- 3 days ago
- 6 min read
March 28, 2026
Read Time - 4 minutes
"Leadership is the art of disappointing people at a rate they can absorb." ~ Ronald Heifetz, Harvard professor and author of Leadership on the Line
I inherited a vision. When I took over the planning and construction of our new performing arts center, the plans on my desk included 11 new staff positions. That was the vision — a fully operational facility with the capacity to do what it was actually designed to do. Programming, production, touring events, community engagement. The whole picture. I spent two years planning around that number. Then as the opening crept closer and it came time to make those hires, the number changed. I was told to whittle down the new staff positions to the four most crucial roles we couldn't live without. And…(you may see where this is going)…we were eventually approved for two positions. Two. That's a big step back from 24 months envisioning 11 positions. I had the arguments lined up, the data prepared, and a strong rationale for at least the four most critical roles — operational needs, the impact on classroom instruction, how new revenue could offset cost. I was ready to fight. But I didn't get to make my case. There was no funding. Not "not enough" funding — no funding. The provost's office had worked hard on our behalf to find the funding we did receive, while other units across campus were losing staff lines entirely. I drove home that afternoon trying to figure out what to do with that.
The Wall Is Real. Now What?
Every academic leader who has tried to move an institution eventually hits a version of this moment. The change you believe in — the one you've built your thinking around, spent your capital on, maybe staked some of your identity on — runs into something immovable. Budget. Culture. Politics. Exhaustion. It doesn't always matter what the wall is made of. What matters is what you do when you're standing in front of it.
Harvard Business School professor John Kotter spent a decade observing more than 100 organizations attempting major transformation. His conclusion, published in a landmark 1995 HBR article, was sobering: most change efforts fall somewhere between success and utter failure, and they tilt distinctly toward the lower end of the scale.
Brian Rosenberg, who spent 17 years as president of Macalester College, makes the higher ed context even more specific. In his book Whatever It Is, I'm Against It, he argues change is an uphill battle on campus. Tenure-track faculty have little reason to change a system that protects them. Students tend to be conservative about institutional structure. Alumni idealize the institution as it was when they attended. "So there really aren't any internal constituencies that are incentivized to push for change," Rosenberg told Harvard's EdCast in 2023.
Which means hitting the wall isn't a sign that something went wrong.
It's the default condition of our institutions.
And that reframe matters — because before you can decide what to do next, you have to see where you actually are. Not where you planned to be. Or where the institution should be. Where it actually is right now. That means seeing clearly where people are — and then deciding, with eyes open, where to put your leadership energy. Much of a leader's suffering in this area, I would argue, doesn't come from the resistance. It comes from our resistance to the resistance.
Before any strategy, before any next move, two questions deserve an honest answer when faced with an immovable wall:
Is this change my mission — or my preference? There's a real difference between a change you're willing to spend serious capital on and one you'd simply like to see happen. Leaders I've coached conflate these constantly, and the confusion is expensive.
What is this costing me — and am I choosing that cost consciously? Sustained resistance is expensive. Not just strategically but personally. Naming that cost honestly is is an important part of leadership accounting.
Answer those two questions first. Then you're ready to look at what's actually available to you.
The Real Options
Most leadership writing on change gives you tactics for pushing through. That's useful — sometimes. But it skips the harder and more honest conversation about what a leader actually does when pushing through isn't working, isn't possible, or isn't worth what it costs.
Here are the real options. None of them are wrong.
Push through. You see the wall clearly, you understand the cost, and you lead into the resistance anyway. This is a legitimate choice — but only when it's a choice. The leader who pushes through consciously, with full awareness of what it will take, is doing something fundamentally different from the leader who pushes through because they haven't stopped to ask the question. One is a strategy. The other is a habit.
Shepherd to the next milestone. Your job isn't to complete the change. It's to get the institution to the point where the change becomes possible — for you or for whoever comes next. This requires naming the milestone clearly and leading toward it with full commitment, even knowing you may not be there when it lands. That's a complete and honorable arc. Some of the most important leadership work in higher ed looks exactly like this.
Plant the seeds. You shift the conversation. You bring in a voice that reframes the question. You make one hire who thinks differently. You ask the question in a faculty meeting that nobody can unhear. You may never see what grows from it. I wouldn't call that failure — it's a specific and undervalued kind of leadership. The gardener's timeline is longer than the administrator's calendar, and that's okay.
Reframe the win. The original vision isn't achievable right now — but a genuine version of it is. Not a compromise that guts the idea, but a real proxy win that moves the institution meaningfully in the right direction. The question to sit with honestly: can you lead toward that version with full commitment, or will you spend the whole time grieving the original? Both answers are valid. Only one of them is sustainable.
Leave. The gap between where you're trying to go and where the institution is willing to go is irreconcilable. The cost — to you, to your relationships, to your energy — is too high to keep paying. You determine these are not the challenges you want to solve at this point in your career. The most honest thing you can do for yourself and for the institution is to find somewhere your leadership can actually move something. This takes more courage to name than to stay and go through the motions.
The Bottom Line
That afternoon I drove home from a meeting I'd fully prepared to win. I didn't have language for what I was working through. I just knew the fight I'd prepared for wasn't the one in front of me anymore. What I eventually found — slowly, imperfectly — was something closer to what the Heifetz quote above describes. The two positions we did have were real. The people in them could do real work. Other units were losing ground while we were gaining it, however modestly. The vision I'd inherited wasn't going to be realized on my timeline. But a version of it could move forward. That was the reframe. Not resignation — a conscious choice about what leadership actually looked like given where the institution was. The leaders I've watched navigate this well aren't the ones who always push through. They're the ones who ask the honest questions first — about the institution, about the cost, about themselves — and then make a deliberate choice about where their energy actually belongs. There are no wrong answers here. Only honest ones and ones you haven't looked at yet.
Try This Before Friday
Name the change initiative you're currently leading — or the one you've been quietly planning. Then answer these two questions on paper, without showing anyone:
Is this my mission or my preference?
What is it costing me — and am I choosing that cost consciously?
You don't have to do anything with the answers yet. Just see what's actually there.
That's all for today. See you next week.
When you're ready, here are 2 ways I can help you:
💡 1:1 Coaching
If you're navigating politics, managing difficult personalities, or trying to protect time for the work that actually matters — that's exactly what my 1-on-1 coaching is built for. We work on your specific challenges, not generic leadership advice. A few spots open each quarter. Learn more.
🗣️ Workshops & Speaking
The best workshops don't just inform — they change how people work. I bring interactive sessions — on campus or virtual — focused on the skills academic teams need most: faster decisions, productive conflict, and systems that create time instead of consuming it. Learn more.