There was a stunned silence. Even on Zoom, I could see it and feel it.
My conversation with a professional peer had been lively and focused beforehand. The topic was assessments, which ones we use, why we use them, and the results we see.
We both agreed on a common one that we use as a great introduction to self-awareness and a tool for helping us communicate and work better with others who have different behavioral styles.
I shared my screen and popped up my personal assessment. It was then that the long pause ensued.
Finally, my peer found some words around the thoughts he was processing. It turns out, my profile was not at all what he expected. It indicated that my preference is slow steadiness, which is many times an indicator of someone resistant to change in favor of staying with what is known.
As he put words around his incredulity, it went something like this:
“I see you differently. You are not only open to change, but you encourage it. If I had to guess, I would have put you in the style that is much more dominant and goal-focused.”
My immediate reply to him was rather brilliant (if I do say so myself):
“There are multiple approaches to leading change. Some drive, that is not me. I am a dripper, not a driver.”
Later, I reflected on my immediate comeback. What did it mean to be a leader that “drips”, over time to effect change?
I thought about those I work with who were “drivers”. They set goals, and then Katie, bar the door! They are uber-focused on the change or goal and put tremendous effort into reaching it. Woe be to anyone in their way, for they will either be won over or stepped over.
As I thought back over my career at the great leaders I’ve worked with, a leader named Jim Generis came to mind. I recalled a time when reporting to Jim, he set a goal that the two pressrooms (think operating departments) would work together. Never mind that we were in two different locations. Never mind that we printed very different products. Never mind that we all believed we were better served to focus on our own areas exclusively.
At first, the supervisors, myself included, went along. We met once a week. One week at one location, the next week at the other. The room was not hostile, but neither was it hopeful. The meetings were muted and agonizingly long.
After a few weeks of this dynamic, the supervisors held “the meeting after the meeting”. Without Jim in the room, the discussion was energetic, and we were in complete agreement. The cross-departmental meetings were a total waste of time. We tried them; they had failed. There needed to be a straight-up conversation with Jim to ask that we disband the meetings.
Of course, I was elected the messenger.
I can still recall my angst about the conversation as I entered Jim’s office. In spite of reviewing the points I wanted to make, over and over and over again, my hands were sweaty and my stomach was doing flip-flops.
Jim welcomed me in. He listened quietly as I made my points. And then he looked me squarely in the eye and said:
“I hear you, and I’m not going to change my mind. It’s important for us to work together, and I will not stop the meetings. It’s up to each of you what you do with this time together, but I still insist that all supervisors attend this weekly meeting.”
Needless to say, my peers felt I had failed them. None the less, we continued to meet. Week after week. Month after month, with Jim steadfast in his determination that this WOULD work.
Yet there was a shift. Once we resigned ourselves to the fact that Jim was going to be relentless about meeting, we decided we might as well make the best of it. Cracks opened. Opportunities to collaborate were found once we were open to seeing them.
And I learned a valuable lesson: there are times one must set a goal, stand firm in one’s approach, and just keep dripping on people. In spite of opposition. In spite of slow progress. In spite of others not seeing your vision quite yet.
And so, I learned the value of persistence. Of staying with a thing, even when that thing was hard. Of challenging others to stay with it, in spite of the fact that they could not see where you were leading them, when your “why” didn’t make any sense to them.
As a veteran of hundreds of organizational changes, some self-initiated, others inflicted upon me, I’ve come to know that true and lasting change is always harder than anticipated, takes longer than one might imagine, and is filled with surprises, some pleasant and some not so much.
Which is why the steadiness and steadfastness of the “drip” method have some advantages over the long haul.
And for me, I suspect it has some appeal because my leadership style is more patient, more power with versus power over.
To be fair, while the “drip” method serves me well, there are other ways when the “drive” method is optimal.
A past team I led brought this painfully to my attention when, out of frustration, they said to me:
“This is not a big deal. Just make a decision and tell us what to do.”
And they were spot on. There are a myriad of small, inconsequential decisions that benefit from being fast, quick, and commanding. There are also times when action just needs to be taken and taken quickly. This is NOT the time for patience, for getting input, for explaining once more. In other words, there are “drive” situations where I needed to take a different approach than my norm.
There are also times when driving yields short-term results that can be detrimental to long-term goals. I see the impact of “dictates” from hard-driving leaders to do a certain thing by a certain time. Some examples:
- Reduce the workforce by 10% in 60 days.
- Close a plant, or operation, or product line by the end of the quarter.
- Increase efficiency by 5% in the fiscal year.
The mandate is clear, but far too often, the execution lacks rationale, resources, and the resilience to stay with the change. The drive is there, but it is the drip that will deliver the results.
The art of change is not in the push, but in the persistence to pursue the right path forward.
Just as a river slowly carves an expansive canyon, lasting change doesn’t always roar—it sometimes drips and flows and over time, affects something stunning.
So, as with much of what we encounter as we lead others, there is no one perfect way of being. The better I am at discerning what a situation requires of me, the better the outcome. The more I can move seamlessly between driving and dripping, the more successful the change becomes.
Drive | Drip |
· The situation is urgent and needs quick resolution | · The change needs to be lasting. |
· The change has no long-term strategic impact. | · There is room for innovation and creativity in the execution. |
· The way forward is clear and direct. | · You need broad support and engagement from multiple stakeholders. |
· The organization has far more pressing issues to attend to. | · The change is a fundamental shift in culture, operating processes, or market approach. |
· There is significant resistance to the change and a need to create quick momentum. | · There is significant resistance to the change and a need to “win people over”. |
And so, I hope you can recognize that steadiness isn’t always resistance—it can be resilience in motion. That true influence isn’t always fast, hard, and strong —it can be persistent, patient, and grounded. And that sometimes the most powerful move a leader can make is to stay the course.
I’ll end with some reflection questions:
- What is your preferred approach? To drive or to drip?
- What changes are you currently leading? Do they require driving, dripping, or a bit of both?
- What might change for you if you developed the discipline, patience, and longer-term view to continue “dripping” on the changes that are most important to you, your team and your organization?
As we find ourselves in times of unrelenting change, having the skills to navigate and lead change is critical. Reach out if you’d like to explore how you might equip your leaders to be more agile, adaptable, and comfortable with leading change!