Design or Manage? The One Mistake We Make in Both Our Lives and Our Businesses.
We spend years optimizing what already exists. In our companies, we call it "continuous improvement" or "change management." In our personal lives, we call it "being realistic." But in both cases, we risk making the same fundamental error: we manage the past instead of designing the future.
Most planning and change initiatives, whether personal or professional, follow a familiar pattern. They start with what is tangible and known.
In Our Personal Lives: The Trap of Life Management
We look at our lives and see: Where do we live, and who are we surrounded by? (Environment). How do we act to meet the expectations of others or follow our own habits? (Behavior). What skills have we acquired over the years? (Capabilities).
From these circumstances, we often unconsciously derive our values and beliefs—mostly adopted from our upbringing and social circles. This forges an identity ("That's just the way I am"), and based on this identity, we set goals that fit. Goals that perpetuate the existing system but rarely challenge it.
This isn’t shaping your life. It's efficient life management. You're optimizing a system you never consciously designed.
In Our Businesses: The Cult of Incrementalism
In organizations, the pattern is identical. We analyze the status quo: our markets, our offices, our IT systems (Environment). We audit our processes and workflows (Behavior). We create competency matrices (Capabilities). Based on this analysis, we set "realistic" quarterly and annual goals.
The deeper levels, like values and identity? They often become little more than interchangeable slogans on the "About Us" page, disconnected from daily reality. The result isn't change; it's the continuation of the status quo in small, manageable steps.
This isn’t transformation. It's incrementalism. You're just polishing the present, hoping it will be good enough for the future.
The Logical Levels model, developed by Robert Dilts, powerfully illustrates why this bottom-up approach is doomed to fail when aiming for genuine, profound change. It reveals that the most powerful levers for transformation are at the top of the pyramid, not the bottom.
The levels build on one another:
Anyone who initiates change only on the lower levels (Environment, Behavior, Capabilities) without addressing the upper levels will only create superficial adjustments. These adjustments will quickly be rejected by the "immune system" of the organization or one's own personality.
True transformation, whether personal or organizational, begins at the top. It deliberately reverses the order.
In the end, it comes down to a fundamental choice. The bottom-up approach is the path of the archaeologist. They excavate the existing, analyze it, polish it, and place it in a display case. It is a safe path, based on what is already there. It preserves, but it does not create.
The top-down approach is the path of the architect. They begin with a vision on a blank sheet of paper. They design a bold new structure, unconstrained by the ruins of the past.
Yes, this architectural path requires courage. It can be painful, demanding that we let go of cherished certainties and old identities. But it's the only path that leads not to an improved yesterday, but to an intentional new tomorrow.
Processes are optimized, new software is introduced, departments are restructured – organizational change is often rationally planned. Yet its success rarely depends solely on logic and strategy. It is ultimately decided by how people react to change. And this reaction follows a surprisingly predictable emotional pattern: the Change Curve.
Did you know that one of the most well-known models in change
management has its roots in psychological research?
In the 1960s, psychiatrist Elisabeth
Kübler-Ross described the stages people go through
when confronted with the inevitable – the process of dying.
What may sound far removed from everyday business reality is,
in fact, a profound insight: people experience similar
emotional phases whenever they face deep, externally driven
change.
Whether it’s a strategic shift, the introduction of agile
methods, or a team merger – the emotional journey from
resistance to acceptance is universal.
The Change Curve acts like a map that provides orientation in the often-confusing dynamics of transformation. It makes visible where a team or individual currently stands:
Understanding these phases is the foundation for consciously
shaping change. This connects directly to my
Transformation-in-the-loop approach:
The curve shows where structured loops of reflection,
adjustment, and reconnection are essential.
When shock prevails, CLARITY is
key:
People need clear, honest, and repeated communication.
The goal is to restore orientation and a sense of
control.
When resistance arises, INVOLVEMENT
matters:
This is the time for dialogue. Concerns must be heard,
questions answered, and participation enabled. Simply
pushing plans through only fuels further resistance.
In the valley of tears, SPACE FOR REFLECTION is
essential:
Leaders are needed as emotional anchors and
perspective-givers. This is the moment to reaffirm the
why behind the change and provide reassurance
that the team will move through the low point together.
The phases of the Change Curve are not a fate to be endured.
They are a tool for self-reflection and conscious
leadership.
Recognizing where you or your team currently stand is the
foundation for effective leadership in times of change. It
enables you not only to take responsibility yourself but also
to create the right conditions for others to act – and to
co-shape the transformation.
That’s why the Change Curve is also known as the
Responsibility Curve.
We cannot prevent the emotional waves of change – but we can
learn to ride them with confidence.