Predictable as the tax deadline, though far less productive.
This constant cycle of corporate change has become normal. A new org chart, new reporting lines, and new rules always arrive before the last ones have even been put into practice.
The official reason is always "to be more agile" or "to have a bigger impact," but it's rarely about making things cleaner or faster. For those on the front lines, it's really about shaking up the foundations you've worked hard to build.
The real cost isn't just lost time in meetings and presentations. It's the quiet breakdown of identity. People aren't just a role. They're part of a team or a tribe. They build shared language and trust. When the company constantly changes its structure, those connections are destroyed.
You spend months learning how your team works, building trust, and getting to know your partners. This is how you get things done. Then, the team is shuffled. The network you built is gone, and your place at the company feels unstable.
Suddenly, you're not just learning new systems; you're proving your value and purpose all over again to a new group of people. The energy this takes is never shown on a spreadsheet.
We assume that constantly changing things is better than sustained focus and deep expertise. But this feels less like smart growth and more like a nervous tic, a constant movement to avoid predictability.
We're told to be flexible, and we are. But there's a big difference between being genuinely flexible and constantly drifting. It's hard to build anything that lasts when you're always re-orienting yourself.
The irony is, in chasing an unobtainable perfection, we end up making instability the only thing that's stable.