if this grows, how do we keep it open and connected to the people actually shaping decisions and investments?

• Inclusion vs. Focus

  There’s energy from all over — life sciences, AI, digital health, workforce development. But the center of gravity isn’t clear yet. Do we try to include everyone? Or sharpen the focus so it’s easier to take action?

• Grassroots or Bridge?

  Right now, this feels like a grassroots network of peers. But if it’s going to last, it may need to become a bridge — to institutions, capital, infrastructure. That choice will shape how this thing’s built, and who it serves.

What’s Next

At the end of the session, people were invited to help shape what comes next. No formal roadmap. No fixed structure. Just a live question:

What kind of future are we trying to build — and how do we build it together?

In a world where ecosystems often get branded before they’re real, this one’s taking a different route. Slower. More relational. Less scripted.

It’s not perfect. But it’s honest. And maybe that’s the right way to start.

“My work is unique in that I’m interested in how we look at short-term needs and also do a little bit of cathedral building.”

— Dr. Richard Cox, Senior Strategist for Community and Social Impact, Atrium Health / The Pearl

Organizations typically measure success in purely numeric terms—KPIs, performance metrics, and productivity scores. Employees often become passive data points on strategic maps, instruments used rather than empowered agents. Denise Cooper, an executive coach and seasoned HR leader, offers a compelling alternative: true organizational high performance isn't achieved by focusing solely on metrics, but by empowering individuals to become active creators of their organizational realities.

This empowerment isn't merely philosophical; it’s practical. It means fostering genuine agency within teams, allowing employees to actively shape solutions and innovations. Denise has consistently demonstrated that when organizations embrace human empowerment—such as shifting HR from a cost management function to a value-creating partner or encouraging workers to proactively address safety and operational concerns—performance thrives sustainably.

Empowered mentorship, distributed leadership, and value-driven HR illustrate the tangible impacts of inviting the full human experience into the workplace. Leaders who create environments where curiosity, autonomy, and individual responsibility are encouraged unlock the deepest levels of commitment and innovation.

Yet, recognizing humanity at work remains disruptive in many organizational cultures. It challenges traditional beliefs about hierarchy, authority, and control. Perhaps, the unease we feel when discussing humanity in business reflects our unspoken recognition that the workplace needs to evolve beyond mechanical views of productivity.

It's time to ask ourselves openly: Why is it controversial to bring the fullness of our humanity to work? What would it look like to empower people not merely as instruments of production, but as true co-creators in organizational success? The answers could redefine high performance in profoundly human terms.

Empowerment in Action

From Cost Control to Value Creation

Organizations traditionally position Human Resources as gatekeepers focused primarily on controlling costs—managing hiring budgets, benefits expenses, and turnover rates. Denise Cooper challenges this limiting view by repositioning HR as an active partner in organizational growth. In one notable case involving a call center, Denise shifted the conversation from simply managing hiring costs to actively investing in enhanced training and improved hiring practices. By reducing onboarding time from six weeks to four weeks, Denise and her team directly contributed to a $2.3 million increase in productivity and revenue. Empowering HR to view themselves as drivers of tangible business outcomes significantly transformed organizational performance.

Empowering Employees for Operational Excellence

Safety and operational efficiency often suffer under command-and-control cultures, where workers passively comply rather than proactively engage. Denise describes an innovative approach in a chemical manufacturing context where traditional punitive measures failed to reduce accidents. Instead, employees were actively encouraged to report "near misses," incidents narrowly avoided through chance. By reframing safety reporting as proactive care rather than blame avoidance, workers felt empowered to protect themselves and their colleagues. This shift towards empowerment drastically reduced safety incidents, proving that genuine employee engagement enhances both morale and operational effectiveness.

Structured Mentorship: From Answers to Curiosity

Traditional mentorship models often center around mentors as repositories of answers, with mentees passively absorbing knowledge. Denise advocates for a radical shift—structured mentorship driven by curiosity, co-creation, and mutual discovery. Effective mentors, in her view, don't simply provide solutions; they facilitate powerful inquiry and independent problem-solving. This approach transforms mentorship into a dynamic partnership, empowering mentees to confidently explore and innovate rather than merely following prescribed advice. Structured mentorship thus becomes an engine for sustainable organizational learning and innovation, deeply rooted in individual empowerment.

Distributed Leadership & Collective Agency

Leadership as Environment Creation

True leadership goes beyond personal authority or positional power; it involves creating environments where every individual feels empowered to step into leadership roles. Denise Cooper emphasizes that genuine leadership sets conditions for distributed agency—encouraging team members to actively contribute, innovate, and take ownership of organizational outcomes. Effective leaders don't simply direct; they cultivate spaces where responsibility and creativity naturally thrive.

This shift from hierarchical control to distributed leadership profoundly impacts organizational performance. When team members see themselves as integral participants rather than passive executors, their motivation and productivity increase exponentially. Denise’s perspective challenges traditional top-down paradigms, underscoring the power of environments that inspire collective ownership.

Cultivating Empowered Teams

How can leaders practically build such empowering environments? Denise recommends several key strategies:

• Encourage Active Participation: Invite team members to contribute meaningfully to decision-making processes, explicitly valuing their input. Active participation cultivates a sense of ownership and responsibility among team members.

• Create Safe-to-Fail Spaces: Foster cultures where experimentation is encouraged, and failure is viewed as a vital learning opportunity. Safe-to-fail spaces empower individuals to innovate without fear, increasing agility and resilience.

• Promote Transparent Communication: Openly share information and decision rationales. Transparency builds trust and empowers team members with the context they need to make informed contributions.

• Model Curiosity and Openness: Leaders should demonstrate continuous learning and curiosity, openly acknowledging when they don't have all the answers. This behavior creates permission for others to embrace learning and exploration as essential components of their roles.

• Recognize Collective Success: Celebrate team achievements and acknowledge the contributions of individuals at all levels. Recognizing collective efforts reinforces the idea that success is a shared, collaborative endeavor rather than an individual pursuit.

By embedding these approaches into everyday organizational practices, leaders can foster genuine distributed leadership and collective agency, unlocking deeper levels of innovation, satisfaction, and sustainable high performance.

Practical Steps for Human-Centric Leadership

Implementing a genuinely human-centric approach to high performance requires deliberate and practical action. Leaders and organizations can immediately adopt several key practices:

• Begin with Pilot Projects: Initiate change with small, manageable teams or projects. This allows for focused experimentation, learning, and demonstrable successes that build momentum.

• Shift Measurement Frameworks: Transition from purely quantitative metrics to qualitative assessments emphasizing behavior alignment, learning, and innovation. Regularly evaluate team dynamics, collaboration effectiveness, and individual empowerment as indicators of true organizational health.

• Normalize Vulnerability and Learning: Encourage leaders and team members to openly acknowledge uncertainty and mistakes as part of the growth process. Creating safe environments for vulnerability reduces fear-based behaviors and promotes authentic engagement and risk-taking.

• Foster Active Curiosity: Encourage questioning and exploration at every organizational level. Mentors, managers, and leaders should regularly ask powerful, curiosity-driven questions that inspire reflection, innovation, and deeper problem-solving capabilities among team members.

• Regularly Share Human Stories: Embed personal narratives and genuine stories within organizational communication. Human stories strengthen emotional connections and reinforce the shared purpose, bridging the gap between individual experiences and collective goals.

Embracing Our Full Humanity at Work

Reflecting again on the paradox introduced earlier, the notion of embracing our full humanity at work still remains surprisingly radical.

Yet, recognizing and honoring humanity in organizational cultures often encounters resistance not because it's objectively impossible, but because of perceived short-term risks and pressures. Traditional business environments, driven by fear cultures, overwhelming stress, immediate result pressures, and resource scarcity, often leave little space for humanity and creativity. Managers focus on immediate outcomes to secure bonuses; shareholders demand quick profits, neglecting sustainable purposes or healthier work environments.

However, as Denise Cooper demonstrates, leadership fundamentally shapes these environments. True leadership involves a willingness to accept short-term risks for the promise of lasting rewards. Such risks include experimenting with empowering practices, decentralizing decision-making, and genuinely engaging employees as active contributors. In the long term, these practices foster sustainable environments, deeper team buy-in, shared responsibilities, and innovative problem-solving that can even alleviate pressures and expand organizational capacities.

Crucially, true leadership extends beyond immediate organizational outcomes, enriching team members' lives and professional journeys. It creates spaces where purpose emerges authentically, allowing individuals to grow, develop transferable skills, and confidently navigate career choices—within or beyond the organization. Such empowerment enables individuals to recognize and leave truly toxic cultures, enhancing overall employability and life satisfaction.

Denise’s work shows that embracing humanity at work, even within large organizations, is indeed achievable. It requires courage, intentionality, and a commitment to true learning and authentic leadership.

Ultimately, the question becomes not whether we can afford to embrace humanity at work, but whether we can afford not to. Leaders who choose empowerment and authenticity create teams capable of extraordinary achievements, no matter the context. Are you ready to accept the short-term trade-offs to unlock lasting growth, engagement, and meaningful impact for your team?

Yesterday, browsing Barnes & Noble, I found myself picking up Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason. It’s one of those books people often describe as notoriously dense or even outright impenetrable unless you’ve had rigorous philosophical training. Honestly, I’d absorbed some of those assumptions myself.

But I flipped to some random page anyway—and the weirdest thing happened. Kant wasn’t impossible at all. In fact, his words felt surprisingly alive and clear. It was like he wasn’t just theorizing—he was describing something real, something you could actually sense if you slowed down and paid attention. He said something about time not being some external measurement, but instead, how we experience ourselves moment to moment. And it struck me as obviously true, right there, standing in the aisle. All you had to do was pause and notice it in your own life.

“Time is nothing else than the form of inner sense, that is, of our awareness of the state of our own consciousness.” — Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason

Then, feeling pretty encouraged, I decided to peek at the professor’s introduction. Big mistake. Within seconds, Kant’s fresh insight felt like it got buried alive under pages of academic jargon and needless complexity. It was as if this professor thought explaining Kant meant dissecting him until nothing recognizable remained. Everything vibrant or exciting about the original idea just vanished beneath layers of dull, scholarly detail.

And that’s when it really hit me—this isn’t just Kant, it’s everywhere. Not just in philosophy, either. It feels like our knowledge system has been built to turn genuinely fresh insights into lifeless museum pieces.

This isn’t just about philosophy or academics—it’s something way bigger.

Escaping the Strategic Planning Trap

I saw exactly how this plays out recently at Product Jam with my startup, Traction5.

We were in the middle of a session with Wes Dews, talking through our partnership strategy, and we did exactly what everyone always does—started diving straight into detailed planning, trying to lock everything down step-by-step in a deck. But then Winston Len, one of expert investors, gently pushed back. He basically said, “Hold on—can we pause for a second? There are too many nouns, does not look like a deck to me."

That hit me hard. We were about to do exactly what those professors did to Kant—take something alive and try to dissect it until it was lifeless. And the funny thing is, the minute we stopped trying to squeeze out the “right answer,” the questions started flowing easily.

Richard Rumelt touches on this idea in Good Strategy, Bad Strategy, even if he doesn’t explicitly name it. While he provides clear mechanics and insightful frameworks, the true strategic insight—the genuine kernel—can’t be reduced to formulas or diagrams. It emerges naturally, often in moments of uncertainty and discomfort, when you’re willing to pause, resist immediate answers, and allow clarity to surface organically.

What really struck me—actually kind of shook me—was how close we came to completely missing it. If Winston hadn’t gently interrupted, if we’d stuck with the familiar, comforting path of frameworks and neatly structured action items, we would’ve walked out of that room with a perfectly tidy strategy deck. And it would’ve been lifeless.

Escaping Intellectual Colonization

But it’s not just a business strategy thing, is it? It’s a way bigger issue—about how we approach any kind of knowledge. Do we have the patience to hang out in that awkward, uncertain space long enough for something real to show itself? Or do we run straight back to our safe little frameworks, content to shuffle around preserved ideas instead of grappling with what’s actually alive and messy?

I decided to dig a bit more and came across this book called The Embodied Mind by Varela, Rosch and Thompson. They put into words something I’d felt but couldn't quite express clearly: science often acts like a colonial power whenever it runs into something it can't easily break down or measure. If it’s lived experience, science tries to conquer it by mapping it to neurons. Consciousness? It immediately tries to colonize it with computer metaphors. Even deep insights are quickly reduced to predictable behaviors and frameworks.

But here's the uncomfortable truth—we’re all doing this, all the time. Me included. Remember the Product Jam session? That instant where we almost killed off a genuinely alive idea by immediately overanalyzing it? Total colonization. Or when I first grabbed Kant’s book and instinctively turned to the professor’s dry, overly academic introduction to explain away what I’d just experienced firsthand? Yep, colonization again.

We've somehow been trained—maybe even conditioned—to trust our neat maps and frameworks more than the messy, living territory they're supposed to represent. It’s like we prefer a butterfly pinned neatly in a display case over one that's actually flying around, unpredictable and alive.

Don’t Explain It—Live It

No academic paper can truly capture the living truth that’s unfolding right in front of us—if only we're brave enough to look directly at it.

Every day, every moment, we face this choice. Do we study life from a safe distance, or do we actually live it? Do we colonize experiences by endlessly labeling them, or do we engage with them directly, allowing them to change us?

And yes, it’s risky. It's uncomfortable. Letting go of our analytical safety nets feels unsettling. But what's the alternative?

This isn't just about philosophy or academics. It's about a basic choice we all face: Do we want to engage with ideas as living truths that can transform our understanding? Or are we content to collect and catalog dead specimens?

Most of what we call “learning” is simply knowledge absorption—structured lessons, detailed frameworks, controlled instruction. But real learning doesn’t work that way. It happens through experience, through failure, through pattern recognition in real-time.

A child can read about how a bicycle works, memorize the mechanics of balance, and even study professional cycling techniques. But until they actually get on a bike, wobble, overcorrect, and feel their body adjust, they haven’t learned how to ride. The same is true for almost every skill in life.

The Illusion of Learning: When Knowledge Fails in Reality

We’ve been trained to believe that knowledge is learning. But in the real world, memorized information often collapses under pressure. Consider these examples:

• Studying a foreign language vs. trying to speak it with native speakers. You can memorize vocabulary and grammar, but when thrown into a fast-moving conversation, real learning begins—adapting in real-time, reading social cues, improvising when words fail.

• Reading a book on parenting vs. dealing with a crying baby at 4 AM. Every guide says one thing, but real parenting is about instinct, patience, and recognizing patterns in your child’s behavior.

• Training for leadership in a business course vs. leading in a real crisis. Leadership frameworks are clean and logical, but when a project is collapsing, and your team is panicked, what matters is adaptability, emotional intelligence, and staying calm under uncertainty.

• Learning about negotiation in a role-play exercise vs. facing a tough, unpredictable client. In theory, people act rationally. In real life, people bring emotions, unspoken agendas, and power plays that no textbook scenario can fully capture.

These failures of traditional learning aren’t just occasional—they are systemic.

Why Traditional Learning Fails in Dynamic Environments

Real life is messy, fast-moving, and unpredictable. Traditional learning assumes:

1. Problems have predefined solutions (but real challenges require improvisation).

2. Situations unfold in controlled environments (but real conditions change in unpredictable ways).

3. Mastery comes from memorization and repetition (but in reality, it comes from engaging with complexity and making sense of it as it happens).

Pattern recognition—the ability to notice shifts, sense what is emerging, and adjust in real time—is what separates true learning from mere knowledge acquisition.

Alex’s Story: When Negotiation Theory Collides with Reality

Alex had spent two years in an elite MBA program, mastering negotiation theory. He could explain BATNA (Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement), define ZOPA (Zone of Possible Agreement), and analyze power dynamics using structured frameworks. His classroom simulations had gone well—structured exchanges where both sides were incentivized to reach an optimal outcome, expanding value rather than just dividing it.

Then, he walked into his first real-world negotiation: a supplier deal for a mid-sized tech company where he was interning. The stakes were high—the company needed to lower costs without compromising delivery timelines. Confident in his training, Alex approached the meeting with a structured plan.

At first, everything seemed to go smoothly. Alex laid out his BATNA, positioning the alternative supplier as leverage to secure a better deal. The supplier nodded, took a slow sip of coffee, and said, ‘That’s great, Alex. But let’s talk about trust. Your company has been with us for five years. We’ve been flexible when you needed it. We’ve absorbed rising material costs without passing them on. Now you’re coming in, not just pushing for a lower price, but treating this as a transaction instead of a relationship. Is that really how you see value?”

Alex hesitated. This wasn’t in the script. He scrambled to counter, reiterating that the company needed to optimize costs. The supplier smiled and let the silence stretch. Ten seconds. Fifteen. Twenty. The weight of it pressed down on Alex, who suddenly realized—he had no idea what to do next.

When he tried to regain control, the supplier subtly shifted the conversation. "You know," he said, "I had a great conversation with your CFO last week. She told me she values stability over short-term cost savings. If that’s still the case, we might be able to adjust things on our end—but not if we’re being pressured."

Alex felt his leverage evaporate. He had come in expecting a rational exchange of offers and counteroffers. Instead, he was facing a complex interplay of relationship history, emotional leverage, and unstated power dynamics that no classroom role-play had prepared him for.

By the end of the meeting, Alex realized he had lost control of the negotiation. His frameworks, which worked so well in controlled exercises, had failed against the unpredictable, multi-layered realities of actual business dynamics. He hadn’t been reading the room, adapting in real time, or recognizing emergent power shifts—he had been trying to force theory onto a living, shifting negotiation landscape.

How to Recognize Real Learning

You've heard it before. "Fail fast." "Get real-world experience." "Learning happens when you step outside your comfort zone."

All true. But let’s be honest—this is the kind of advice that sounds good but often leaves you right where you started. Why? Because even when people think they’re learning by "failing fast," they’re often just running controlled, low-risk experiments in environments that still feel safe. That’s not learning. That’s just a slightly riskier form of rehearsal.

You know you’re learning when reality punches you in the face, and suddenly, the mental models you trusted crumble right in front of you. When your confident assumptions meet an unexpected force, and you’re left standing there, stunned, trying to make sense of what just happened.

Like Alex, sitting in that negotiation room, realizing that the silence from the supplier was not a pause for consideration—it was a weapon.

Or the first time a new leader delivers what they think is an inspiring speech, only to watch their team react with blank stares and polite nods, signaling, This person doesn’t get it.

Or the moment an investor, who nodded enthusiastically through your pitch, shakes your hand and says, "I love your energy. Keep me updated," and you realize—they’re never going to fund this.

A Deeper Look: When Negotiation Reality Hits

Let's return to Alex in that negotiation room. What makes this moment real learning rather than rehearsal? It's not just about discovering silence as a tactic—it's about experiencing how reality itself shifts when you move from simulation to actual stakes.

Alex had practiced negotiation. Role-played scenarios. Studied win-win strategies. But in that room, facing that silence, something deeper collapsed: the very idea that negotiation was about "winning" at all.

What emerged wasn't just a better tactic, but a fundamentally different understanding. The real game wasn't about outcome optimization—it was about creating the right space for possibilities to emerge. The silence wasn't just a weapon; it was revealing the limitations of Alex's entire approach to human interaction.

This is what makes it real learning: not just the shock of a tactic unexpected, but the dissolution of an entire framework for understanding reality. The path forward wasn't about better counter-moves, but about learning to create containers where genuine exploration could happen—even with supposed "opponents."

In the end, Alex's greatest learning wasn't a new negotiation strategy. It was discovering that the very framing of negotiation as a space to "win" was itself a limitation. Real mastery meant learning to hold space for something neither side could have imagined alone to emerge.

How to Train for Reality, Not Rehearsal

1. Create spaces where truth can emerge. Instead of just seeking discomfort, look for environments where reality can actually show itself—where your assumptions have no choice but to meet genuine resistance. If you're choreographing the interaction, you're still in rehearsal mode.

2. Allow natural consequences to teach. Real learning isn't about manufacturing risk—it's about engaging with situations where reality itself responds to your actions. The sting of failure isn't the point; it's about entering spaces where genuine feedback is unavoidable and immediate.

3. Watch for pattern collapses. The moment your understanding breaks isn't just about being wrong—it's a signal that you've encountered a deeper truth. Pay attention not just to what breaks, but to what new patterns emerge from the collapse.

4. Trust emergence over control. Instead of trying to "fail fast," focus on creating conditions where reality can actually teach you something new. The best learning environments aren't designed—they're discovered through genuine engagement. Just like that child on the bicycle, mastery comes not from controlling the learning but from creating conditions where natural balance can emerge.

5. Look for resonance, not just results. True learning shows up as a shift in how you see reality itself, not just in what you know how to do. When your understanding resonates with what's actually true, you'll feel it—and it won't always be comfortable.

The goal isn't to collapse false confidence for its own sake. It's to create space for real understanding to emerge—even if that means letting go of everything you thought you knew about how learning works.

Interested in more learning? Explore When Life Becomes Your Teacher.

I ordered an Impossible Breakfast Sandwich and a latte, settling by the window with my MacBook open, diving into prep for my Mentorship in Action workshop.

Kaitlyn messaged—five minutes late.

“No rush,” I replied.

We reconnected last month, on December 16th, during a conversation about mentorship—not the abstract kind, but real human stories. That’s when her mentor Kathy and the horses came up, leading us to this moment.

When she arrived, we hugged.

I offered to get her a coffee, but she reminded me that I had paid last time and insisted on buying me one instead.

Kaitlyn had always radiated a sunny, generous energy, someone naturally inclined to make others feel comfortable. Today, she seemed friendly and warm, with a calm attentiveness that felt grounded.

She began by mentioning her boyfriend—a gentle boundary, a bit of context, quietly framing the conversation.

Then, she shifted into the story, the one I’d been waiting to hear.

The story began simply, with an older woman and a young girl.

Kathy, in her mid-to-late forties, had moved to Idaho with her horses.

Kaitlyn, barely a teenager, was obsessed.

It started as lessons—engaging and practical, but Kathy had a way of teaching that didn’t always feel like teaching.

She gave Kaitlyn what we came to call ‘commandments’ during our conversation—rules that weren’t about what to do, but about how to live:

Kaitlyn remembered hearing those words in 2004, sitting on a hay bale in the barn, listening as Kathy spoke.

“At the time, I thought I understood them—they felt true, even if I couldn’t fully explain why.”

But the years deepened those words.

“Don’t compare” became a reminder to trust her own path instead of measuring herself against others.

“Sometimes you’re not supposed to understand why” softened her need for certainty, teaching her to sit with ambiguity.

And “Just believe”—that one stayed with her the longest. It wasn’t about blind faith, but about trust.

“In the horse, in the process, in myself,” Kaitlyn said.

Lessons were not cheap, but she found another way.

Another way to stay close to the horses.

Fixing fences, hauling hay, loading horses into trailers for long drives.

There was no formal arrangement, no clock ticking off hours.

“It was just whenever I was there,” Kaitlyn said.

The bond grew quietly, through shared work and unspoken trust.

When Kathy decided to take Kaitlyn across the country, there was no big discussion, no hesitation.

It simply happened, the kind of trust that didn’t need words.

One of those trips took them to California, the trailer rattling behind Kathy’s truck, the air thick with the smell of hay and leather.

Kaitlyn remembered the long stretches of road, the way Kathy could drive in silence for hours.

It was during that trip that Kathy took her to the Bodhi Tree bookstore.

“It was this spiritual place,” Kaitlyn explained, her tone hesitant but deliberate.

Bookshelves packed with titles about enlightenment, ego, and the art of letting go.

“At the time, I hated it,” she admitted, her mouth curving into a half-smile.

“I was so mad she’d brought me there,” Kaitlyn said, shaking her head. “It didn’t make sense. It felt… forced to come, I guess.”

She shook her head, the teenage frustration still palpable after all these years.

Then she shifted into the heart of it: the riding.

“At first, you’re consumed by your own movement,” she said. “Are my heels down? Is my posture correct? Am I giving the right signal with the reins?”

The words came easily, almost like a rhythm she’d repeated to herself countless times.

“But as you get better, you stop thinking about yourself so much. You start feeling the horse.”

Her hands moved instinctively, as if tracing invisible reins.

She paused, her gaze steady, but somewhere far off.

“At an advanced level, you and the horse are one.

You’re not separate anymore. The focus shifts completely to the horse, and you just… move together.”

The café’s sounds softened, her words cutting through the stillness.

It wasn’t just a statement—it felt like a quiet truth, carried long after she left the barn.

I asked her what it took to reach that level.

“Patience,” she said, without hesitation. “And a willingness to let go.

You have to get out of your own way. If you’re riding with ego, the horse knows.

They feel it immediately, and they’ll push back. You have to let that part of yourself go.”

She paused, her gaze lowering to the coffee cup in her hands, swirling the last bit in the bottom.

For a moment, she seemed lost in the memory.

“That’s what Kathy taught me,” she said finally, her tone threaded with deep wisdom.

“It wasn’t something she ever said outright. It was in the way she worked.

The way she treated the horses—and the way she treated me.”

"Здравствуйте," she began. "I wanted to write here because I don't know how quickly I can reach you. An investor and potential interim CEO is coming to Charlotte. He's been in the field of medicine and startups for a long time, and I'd really like for you to meet him. Do you have time on Tuesday? Maybe you have thoughts on who else he could meet while he's in Charlotte next week."

The timing wasn't ideal. Tuesday through Thursday, I'd be in Las Vegas. But I suggested Monday. We arranged to meet at 11:00 a.m. at Hygge, a co-working space near Uptown Charlotte.

Cole arrived with quiet confidence. A man accustomed to complexity, he spoke with the precision of someone who has untangled problems others avoided. He was there to stabilize, to build, to prepare for the next chapter of a company's journey.

We connected. An hour passed quickly. By the end, he invited me to lunch. The conversation spilled over, and I invited him to join me for a podcast conversation later that week.

A Conversation That Swings Both Ways

The morning of January 10th, before the winter storm rolled in, Cole and I sat down to record. The theme that emerged was clear: the delicate tension of leadership.

Cole framed leadership as a pendulum — an ongoing swing between systems and humanity. He called it "hammer and heart." Systems, metrics, and structure provide the foundation, the hammer that builds and refines. Humanity, relationships, and patience provide the heart that guides those structures with compassion.

"Some days, you need the hammer. Others, the heart," he explained.

This dynamic is vividly reflected in his work with Margik, a company pushing the boundaries of organic LED technology. Margaret, the founder, thrives in the lab, where her passion for research and development drives innovation. Cole's role is to create the operational foundation that allows her to focus. "If someone loves the lab," he said, "let them stay in the lab. Give them the freedom to excel."

At the same time, he recognizes the importance of aligning metrics with purpose, a lesson also highlighted in From Fire to Fuel: How Purpose Shapes Metrics, KPIs, and Decision-Making. Metrics, Cole noted, are like tools—they should serve the fire, not extinguish it. His work involves ensuring that KPIs reflect the company's broader mission rather than overshadowing it.

Hammer, Heart, and the Challenges of Leadership

Cole’s leadership philosophy isn’t abstract. It’s shaped by years of hands-on experience, including his time at JR Electronics, a family-owned company specializing in nurse call communication systems. The company wasn’t struggling, but its deeply rooted culture presented a unique challenge: how to introduce change in a way that honored its legacy. “The family had been running the company a certain way for so long that change was very difficult,” Cole explained. Instead of pushing for immediate results, he leaned into patience, observing the rhythms of the organization and building trust through small, steady improvements. Over three years, he worked closely with the team, growing the company while learning to see change as a conversation rather than a command.

This experience didn’t just teach Cole how to navigate tradition—it reinforced a broader truth about leadership. “Sometimes you have to slow down, to listen, to notice,” he reflected. “That’s where the humanity of leadership shows up—in the pause.” It was, as he described, a “wonderful time,” and a reminder that growth isn’t just about systems or speed, but about creating space for people to believe in the journey.

At Margik, the pendulum is swinging again, but in a different direction. Margaret's vision for organic LEDs spans multiple industries, from medicine to defense. It's an ambitious mission that risks stretching the company too thin. Cole's role is to guide this energy, creating sub-companies under the Margik umbrella to focus on specific markets. "It's like guiding a river," he explained. "You don't dam it — you channel it."

This delicate balance between structure and purpose echoes deeper truths about organizational life. Like the fire that pulls teams together in Purpose Before Team, the pendulum's swing between systems and humanity isn't just about management technique—it's about creating spaces where purpose can flourish. When Cole talks about "channeling the river" of innovation at Margik, he's really describing how to keep purpose alive while building the structures it needs to grow.

Finding Humanity in Leadership

Cole's health challenges have shaped his leadership profoundly. After enduring multiple surgeries and months of rehabilitation, he found himself physically confined but mentally sharper than ever - an experience that fundamentally shifted his understanding of leadership. "Physically, I was falling apart. Mentally, I was at my peak and wanted to help companies," he reflected. Some clients moved on, seeing only the wheelchair, missing the mind behind it. This experience forced him to confront how easily we reduce people to their immediate capabilities, missing their fuller humanity.

The irony wasn't lost on him - a leader known for systems and efficiency, now having to advocate for his own humanity. "I was mentally so capable of helping these businesses, but physically just not able to," he shared. This vulnerability deepened not just his empathy, but his understanding of how systems and humanity must intertwine. Leadership, he learned, isn't just about what can be measured, but what can be felt.

In one manufacturing role, Cole prioritized listening to employees. He spent months understanding their challenges, incorporating their insights into operational decisions. "When people feel heard, they stop resisting," he said. "They become part of the solution."

This philosophy ties back to purpose-driven leadership. Whether creating systems or mentoring founders, Cole emphasizes the humanity behind every decision. "You can't lead purely by numbers," he reflected. "People aren't machines. If you forget that, you might hit your KPIs, but you'll lose your team."

The Pendulum's Lesson

Leadership, as Cole describes it, is more than a balancing act—it's a dynamic dance between structure and spirit, between the measurable and the meaningful. The pendulum never stops because growth never stops. Each swing between systems and humanity creates new possibilities, new understanding, new ways of keeping purpose alive.

For Margaret and Margik, the pendulum is in motion. Cole is building the foundation, guiding the company toward stability, while giving Margaret the freedom to focus on her passion. Their partnership exemplifies what leadership can look like when systems serve people, and people give life to systems.

But perhaps the deepest lesson lies in Cole's own journey. His path from systems expert to purpose-driven leader, shaped by both professional expertise and personal crisis, reminds us that leadership's greatest power comes not from perfecting either systems or humanity, but from the wisdom to know when each is needed.

Leadership isn't about finding perfect balance. It's about staying in motion, guided by purpose, swinging between hammer and heart as the moment demands. In this constant movement, we find not just effectiveness, but meaning—not just success, but transformation.

Our full conversation, rich with stories of resilience and insight, dives deeper into this dynamic. But one truth remains clear: in the space between systems and humanity, purpose finds its home.

Traditional wisdom says: don’t manufacture. Wait for the wave. Save your energy and ride the momentum when it comes.

It sounds smart. I used to believe it.

But then I read The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. And over coffee with my friend Aabristi — a yoga instructor and senior software engineer —my perspective began to shift.

“Pure yoga teaches us to flow,” she said. “And life teaches something more: sometimes, you need to create waves.”

Her perspective stayed with me over the weekend. Someone deeply rooted in the discipline of yoga, yet pragmatic enough to understand the nuance of breaking the rule.
It made me ask myself: why was I so bound by this rule of wisdom?

Her words made me reflect on my own journey, especially the tension between waiting and acting. It pushed me to integrate my reading, her insight, and my own experiences to explore when leadership calls for patience and when it demands action.

This article is, in many ways, my thinking in progress.

When I moved to Charlotte, I didn’t wait for the wave. I joined a coworking space. I built connections intentionally.

One moment stands out. I organized an event series called Successful Negotiators. One of those events introduced me to Brian Formato.

What started as a single connection became a collaboration that has lasted eight years. That event wasn’t organic—it was manufactured. But it created a wave that carried meaningful momentum. Sometimes, intentional action is necessary.

Creative Tension: A Bridge to Manufacturing with Purpose

One of my favorite thinkers, Peter Senge, talks about creative tension. He describes the gap between vision and reality as a source of energy.

At first, this seemed at odds with traditional wisdom: don’t manufacture. But the deeper I reflected, the more I realized Senge’s idea doesn’t simply accept manufacturing. It embraces it.

Vision, at its core, is about manufacturing reality. It begins with imagination—a picture of the world that reflects your purpose.

Purpose is the fire you see in the world. Vision is your approach to that fire.

When purpose and vision align, your actions become grounded. For an individual, alignment means moving beyond ego—acting not out of fear or insecurity but from a sense of deeper meaning.

For a team, alignment means moving beyond personal agendas, optics, or hierarchy. It centers everyone on common goals.

Manufacturing with Intention

Manufacturing from ego—out of fear, impatience, or the need for recognition—doesn’t work.

It wastes resources. It’s unsustainable.

And even if it succeeds, it rarely feels fulfilling.

But intentional, strategic action aligned with vision and purpose is different.

It’s authentic.

It’s meaningful.

And sometimes, it’s essential.

There are times when you shouldn’t act.

As Sun Tzu reminds us: the general waits because he sees no path to victory.

But once the vision is clear, action becomes inevitable.

Creating waves isn’t just a tactic—it’s an integral part of leadership.

The Balance of Leadership

Leadership is not about choosing between waiting and acting. It’s about balancing the tension between organic growth and intentional action.

When vision, purpose, and action align, manufacturing momentum isn’t a compromise. It becomes a natural extension of leadership—a way to bridge the gap between reality and possibility.

Leadership isn’t just about going with the flow. It’s about knowing when to wait, when to act, and how to align every action with a deeper purpose. The challenge is not just in acting, but in ensuring that each step moves you closer to transforming vision into reality.

So how do we move from mechanical measurement to meaningful alignment? How do we ensure metrics don’t just measure outputs, but serve the gravitational pull of purpose?

Aligned vs. Misaligned Metrics: Seeing the Difference

Metrics aren’t neutral—they’re directional. They tell teams what to prioritize, what to celebrate, and what to worry about.

When metrics drift away from purpose, the organization starts optimizing for numbers instead of meaning. It happens subtly, almost invisibly, until one day you realize: the fire isn’t warming the room anymore—it’s just keeping the lights on.

Reflection: Measuring What Matters in Healthcare

I’ve often thought about how different healthcare systems approach metrics. On one hand, there are systems obsessed with speed—shorter consultations, faster throughput, lower costs per patient. On the other hand, some systems prioritize outcomes: patient recovery rates, emotional well-being, and long-term health impacts.

Both sets of metrics matter. But when speed becomes the defining measure of success, it can obscure the deeper purpose—to heal, to care, to make people whole.

Reflection: Metrics in Technology

The same challenge exists in tech companies. A purpose like 'Making technology accessible to everyone' sounds clear and inspiring. But when KPIs emphasize average revenue per user or subscription growth in premium tiers, purpose can slip into the background.

Purpose doesn’t disappear in these moments—it’s just quietly overshadowed by what’s easiest to measure.

Why Do Metrics Drift Away From Purpose?

Misalignment isn’t a dramatic betrayal—it’s a slow drift. It happens because:

• Financial metrics are easier to measure: They’re clear, visible, and quick to report.

• Short-term pressures dominate: Quarterly targets often override long-term goals.

• Legacy metrics persist: Old KPIs linger even when they no longer serve the strategy.

• Purpose feels intangible: Numbers are hard, purpose feels soft.

But when metrics are disconnected from purpose, they start pulling teams in different directions—efficient, yes, but rarely aligned.

You Can’t Measure Purpose Directly—But You Can See Its Effects

Purpose leaves footprints. You can see them in the way customers describe your product when you’re not in the room. In the way teams make decisions under pressure. In the stories people tell about their work.

If purpose were fully alive in your organization, what would you notice? What would change in:
- How your customers feel?
- The energy in your meetings?
- The decisions your teams make when trade-offs emerge?

Start there. Metrics should follow those answers—not replace them.

Practical Steps: Aligning Metrics with Purpose

Purpose-driven KPIs aren’t theoretical—they’re actionable. Here’s how leaders can start aligning their metrics with purpose:

1. Start with Purpose Questions:

• Ask: If our purpose were fully alive, what would we notice? What would success look like beyond revenue and efficiency?

2. Map Financial Metrics Back to Purpose:

• Financial health is essential, but it should serve purpose, not replace it. Tie financial outcomes to purpose-driven goals.

3. Watch for Trade-Offs:

• When financial KPIs and purpose metrics pull in opposite directions, leaders must notice—and address—that tension.

The Leader’s Role: Holding the Tension

Leading isn’t about choosing between financial performance and purpose—it’s about holding the tension between them.

In moments where trade-offs arise, great leaders don’t default to what’s easiest to measure. They ask deeper questions:
- What are we optimizing for?
- How does this decision align with our purpose?

And then they listen—to their teams, to their data, and to the subtle pull of the fire beneath it all.

A Personal Realization

When I started exploring the relationship between purpose and metrics, I was struck by how often misalignment isn’t intentional. It happens quietly—through small choices, inherited KPIs, and an unconscious focus on what’s easiest to measure.

But clarity comes from asking better questions. From slowing down long enough to notice where the gravitational pull of purpose is strongest—and where the numbers might be obscuring it.

It’s not about rejecting KPIs. It’s about asking if they’re pointing toward the fire—or away from it.

The relationship between purpose and metrics doesn’t exist in isolation—it evolves alongside an organization’s values and leadership style. In my article, Using Spiral Dynamics to Navigate Leadership and Organizational Growth, I explore how different value systems influence organizational priorities, decision-making, and alignment with purpose. Together, these perspectives provide a roadmap for navigating the tension between short-term metrics and long-term purpose.

Metrics aren’t the fire. They’re the wood, the air, the tools we use to tend it.

Are your metrics serving the fire? Or are they just keeping the lights on?

While pure mentorship—those rare, serendipitous connections—blooms most vividly in the Wild, it’s in the Meadow and the Garden where mentorship most often takes root, thrives, and creates lasting impact.

We often imagine mentorship as a singular, transformative encounter—a rare flower discovered in an untamed space. But in reality, mentorship is rarely static or confined to one place. It moves fluidly across these spaces, evolving with time, intention, and the care it receives.

This article is an invitation to explore this ecosystem together—to map its landscapes, understand its nuances, and notice how mentorship, much like nature, thrives best when there is space for it to grow.

The Wild: Where Pure Mentorship Blooms

Pure mentorship is like a rare wildflower—it grows in unexpected places, without planning, cultivation, or structure. It happens when two people, often strangers, recognize something meaningful in each other and choose to invest in a relationship without external incentives or expectations.

One such connection for me was with Keva Walton. We first met while I was exploring Charlotte’s entrepreneurial ecosystem, and our conversations were spontaneous yet impactful. Over time, a natural alignment emerged, leading to our current collaboration on an upcoming mentorship workshop in January of 2025, where Keva will join as a special guest.

Reflection point:
We often talk about mentorship in the Wild as if it’s the standard path: send a cold email, get a ‘yes,’ and magic happens. But mentorship in the Wild is not the norm—it’s the exception. Pursuing mentorship here is like hoping to stumble upon a rare bloom in an open field. It can happen, and when it does, it’s extraordinary—but it’s not guaranteed. That’s why the Meadow and the Garden matter so much. They are spaces where mentorship is far more likely to take root, grow, and thrive.

The Meadow: Where Mentorship Grows Organically

In the Meadow, mentorship doesn’t arrive with a formal introduction or an assigned pairing. Instead, it emerges naturally through repeated interactions, shared spaces, and casual conversations. These environments—like coworking spaces, collaborative projects, or professional communities—offer fertile ground for connections to grow organically.

But mentorship in the Meadow is rarely the focal point of these relationships—it’s more like a dot on a curve, a moment of connection or shared insight within a larger, evolving dynamic. These relationships are unstable by nature, often shifting and adapting based on shared goals, mutual respect, and recurring opportunities to collaborate. Mentorship might surface briefly, but it rarely stands alone—it blends into and overlaps with other roles: colleague, collaborator, client, or friend.

What makes the Meadow unique is that mentorship here isn’t static or easily defined—it’s an aspect, a shade, a layer within broader human connection. Its strength lies in its fluidity, its ability to adapt to what the relationship needs in each moment.

When I joined a coworking space, this dynamic became clear. Relationships grew naturally, shaped by shared spaces, recurring conversations, and mutual curiosity. With Lisa Speer, a branding strategist, our connection began with casual exchanges about shared challenges. Over time, those conversations led to collaboration on branding projects. Our relationship evolved into a blend of professional partnership, trust, and moments where mentorship naturally surfaced as part of our ongoing dialogue.

Similarly, Kevin Giriunas, the coworking space owner, became a meaningful connection through repeated interactions and shared ideas. Our relationship wasn’t defined by a single purpose—it flowed between conversations about community building, collaborative projects, and mutual support. Kevin, being an incredible connector, created pathways to opportunities both within the coworking space and across the broader Charlotte ecosystem.

Another connection that thrived in the Meadow was with Brian Formato. We first met in the coworking space, where recurring conversations gradually turned into opportunities to collaborate on workshops and client projects. Our connection deepened not because we set out with clear mentorship goals, but because we continued to show up for conversations, ideas, and shared purpose.

Reflection Point:
In the Meadow, mentorship isn’t a destination—it’s part of a journey. It weaves itself into other forms of connection, appearing at times as guidance, at other times as collaboration or friendship. Its strength isn’t in stability but in its adaptability, its ability to be one layer of something larger and often more enduring.

The Garden: Where Mentorship is Cultivated with Intention

In the Garden, mentorship takes root within structured programs. These are carefully tended spaces designed with clear pathways, intentional pairings, and a focus on consistent growth. But a garden is not a machine—it’s a living ecosystem. Its success depends on the care, attention, and skill of the people who steward it.

Over the years, I’ve noticed some recurring “weeds” in mentorship programs—common myths and misconceptions that, if left unchecked, can choke the potential for true impact.

Myth 1: The Right Tools Guarantee Success

• Tools, software, and processes are like watering cans and gardening gloves—helpful, but not the garden itself.

• When I was building Traction5, a mentorship tool designed to support programs like Innovate Charlotte’s Venture Mentoring Program, I initially thought success meant making administration seamless.

• I later realized that the real purpose of these tools isn’t administrative efficiency—it’s creating an environment where mentors, mentees, and program managers feel supported, valued, and empowered. As I explored in ‘When the Raft Becomes the Destination,’ tools—whether in spirituality, work, or mentorship—are meant to guide us, not define the journey. In structured mentorship programs, tools like frameworks or pairing systems are essential, but they’re not the goal. They’re rafts for crossing rivers—not destinations themselves.

Myth 2: Just Plant the Seeds—Connections Will Grow Automatically

• Pairing mentors and mentees is like planting seeds—an essential first step, but not the whole picture.

• Without guidance, consistent care, and clarity, even the best pairings struggle to thrive.

• Trust takes time to grow, focus areas need cultivation, and mentors and mentees often need gentle tending to stay aligned.

Myth 3: Mentors and Mentees Instinctively Know What to Do

Every flower in a garden needs the right conditions to bloom—sunlight, water, and space. Mentorship relationships are no different, and these three elements find their counterparts in the mentorship ecosystem:

• Sunlight: Onboarding provides clarity and direction, like sunlight guiding growth. Without it, mentors and mentees can feel lost, unsure of where to begin or how to approach the relationship.

• Water: Shared expectations act like water, sustaining the relationship and ensuring both sides remain nourished and aligned as it develops. Without consistent clarity on goals, roles, and boundaries, growth can stall.

• Space: A shared framework offers room for growth—structured enough to provide support, yet open enough to allow the relationship to evolve naturally. Without this space, mentorship can feel constrained or directionless.

Myth 4: Mentorship Is About Individual Relationships, Not the Garden as a Whole

• A healthy garden isn’t just about individual flowers—it’s about the ecosystem they exist in.

• Strong mentorship programs create space for mentors to learn from one another, for mentees to feel supported beyond their one-to-one relationships, and for collective growth to take root.

• Running Innovate Charlotte’s Venture Mentoring Program taught me that tending a mentorship garden requires patience, adaptability, and care. While the program was built on the MIT VMS model, its success came from evolving beyond rigid structures and embracing the unique needs of our mentors and mentees.

But here’s the thing about gardens—they are never finished. They require ongoing attention, adaptation, and insight.

This space is where much of my expertise lies, and it’s an area I’m deeply passionate about exploring further. In future articles, I’ll share more about what I’ve learned in the tending, pruning, and nurturing of mentorship gardens—the practices that make them not just productive, but truly thriving ecosystems.

How Mentorship Flows Across Spaces

One of the most interesting things about mentorship is how relationships can transition across these spaces. A formal mentorship in the Garden might evolve into a casual connection in the Meadow. A spontaneous Wild encounter might later become formalized in a structured program.

Navigating the Mentorship Ecosystem

Whether you're a mentor, mentee, or simply curious about mentorship, here's what I've learned:

• In the Garden: Be clear about goals, embrace structure, and invest in the process.

• In the Meadow: Show up consistently, let relationships evolve naturally, and build trust through repeated interactions.

• In the Wild: Stay open to serendipity, trust your instincts, and be bold enough to reach out.

The Ripple Effect of Mentorship

The effects of mentorship extend far beyond two people. A single conversation in the Wild, a recurring connection in the Meadow, or a structured program in the Garden can create ripples that reach teams, communities, and entire cultures.

Mentorship isn’t confined to one space—it thrives in all three. The key is recognizing where you are and approaching each space with curiosity, openness, and intention.

Reflection point:
The impact of mentorship doesn’t stop with two people—it ripples outward. Every meaningful conversation, every shared insight, and every moment of trust creates a ripple. You can extend that ripple by sharing your own mentorship stories, paying it forward, and becoming a bridge for others. Mentorship isn’t just something we receive—it’s something we pass on.

So, wherever you find yourself—tending a garden, walking through a meadow, or stumbling across a rare flower in the wild—pay attention. You might just discover one of the most transformative relationships of your life.

If you’re curious to see these mentorship spaces in action, join us on January 23, 2025, in Charlotte, NC, for ‘Mentorship in Action: Defining Relationships That Drive Growth.’ Alongside special guest Keva Walton, we’ll explore how to build meaningful connections, sustain engagement, and drive personal and professional growth through mentorship. Whether you’re a mentor, mentee, or simply mentorship-curious, this workshop offers practical insights and space to grow. Reserve your spot here.

For most of my life, I viewed religion with deep skepticism. Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusion sat comfortably on my bookshelf, and his sharp critiques of faith-based thinking resonated with my analytical, evidence-driven mind. The rituals, doctrines, and metaphysical claims of religion seemed irrational — a way for people to avoid critical thinking or surrender agency.

But then, something changed.

I met someone — a spiritual practitioner — whose calm presence and clarity felt unshakable. It wasn’t about belief or doctrine. It was about how they existed in the world. They weren’t trying to convince me of anything; they simply were.

Curiosity led me to explore more deeply. I found my way to Eckhart Tolle’s writings, and his invitation to 'live in the now' struck a chord that my rational skepticism couldn’t dismiss. From there, I began meditating — not as an exercise to achieve something, but as a way to simply observe.

This wasn’t a surrender to irrationality. It was a suspension of judgment.

What I began to realize was this: the problem wasn’t necessarily with religion or spirituality itself. It was with how the tools of these traditions — rituals, texts, stories — are used and interpreted.

It’s like carrying a raft long after crossing the river.

2. The Raft and the River: Tools vs. Transformation

Spiritual traditions, like many human systems, offer tools — rituals, practices, scriptures, and teachings — designed to point toward something deeper: an experience of connection, insight, and transformation.

• The Outer Shell: This is the structure — prayer, meditation techniques, ceremonies, scripture study.
• The Inner Core: This is the outcome — presence, peace, insight, and a sense of connection to something larger.

The tools are essential. You need the raft to cross the river. But at some point, you must let go of the raft and step onto the shore.

Yet, so often, the tools become the destination. Rituals become mechanical. Beliefs become rigid. The outer shell becomes an idol, rather than a means.

In my early skepticism, I threw out the raft entirely, dismissing both the tools and the transformation they pointed to. But when I began meditating, reading Tolle, and exploring with an open mind, I realized something: the tools aren’t the problem — it’s how we relate to them.

3. When the Tools Become Cages: The Spiritual Gateway Problem

Religious and spiritual tools often invite people into non-rational spaces — stories of heaven and hell, metaphors about rebirth, symbolic rituals. These tools can act as gateways to deeper insight.

But there’s a catch: if critical thinking is suspended entirely, these tools can become traps.

• Stories intended as metaphors for inner transformation get taken literally.
• Rituals meant to cultivate presence become rigid performances.
• Teachings meant to point beyond words become rules for obedience.

I realized that Richard Dawkins wasn’t entirely wrong — there are dangers in unquestioned faith. But what Dawkins missed (and what I couldn’t see until I suspended judgment) is that tools, when used skillfully, can open up transformative spaces.

In meditation, I wasn’t asked to believe anything. I was simply asked to observe my mind. And through observation, something shifted.

It wasn’t about belief — it was about experience.

4. Horizontal vs. Vertical Growth: Two Dimensions of the Journey

Through my exploration, I began to notice two distinct dimensions of growth:

1. Horizontal Growth: Expanding outward — reading more books, attending more talks, practicing more techniques.
2. Vertical Growth: Deepening inward — cultivating presence, experiencing direct insight, surrendering the need for control.

In religion, horizontal growth looks like studying scripture, attending services, or following moral rules. Vertical growth is the quiet, inner shift where all those practices dissolve into being.

One isn’t better than the other. They are complementary.

• Horizontal growth builds the raft.
• Vertical growth gets you across the river.

But many people (myself included, for a long time) get stuck building and repairing the raft — endlessly preparing but never crossing.

5. Practical Reflection: How to Reassess the Tools We Carry

Letting go of the raft doesn’t mean abandoning tools altogether. It means using them wisely and letting them go when they’ve served their purpose.

A few simple questions I now ask myself regularly:
1. What purpose was this tool designed to serve?
2. Is it still serving that purpose, or am I just maintaining it out of habit?
3. What would it look like to let go or evolve it?

In my meditation practice, I no longer meditate to achieve something. I meditate to be with what is.

6. Conclusion: The Raft Isn’t the Shore

The tools of religion and spirituality — rituals, teachings, meditation — are rafts designed to help us cross rivers. But they are not the shore.

The lesson is simple but profound: Use the tools, but don’t mistake them for the goal.

The raft isn’t the destination. It was always just for crossing the river.

Earlier this year, I met Jay through Bryan Dennstedt, a partner at TechCXO. Jay’s an expert in sales and an advisor at Advisory5. He’s passionate about guiding founders through the toughest part—getting customers—and turning their ideas into sustainable revenue. Our conversations about fractional leadership drove home a simple truth: Strategic focus beats opportunism every time.

Why Fractional CROs Matter in Health Tech

A fractional CRO brings the expertise of a senior sales leader—without the cost of a full-time hire. Founders in health tech usually shine at product development, but cracking the complexities of healthcare sales is a different game. Engaging a fractional CRO early gives startups a strategic advantage. They help build go-to-market strategies, activate key networks, and structure sales pipelines that align with long-term goals.Founders often chase too many leads, hoping to appeal to everyone. A fractional CRO brings focus, zeroing in on the right buyers within niche segments. By narrowing the target, the startup avoids distractions and lays the foundation for a scalable sales strategy.

One common misstep? Hiring tactical roles too soon—like business development reps—before a real strategy is in place. As Jay puts it, “Hiring a BDR without strategic oversight is like building a house without a blueprint.” A fractional CRO makes sure the strategy comes first, avoiding costly mistakes and wasted efforts.

The First 90 Days: From Segmentation to Predictable Revenue

In just the first 30, 60, and 90 days, a fractional CRO delivers several key contributions:

1. Segmentation and Market Focus

Founders often chase too many leads, trying to appeal to everyone. A fractional CRO narrows the focus, identifying the right buyers within niche segments. This focus ensures the startup avoids distractions and builds a scalable sales strategy.

2. Building a Go-to-Market Strategy

Jay emphasizes the importance of aligning the value proposition with business outcomes. In health tech, this means tying clinical benefits to ROI—not just explaining what the product does for patients, but showing how it improves outcomes for buyers, like insurers or healthcare providers.

3. Activating Networks and Leveraging Relationships

One of Jay’s core principles is network activation. Founders and investors often overlook the value within their own networks. A fractional CRO helps founders strategically engage their contacts—whether to open doors, secure pilots, or gather feedback. As Jay puts it, “Respecting relationship capital” ensures outreach stays meaningful and effective.

4. Establishing a Repeatable Sales Process

A key contribution of fractional CROs is building a predictable sales process. They structure deal stages and set clear milestones, giving the company a solid framework for consistent growth. Jay also emphasizes the importance of understanding not just why deals are lost, but why they’re won, so successful strategies can be replicated and scaled.

Strategic Focus vs. Opportunism: A Balancing Act

In health tech, opportunism is both tempting and risky. Founders often chase quick wins by tweaking their product to attract different buyers. But this dilutes the core value of the product and complicates investor expectations. Jay advises founders to stay focused on their key offering and build relationships within well-defined segments.

“Some deals are expensive—not just in time but in how they pull you off course,” Jay warns. He urges founders to prioritize aligned opportunities—those that fit the company’s mission and support long-term growth. Chasing short-term wins can fragment the product offering and erode investor trust, as they expect the company to stay true to its original vision.

When Should a Startup Engage a Fractional CRO?

The ideal time to bring in a fractional CRO is early—right after funding rounds—when the startup is gearing up to scale but hasn’t yet built a structured sales strategy. Founders may feel pressured to quickly grow their sales teams, but without strategic leadership, those early hires often lead to wasted time and resources.

Jay explains that fractional CROs lay the groundwork by building processes, activating networks, and aligning the sales team’s efforts with the company’s strategic goals. This early alignment ensures that tactical moves—like email campaigns or cold calls—are driven by a clear, focused strategy, not executed at random.

A Success Story: Staying Focused for Long-Term Wins

Jay shared the story of a health tech startup that initially struggled with opportunism. They kept pivoting their product to suit different buyers, but this diluted their core value proposition. When they brought in a fractional CRO, everything changed. The company narrowed its focus to a single niche market. In just 90 days, they activated their investor network, targeted high-priority prospects, and built a predictable sales pipeline.

This shift allowed the startup to grow without losing sight of its mission. Investors became more confident, seeing clear alignment between the product, sales strategy, and market demand. Not only did the company close key deals, but they also established a repeatable process for future growth.

Conclusion: Fractional CROs Keep Startups on the Right Track

The path from product development to sustainable revenue is anything but easy for health tech founders. Without the right leadership, startups risk getting pulled off course by chasing too many opportunities, sacrificing focus, and losing alignment. A fractional CRO brings the clarity, structure, and strategy needed to keep the company on track and lay a solid foundation for growth.

Jay’s work with Advisory5 and TechCXO showcases the impact of fractional leadership. With the right guidance, startups can activate their networks strategically, develop targeted go-to-market plans, and build reliable revenue streams. For founders trying to balance passion with business strategy, bringing in a fractional CRO isn’t just a nice-to-have—it’s a critical step toward long-term success.

I first met Leon when he pitched and won at Advisory5’s MedTech Mavericks event in June. Intrigued by his journey, I traveled to Asheville to have a deeper conversation and to explore the possibility of Leon joining our Advisory5 program. In this article, I’ll share seven key insights that can inspire and guide other entrepreneurs in the medtech and health tech fields.

Seven Insights from My Talk with Leon:

1. Make sure unmet needs affect all stakeholders — and there has to be an ROI.

2. Have patience and keep learning.

3. Be ready to sacrifice your personal and family time.

4. Surround yourself with the right advisors.

5. Be realistic and strategic about money.

6. Have a clear vision.

7. Adapt and stay optimistic.

Insight 1: Make Sure Unmet Needs Affect All Stakeholders

Leon’s journey began with recognizing a critical gap in ICU care: effective glucose management. Nurses had to spend up to two hours per patient per day managing glucose levels. Yet, the outcomes were often less than optimal, with patients frequently experiencing dangerous fluctuations in blood sugar levels.

Leon created an algorithm and a device that could dramatically improve patient outcomes by increasing the time that glucose levels stayed within the target range of 70-180 mg/dL and reducing the occurrence of hypoglycemia, which can halve ICU mortality rates.

But the potential benefits of the system don’t stop at better clinical outcomes. It also allows hospitals to significantly improve their financial performance. “Hospitals in the U.S. operate on razor-thin margins, averaging around 3.8%,” Leon explained. “Our system could nearly triple their profit margin for patients using the device.” This increase in efficiency—cutting nurse management time from two hours to just 20 minutes per patient per day—translates into both cost savings and enhanced care quality.

This dual benefit of clinical improvement and financial viability is what makes this system so compelling, ensuring it meets the needs of every stakeholder involved.

Insight 2: Have Patience and Keep Learning

When Leon first conceived his idea in 2007, he believed the path to market would be relatively quick. However, the reality of bringing a medical device to life was far more complex and time-consuming than he anticipated. “I thought I could bring this system to market in a year or two,” Leon shared. “But it quickly became clear that it was going to be a much longer process.”

Leon had to immerse himself in areas that were initially unfamiliar to him, such as FDA regulations, risk analysis, and device design documentation. “There’s a huge learning curve,” Leon admitted. “As a clinician, you wouldn’t think about things like risk analysis tables or software design documents, but these are all regulated and require strict adherence to standards.”

Recognizing his limitations, Leon brought in experts who could fill the gaps in his knowledge, especially in critical areas like regulatory compliance and grant writing. “You definitely need help from regulatory consultants when you start doing FDA submissions,” Leon emphasized, underscoring the importance of experienced professionals in navigating these complexities.

Now, 17 years later, Leon remains realistically optimistic and is excited to get this journey over the finish line. However, he acknowledges that this long road is something every entrepreneur needs to be prepared for: it’s not going to be one or two years.

Insight 3: Be ready to sacrifice your personal and family time

When Leon first began developing his glucose control system, he was still working full-time as a pediatric ICU physician. The demands of both roles were immense, often requiring him to work early mornings and late nights. To keep both his clinical duties and his entrepreneurial aspirations on track, Leon had to sacrifice weekends and personal time.

“I would work between 3 or 4 in the morning and 6 or 7, and then again late at night, just to make sure I could still spend time with my children,” Leon shared. It was an exhausting routine, but necessary to make progress on both fronts.

Today, Leon has found a more sustainable balance. He works 23 weeks a year at the hospital, dedicating the remaining 29 weeks to his innovation. This shift has made managing both roles more feasible, but it remains a demanding juggling act. “Balancing the two is tough,” he admitted, “but if you’re committed, you find a way.”

The ultimate goal for Leon is to transition to working full-time on his innovation. For a physician, balancing both the demands of medical practice and entrepreneurship is challenging, but as Leon’s journey shows, it’s hard but doable.

Insight 4: Surround Yourself with the Right Advisors

Early on, Leon recognized that his medical expertise alone wasn’t enough to navigate the complex world of medical device development. He needed specialists who could fill in the gaps, particularly in areas like regulatory compliance, technical development, and grant writing.

“You definitely need help from regulatory consultants when you start doing FDA submissions,” Leon emphasized. Beyond regulatory support, Leon also leaned on the expertise of engineers and other technical professionals who contributed to the development of the device. His son, an electrical engineer, was instrumental in refining the system’s design and ensuring that it met the rigorous standards required for medical devices.

However, it wasn’t just the technical and regulatory aspects where Leon needed help. As a physician, he wasn’t initially well-versed in business practices. Preparing his financial records for the audit prior to securing the NIH grant was a significant challenge. Leon had to quickly learn about financial management and business operations, relying on the advice of business consultants to ensure everything was in order.

It’s this network of expertise and guidance that transforms a vision into reality, making the difference between a project that stalls and one that ultimately succeeds.

Insight 5: Be Realistic and Strategic About Money

Leon began by securing a friends and family round, which provided the initial capital necessary to get the project off the ground. This early funding was crucial, but as the project advanced, it became clear that more substantial financial support would be needed to push his innovation forward.

The next major step was securing a $1.9 million NIH grant—a significant milestone that validated the potential of his technology. Following this, Leon obtained a $250,000 loan from the North Carolina Biotechnology Center (NC Biotech), which provided additional financial support during the project’s critical development phases. Yet, even with these resources, Leon found it necessary to dip into his personal funds to keep the business lean and ensure its continuity.

As he approaches commercialization, Leon is now considering the strategic use of venture capital, particularly from hospital-based firms that not only understand the healthcare landscape but also align with his long-term vision.

Ultimately, it’s not just about finding money—it’s about finding the right money that aligns with your vision and sustains your journey.

Insight 6: Have a Clear Vision

From the start, Leon’s goal was to build a platform company capable of automating many manual processes in hospitals, ultimately transforming ICU care on a broad scale.

Central to this vision is the development of an ideal system for controlling glucose levels in critically ill patients, with plans to eventually expand to managing diabetes care across the entire hospital setting. “The goal is to build a platform company that automates many manual processes in the hospital,” Leon explained. This broader perspective has been the cornerstone of his strategy.

Leon’s commitment to this vision extends to his ongoing involvement in the company’s future. “I’m committed to staying involved with the company’s future innovations, rather than simply seeking a quick exit,” Leon noted. For him, success isn’t just about bringing a single product to market — it’s about making a lasting impact on the healthcare system.

Insight 7: Adapt and Stay Optimistic

Over the course of 17 years, Leon has faced numerous challenges, from shifting regulatory landscapes to advancements in technology and increasing competition. Yet, through it all, he has maintained an optimistic outlook, believing in the potential of his innovation and its impact on patient care.

“A lot has changed since 2007, and staying on top of these changes has been crucial,” Leon reflected. For example, Leon plans to integrate machine learning into his system once it’s deployed, optimizing its performance based on real-world data.

But more than just adapting, Leon’s optimism has fueled his persistence. He remains excited about the future and is committed to seeing his innovation through to commercialization.

Leon’s journey shows that while challenges are inevitable, the ability to adapt and remain optimistic is what sustains innovation and ultimately leads to success.

The Importance of Timing

Ken Russell often talks about the critical role of timing in a startup’s success. He makes it clear that the difference between thriving and failing often hinges on whether founders can spot and act on the right opportunities. Ken describes this as recognizing “windows of opportunity” that open and close quickly. Entrepreneurs who can sense these shifts and move decisively are the ones who succeed, while those who miss the moment may find themselves left behind.

“Windows open and close, and you have to be ready to act when the timing is right,” Russell explains. “Being precise with your decisions—knowing when to pivot, when to scale, and when to exit—is crucial for long-term success.”

Precision in Decision-Making

Ken Russell’s journey shows how crucial precision is in decision-making. He’s consistently made strategic moves that sync with market demands and tech advancements. From his early days developing intranets for banks to pioneering Wi-Fi in Charlotte, Ken’s approach has always been about seeing the bigger picture and making informed, calculated decisions.

For health tech entrepreneurs, this means staying sharp on industry regulations, tech trends, and the competitive landscape. It’s about being disciplined with resources and smart about managing risks.

“Entrepreneurs need to be precise in their focus,” Russell advises. “It’s easy to get distracted by new ideas or potential opportunities, but staying true to your core vision and being methodical in your approach will set you apart.”

Balancing Passion with Pragmatism

Another key part of Ken’s approach to entrepreneurial precision is finding the balance between passion and pragmatism. Passion fuels innovation and pushes entrepreneurs to break new ground, but Ken warns against getting too emotionally attached to any one idea or product. The most successful entrepreneurs can step back, view their ventures objectively, and make the tough calls when needed.

“Your idea may be your baby, but you have to be willing to let it go if it’s not working,” Ken says. “Entrepreneurs who can detach themselves emotionally from their products are better equipped to make the hard decisions that lead to success.”

This pragmatic approach gives entrepreneurs the flexibility to pivot when needed, explore new opportunities, and ultimately set their startups up for success. It’s about staying focused on the overall mission, not just one version of the idea.

The Role of Collaboration

Ken Russell emphasizes that collaboration is key to entrepreneurial success. Precision in entrepreneurship isn’t just about making the right calls on your own; it’s also about understanding the value of partnerships and teamwork. Throughout Ken’s career, his most impactful innovations came from joining forces with others, combining expertise to achieve greater results.

“Collaboration is where the magic happens,” he notes. “By working together, entrepreneurs can amplify their strengths, fill gaps in their knowledge, and create something far greater than what they could achieve alone.”

For health tech entrepreneurs, this might mean forming strategic alliances with other startups, teaming up with academic institutions for research, or working closely with regulatory bodies to tackle the complexities of the healthcare industry.

A powerful way to build these collaborations is through platforms like Advisory5. It connects entrepreneurs with seasoned advisors and industry experts, offering access to a network of mentors who provide strategic guidance, industry insights, and practical advice to help navigate their journey.

“An advisory board isn’t just a sounding board; it’s a strategic asset,” Ken explains. “Having access to seasoned professionals who’ve faced similar challenges can give you the clarity and direction needed to succeed.”

Learning and Adaptation

Finally, Ken Russell’s guide to entrepreneurial precision emphasizes the importance of continuous learning and adaptation. The entrepreneurial journey is not a straight line; it’s a dynamic process that requires constant reassessment and adjustment. Ken advises founders to stay curious, keep learning, and be open to change.

“Success in entrepreneurship is about constantly learning and evolving,” Russell says. “The market will change, technologies will evolve, and you have to be ready to adapt.”

This mindset of lifelong learning and adaptability is vital in health tech, where innovation moves fast and regulatory landscapes can change without warning.

Conclusion

It’s been exciting to work with Ken over the last seven months on our journey with Advisory5 and to see the impact his connections have had on the founders in our program.

Ken Russell’s approach to entrepreneurship is a masterclass in precision—combining strategic foresight, disciplined decision-making, and the ability to adapt. For entrepreneurs, especially in health tech, his insights provide a valuable roadmap for navigating the complexities of the startup world. By embracing timing, collaboration, pragmatism, and continuous learning—and leveraging the expertise from advisory boards and platforms like Advisory5—entrepreneurs can set their ventures up not just to survive, but to achieve lasting success.

Insights from the Insider

1. What Are Clinical Trials?

Clinical trials are research studies performed on people that are aimed at evaluating a medical, surgical, or behavioral intervention. They are the primary way researchers determine if a new treatment, like a new drug or diet or medical device (for example, a pacemaker), is safe and effective in people.

Olya explains, “Clinical trials are essentially a process of testing a drug that has been approved by the FDA for human trials. This can be in phases, from initial small-scale Phase 1 trials to large-scale Phase 3 trials. The purpose is to ensure the drug’s safety and efficacy before it can be marketed.”

2. What Should Startups Consider / Know About Clinical Trials?

For startups venturing into clinical trials, understanding the complexities and planning accordingly is crucial. Olya emphasizes the importance of having a clear vision and a well-defined budget. “Make sure you have a goal in mind and everything outlined. Do not make decisions midway, as this can skew your timelines and financial aspects,” she advises.

She also underscores the significance of selecting the right Clinical Research Organization (CRO). “The first thing startups should do is decide which CRO they will partner with. Your partners are more knowledgeable in the regulatory procedures, which is critical for the success of your trial.”

3. CROs and Their Role

A Clinical Research Organization (CRO) plays a pivotal role in the execution of clinical trials. They handle the logistics, regulatory compliance, and data management necessary for a successful trial. Olya highlights the differences between average and top-tier CROs. “There is a measurable difference in delivery and expertise. Larger CROs can provide a wider range of services in-house, which makes the process smoother.”

She adds, “When choosing a CRO, it’s essential to interview them, understand their capabilities, and see who you connect with. A good relationship with your CRO can significantly impact the trial’s success.”

4. Career in Clinical Trials

Olya’s Story

Olya’s journey into clinical trials is a testament to her resilience and dedication. Starting as a nurse in Ukraine, she moved to the United States and initially worked in a different industry. “I started working in transportation, completely removed from the medical field. Seven years ago, an opportunity arose to get back into the medical field, which I grabbed. I started from the very bottom as a clinical trial assistant,” she recalls.

Her Current Role

Now, as a Project Lead at Thermo Fisher Scientific, Olya manages the technical and operational aspects of clinical trials. She coordinates multifunctional teams, oversees vendor management, and ensures compliance with regulatory standards. “My role involves managing timelines, finances, and making sure that every aspect of the trial runs smoothly,” she explains.

Advice for People Considering This as a Career

For those considering a career in clinical trials, Olya offers valuable advice. “Go for it. If you have an opportunity, don’t hesitate. The impact of the work we do is incredibly rewarding. There are days when the work is tough, but knowing that the medication you’re helping to develop could change lives is worth it.”

She also stresses the importance of continuous learning. “You never stop learning in this field. There’s always something new to understand and improve upon. Whether it’s regulatory standards, medical writing, or data management, being open to learning is crucial.”

Conclusion

Olya Lebedyeva’s journey and insights provide a comprehensive look into the world of clinical trials. From understanding what clinical trials are to the challenges and rewards of managing them, her experiences offer valuable lessons for startups and individuals considering a career in this field. At Advisory5, we are thrilled to have her expertise and look forward to the positive impact she will have on startups in our program.

What is Change Management?

Organizational Change Management (OCM) is a structured approach to transitioning individuals, teams, and organizations from a current state to a desired future state. It involves the application of tools, processes, and techniques to manage the people side of change to achieve a required business outcome. OCM is essential for the success of any change initiative, as it helps to minimize disruption, maximize employee engagement, and ensure that the desired outcomes are achieved. In our talk, Deron focuses on one of several aspects of Change, Training and Development.

Here are the other key aspects of OCM:

1. Assessing the Change Impact.

2. Stakeholder Analysis and Engagement.

3. Communication Planning.

4. Resistance Management.

5. Change Implementation.

6. Monitoring and Evaluation.

7. Sustainability and Reinforcement.

Five Change Management Lessons

1. Understanding the Role of a Change Management Leader

Deron’s career in change management began as a trainer, where he quickly learned the importance of bridging the gap between complex systems and the people who use them. He explains, “Organizations invest millions of dollars in new technologies to streamline their business processes, but without ensuring their people understand and embrace these changes, they can’t realize the full return on investment.” This analogy of buying a Lamborghini without knowing how to use it effectively, maintain it, analyze its impact and readiness of ownership among many other important planning and strategy activities, perfectly encapsulates the necessity of his role: ensuring that employees are equipped and motivated to leverage new systems and business processes effectively.

2. The Power of Empathy and Active Listening

One of Deron’s most profound lessons is the transformative power of empathy, active listening, and taking immediate, thoughtful action based on feedback. He shares a formative experience from his early days working in an emergency room, where he learned that actively listening to patients and taking measures, however small, to alleviate their discomfort significantly reduced their anxiety and pain.

“In change management, you’re often dealing with individuals who may be resistant or fearful of change,” Deron explains. “By genuinely listening to their concerns, taking actionable steps to address their needs, and communicating with empathy, you can significantly reduce their resistance.”

Deron consistently applies this approach, engaging with team members at all levels of the organization. He emphasizes that empathy is not merely about understanding others’ feelings but about actively demonstrating that their input and experiences are valued. When executed correctly, this practice builds trust and fosters a collaborative environment, making it easier for people to embrace change.

3. Authentic Communication: A Crucial Tool

Authentic communication stands as a cornerstone of Deron’s approach to change management. He underscores the significance of being genuine and transparent when discussing changes. “People can sense when you’re not being authentic. If they perceive that you’re being dishonest or withholding information, it fosters mistrust and resistance.”

Deron advocates integrating authentic communication into all interactions, and not just in the workplace. This practice can involve simple yet impactful actions, such as initiating friendly conversations with strangers, engaging in meaningful small talk, and attentively listening to feedback. By demonstrating genuine interest and honesty, leaders can build stronger, more trusting relationships.

This approach highlights that authenticity is not a one-time effort but a continuous practice. By consistently showing transparency and sincerity, leaders can effectively mitigate resistance to change and foster a supportive atmosphere for transformation.

4. Managing Time and Priorities

Effective change management hinges on efficient time and priority management. Deron underscores the importance of concentrating on high-value activities while minimizing time spent on unproductive tasks. “If a meeting isn’t beneficial or doesn’t require your input, politely excuse yourself and use that time for more productive work,” he advises.

Deron’s disciplined approach to time management is a cornerstone of his success. By focusing on key priorities and avoiding unnecessary distractions, he consistently meets deadlines and stays within budget. His meticulous time management has earned him respect and trust from clients and colleagues alike. “Your ability to manage time and priorities is crucial to your effectiveness as a change management leader,” he asserts.

5. Building a Structured Routine

A well-structured routine is crucial for achieving and maintaining peak physical performance, mental clarity, and emotional stability, especially in demanding roles like change management. Deron starts his day at 3:30 AM, including weekends, with a regimen that includes prayer, meditation, yoga, physical exercise, sunbathing, two meals (midday and before sunset) and limited exposure to electronic devices. This comprehensive routine not only sets the stage for a productive day but also supports a fulfilling and well-balanced life.

“It took me years to develop a routine that works for me, but now it’s something I can’t live without,” Deron shares. He encourages others to develop their own routines, even if it means starting small and gradually building consistency. Make consistency the goal. “The right routine not only enhances your productivity but also enhances your overall well-being.”

Three Personal Transformation Lessons

1. Achieve Authenticity with an Advisor’s (or Your Mom’s) Guidance

2. Finish your creative process before getting feedback

3. Learn from everyone, and even from ants to pay attention to small details

Looking Ahead: A Vision for the Future

Deron’s vision extends beyond individual projects and organizations. Inspired by a visit to Guyana, he aims to have a broader social and environmental impact. He envisions a future where his talents and expertise can contribute to large-scale transformations, addressing issues like waste management and sustainable development.

“I realized that I can provide value on a much bigger scale than I had been doing. It’s about using my skills to make a meaningful difference in the world,” he reflects. This long-term vision underscores the importance of setting ambitious goals and continuously striving for personal and professional growth.

Conclusion

I am convinced that Deron Lespoir’s insights into change management offer valuable lessons for leaders and organizations navigating the complexities of transformation. By embracing empathy, active listening, authentic communication, efficient time management, and a structured routine, we can transform ourselves and our organizations. Meeting Deron was an enlightening experience, and I hope you find as much value in his insights as I have.