It was marketed as the ultimate luxury music experience. Supermodels on yachts. Private jets. Tickets selling for thousands—some packages over $200,000.

But when guests arrived, the reality was a nightmare. A rainstorm had soaked the site. The "luxury villas" were actually disaster relief tents, and the mattresses inside were piled up, soaking wet. The gourmet meals were cheese sandwiches in Styrofoam boxes.

In April 1846, the Donner and Reed families set out for California with one north star: arrive safely before winter.

A clear, simple goal—one that required steady progress and smart decisions along the way. But when they started falling behind schedule, they reached for a shortcut. And that’s when everything began to unravel.

In 2013, Target stormed into Canada with the confidence you’d expect from one of America’s most beloved retailers. They opened more than 100 stores in a single year.

Canadians were eager. Surveys showed 52% were excited about the launch.

But when the doors opened, the dream collapsed. Shelves were half-empty. Prices felt higher than promised. On opening day, some stores even hung signs out front that read: "We're open (mostly)."

For eighteen months, Ford built the suspense.

The Edsel would be revolutionary—the car of the future. Dealers clamored for allocation. Customers waited to see what Ford had been hiding.

Then, in September 1957, the curtain lifted.

Within three years, the Edsel was dead, leaving losses that totaled more than $2 billion in today’s dollars.

We humans aren’t good at taking in lots of completely new information. Metaphors lighten the load and speed up clarity. They pin new ideas to something people already understand so they can act on them faster.

Alignment isn’t everyone nodding in agreement. You can’t determine alignment with a yes or no question. Alignment runs too deep for that.

True alignment is when everyone making the same decision when you’re not in the room.

When alignment isn’t real, the cracks show up fast.

The Problem: Scoreboards don’t create clarity

A target tells you what outcome you want, but not what you must become or improve to achieve it.

Yes, teams can act on “grow revenue.” But those actions will fragment—each group doing what makes sense in their lane. One team discounts. Another raises prices. Marketing adds promos. Ops tightens costs.

Everyone’s rowing, but not in the same direction.

Scroll LinkedIn long enough and you’ll see the usual suspects:

• Posts claiming Steve Jobs didn’t believe in market research.

• That Netflix beat Blockbuster because they had more vision.

• That Kodak went bankrupt because it ignored digital photography. 

They make for great click bait. Visionaries as heroes, analysts as villains. The punchline is always the same: one bold idea is all it takes. What’s missing is the part that actually determines who wins — execution.

Let’s take them one at a time.

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

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

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

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

“Reasoning is biased in favor of the reasoner.”

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

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

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

Do you remember The Dress controversy?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And behavioral science backs this up.

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

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

When teams and leaders fully commit—when there’s no mental “escape hatch” of half-hearted support—they unlock a different level of focus, resilience, and momentum. This doesn’t mean blind loyalty or ignoring challenges. It means choosing a direction, aligning behind it, and moving forward with conviction.

And commitment has real, tangible benefits. Research shows that when leaders and teams fully commit to a strategic direction, they gain several advantages that boost execution: greater focus, stronger team cohesion, and increased resilience in the face of challenges.

When teams commit to a strategy, even with reservations, they experience powerful effects that strengthen execution. Focus improves, collaboration deepens, and momentum builds—driving both performance and team cohesion.

When it comes to early communication about change, getting the message right is critical. Change inherently stirs emotions—uncertainty, excitement, fear, and hope. Our message must address these emotions head-on, guiding our audience from resistance to acceptance. 

One of the most critical steps is clearly explaining the Why behind it. Why is change necessary? Why now? Why is this the right path? Without a compelling and well-articulated “Why,” even the best strategies will face resistance.

Over the years, I’ve developed a framework I call “Hook / Scare / Comfort / Inspire” to craft a message that answers these questions. It connects the logic of the change to the emotions of the people who will execute it.

When Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon in 1969, it wasn’t just the result of a lofty idea shouted from the rooftops. It was the culmination of a meticulously connected network of goals that guided every team and individual.[1] NASA’s mission—“land a man on the moon and return him safely to Earth”—was audacious, but it succeeded because it cascaded into precise objectives at every level. By breaking the impossible into achievable steps, NASA turned an aspirational vision into a coordinated effort that worked.

Every organization needs goals that do the same. Effective goals take strategy out of the abstract and turn it into meaningful, actionable work. When properly aligned, goals ensure every individual knows how their contributions matter.

But too often, organizations treat goal-setting as an HR-driven exercise focused on annual performance reviews. If your goals are primarily driven by HR, your strategy is probably doomed. This isn’t a knock on HR—it’s about understanding that goal-setting must be at the core of strategic execution, not just a tool for annual evaluations.

When goals are deeply tied to strategy, they can transform execution. A quality goal-setting process may produce useful performance data, but its real purpose is to bring clarity and motivation to the strategy, making it tangible and engaging for every individual involved.

The most effective framework for achieving this connection, in my experience, is OKRs—Objectives and Key Results.

Reduce, reuse, recycle”is a rallying cry for sustaining our planet’s precious resources. Guess what? We can apply that same mantra to sustain our own organizational precious resources. The limited resources at stake are time, money, and people. By adopting these principles, we can turn scarcity into opportunity, creating leaner, more focused, and more effective teams who have the capacity to execute our new strategies.

We’re naturally wired to believe that adding more is the solution—more resources, more tools, more tasks…more complexity. Yet, as research shows, this instinct for addition can bog us down, leading to diminishing returns.