• I’ve been reading Marshall Goldsmith’s What Got You Here Won’t Get You There — a brilliant book about the behaviours that shape a fulfilling life. It’s not an easy read in the sense that it cuts close to the bone. I recognised myself in many of the 20 habits that hold people back: speaking when angry, starting with “no” or “but,” and adding too much value (coaching football being a classic example!).

    The Habits That Hold Us Back

    Goldsmith argues that what got you to where you are today may not take you to the next stage. For me, listening has always been a project. I take it seriously, treat it as a discipline, and subject it to continuous improvement. That doesn’t mean I always get it right. (Just ask my wife.)

    The Power of Saying Sorry

    Another theme that resonated deeply was the act of saying sorry. Goldsmith highlights how much hinges on our ability to acknowledge when we are wrong — without excuses, without conditions. It’s one of the most human things we can do. And people can always sense when an apology is insincere.

    A Hard Lesson

    Years ago, I made what I thought was a clever move. I asked a colleague’s friend a couple of questions, hoping to gain insight into how I might improve my “poor” relationship with that colleague. In reality, it was a remarkably naïve decision. The friend told them, and the already rocky relationship deteriorated further.

    The situation escalated quickly and ended in mediation with our big boss. I was asked to apologise. I did — but without truly understanding the hurt I had caused. Our relationship never recovered. And it didn’t recover because my apology wasn’t sincere.

    Listening Before Apologising

    The lesson was clear. Apologies are only powerful when they are accompanied by a genuine effort to understand the hurt you’ve caused. That can only happen after you’ve listened with intent. Without that, “sorry” is just a word.

    Moving Forward

    In my working life, I’ve received very few apologies. I’ve given many — and I likely owe more. But I know this: a genuine, well-crafted sorry doesn’t weaken you. It moves you — and those around you — forward.

  • Learning as a Student

    I regularly reflect on my time as a social work student in the early 1990s. It was a wonderful period of learning and discovery. The course was groundbreaking in its use of experimental ways of learning—placements, reflective journalling, guest speakers, and video recording of group work.

    Tony Vinson’s work in Wilful Obstruction—his experiences as the Corrective Services Commissioner—is a great case study into change and transition in the NSW Public Sector. Vinson’s work as a change leader and prison reformer was decades ahead of its time.

    The key takeaway from the course was the need to link the individual or group to the broader system. This approach provided a framework to guide interactions in both a group and individual context. It also worked in reverse, informing the social worker about the nature of the interaction they were having with the individual or group in context. It seems very simple, but at the time it was a great innovation.


    Discovering Virginia Satir

    In all my time as a social worker, I had not heard of Virginia Satir. That may have had something to do with a bias towards British and European social theory. I came across the Satir model through the Lean Change network and by reading Gerry Weinberg. Daryl Conner has also mentioned the huge influence Virginia Satir had on his career in change management. This is unsurprising, because social work is built on supporting individuals and small groups as they navigate complex systems.


    The Satir Change Model Explained

    The Satir model consists of three distinct phases: late-stage status quo, chaos, and new status quo. Each phase is bounded by events.

    Late-stage status quo is disrupted by a foreign element—an event that either forces the system into chaos or prompts an attempt to return to the old ways of operating. Chaos is a challenging period where energy and output are often low, because the system is searching for a new way of coping or working.

    Experimentation is crucial during this time. It is through experimentation that an innovating idea emerges, propelling the system forward into a new status quo.


    My Personal Connection

    Personally, the Satir model resonates with me. The family dynamics I grew up in bounced around in late-stage status quo for many years before the foreign element of my father’s job loss plunged the family into chaos and, ultimately, over time into a new status quo. More recently, my journey from salaried employee to change consultant has loosely followed the Satir change curve.


    Applying the Model in Practice

    This week I used the Satir model in two facilitated workshops.

    In the first, with a start-up, I used the model to support the organisation to develop a unifying story from individual stories of late-stage status quo and chaos. Following the Satir model in our storytelling delivered some profound—and galvanising—insights into the innovative idea at the heart of this company.

    In the second workshop, the model was used to help the organisation understand both individual and group responses to change. This more descriptive journey of the change curve, and the power of experimentation during chaos, provided the participants with many light-bulb moments.


    Closing Reflection

    The versatility and efficacy of this model is profound because it is steeped in thousands of personal and group stories. It remains one of the most human and practical frameworks I’ve ever used in guiding change.

  • Reflections inspired by Ken Rickard and Jason Little

    This chapter is emerging as one of my favourites, as it captures the balance required to be an effective change agent.

    Last week, I met with a mentor who suggested I’m more of an artist than a scientist. Her reflection helped me realise that my change practice is deeply grounded in years of experience and shaped by a strong identity as a social worker. I tend to prioritise people and the systems they operate in as my primary frame of reference.

    That conversation stayed with me as I read this chapter. It prompted me to reconsider how I see myself in the field. The truth is — I value science too. I’m drawn to frameworks and big ideas. Tools are not lost on me either.

    So the question became: how have I shown up in practice?

    Most recently, I was involved in a large-scale organisational transformation that significantly impacted many employees — people either lost their jobs or had their roles fundamentally altered.

    I entered that project as an artist. I brought with me a strong sense of self, built through years of service in the public sector. I could anticipate what people were about to feel. This came from a worldview shaped by my social work background — one centred on social justice, the dignity of work, and co-design principles.

    And yet, I also understood the political imperatives. I could see the broader drivers behind the change and the implications for individuals navigating their own transitions.

    Where I came unstuck was in reconciling my values with the direction set by the program director. The change management approach lacked coherence — lurching from one model or trend to the next. Capability was seen as a matter of certification, not practice. Authentic conversations were rare. The work of change was reduced to superficial tools and templates.

    This was a shame, given the very real, life-altering consequences for people affected by the program.

    Not all change can be transparent. Some will be shrouded in secrecy and have adverse impacts. But that doesn’t mean we can’t bring both art and science to our practice. If anything, it makes it more important.

    What it asks of us is to be authentic about our approach to change — to choose the right dimension for the right context, and to honour both the human and systemic aspects of transition.

    Like most things, it boils down to balancing art and science against the context you are working in.


    How can I help you and your business?

    If you’re navigating complex change, I can support your organisation by bringing both the art and science of change into balance.

    Here’s how I work with clients:

    • Act as a trusted advisor to leaders, offering guidance grounded in the Four Dimensions of Change — people, systems, tools, and strategy.
    • Facilitate workshops that align leaders and employees around a shared approach to change that feels both grounded and workable.
    • Host regular check-in sessions to track alignment and coherence — making sure your strategy remains connected to real-world experience.
    • Introduce tools that are appropriate to your context — not overwhelming, but useful and usable.
    • Draw on theory that clarifies rather than complicates — frameworks that guide, not intimidate.
    • Conduct change impact assessments that generate data to inform how best to apply and balance the four dimensions.

    If you’re seeking support to lead meaningful, people-centred change — I’d be glad to talk.

  • 12 Tools for Managing a Selfish Leader: Unlocking Authenticity for Resilience
    Josefine Campbell (2024)

    The book follows the story of Marie as she navigates life under a selfish leader, Martin. His behaviour leads to a serious incident, requiring the support of an executive coach, Caroline (presumably the author). The book then charts Marie’s journey with Caroline, applying 12 tools (though I counted 11) at various stages to support her successful management of Martin over the final 18 months of her tenure.

    The recurring themes in Caroline’s interventions include: managing energy levels, identifying personal values, and drawing links between past and present triggers. Like all great coaches, Caroline helps Marie rise above the situation by taking a long-term view.


    Selfish Leaders Drain Energy

    It quickly becomes clear that Martin is an unpleasant and draining leader. His treatment of Marie—and her predecessor—is poor. He’s unable to engage with Marie as his direct report, resorting to pedantry and micromanagement to assert his authority. His own manager, Alfred, while superficially pleasant, is complicit by tolerating Martin’s behaviour.

    A critical meeting between Marie, Martin, and Alfred serves as a breaking point for Marie. Her energy is fully depleted. Caroline expertly guides her through this energy crisis, helping her identify stress signals and acknowledge her fragile mental state.

    At this early stage, Caroline takes great care not to overload or overstimulate. Identification and recovery are the priorities. One of the most telling tools here is the “stress timeline,” used to chart how Marie has been coping throughout her time at the company.

    When I reflected on my own timeline—during a period I worked under selfish leaders—I was struck by how long I endured heightened stress and anxiety. It felt like a slow march toward chronic illness or burnout.


    Values: Selfish Leaders Know Where to Hit

    Marie comes to see that she assumes too much responsibility—something rooted in her childhood, where she cared for her siblings in the emotional absence of her mother. Martin targets this sense of responsibility by constantly criticising detail. He knows it will hurt. His attacks not only confuse and distress her, but also clash with her core values, draining her energy further.

    I recognised myself in this. I’m someone who values integrity, sensitivity to others, and a love of learning. I’ve had managers (both men and women) diminish these traits—questioning the importance of people skills or placing me in high-risk situations with colleagues. I’ve lost energy working under leaders who don’t value integrity or who block growth and learning.

    Caroline’s approach is smart. She works with Marie to develop boundaries around these traits—especially the need to take responsibility for everything, including her team. Practically, this meant deflecting Martin’s pointed criticism and stepping back from overprotecting her direct reports.


    We All Need Boundaries

    Caroline uses a model of three circles to show the types of boundaries needed to manage the relationship with Martin. The third-circle arrangement—where the circles just touch—symbolises professional distance and independence. Dialogue still occurs, but it’s limited to what’s necessary to get work done.

    Caroline discusses this concept in a joint session with both Martin and Marie, gaining agreement on how the circles should function. This scene, along with an earlier one, gives insight into the organisation’s processes. Caroline was brought in by People and Culture to solve a problem, and Martin was involved at key points. He was asked—twice—to respect Marie’s boundaries. And it appeared binding.

    What struck me was the way the process was respected—as something legitimate and necessary for restoring Marie’s wellbeing, without attacking Martin directly.


    Marie Steps Into Herself

    Marie emerges from her coaching experience as a much more authentic leader. She understands her values, her vulnerabilities, and maintains clearer boundaries with Martin. These changes give her the strength to continue in the role a while longer—a sign of real growth.

    Her development is on full display during a team-building day, where elements of Caroline’s work are introduced. One popular activity involves identifying which tasks give or drain energy. This leads to the use of the “power barometer”—a tool to help monitor energy levels.

    The day is a resounding success and a testament to Marie’s growth. In contrast, Martin reveals his lack of development, making dismissive remarks about coaching and team building as “not real work.”

    Twelve months later, Marie leaves the company for a new role. She exits with high regard and self-awareness. She’s no longer naïve—during a follow-up with Caroline, she reports working under another selfish leader. But this time, she’s better equipped. A reminder that these people are everywhere—and we must prepare accordingly.


    Concluding Reflections

    This is an excellent book, packed with practical tools I can use in my own consultancy.

    I was particularly impressed by Caroline’s ability to take a longitudinal view—helping Marie understand how energy levels and emotional triggers played out over time. It was this perspective that helped Marie confront the situation and grow from it. It also reinforced for me the value of journaling—tracking highs and lows to better understand performance and wellbeing.

    The work around values was also powerful—especially the idea of making them non-negotiable.

    Understanding how our childhoods shape our professional behaviours was another impactful insight. I spent some time reflecting on how my own family experience still influences how I respond at work. What might a selfish leader see in me? How could they exploit that?

    While not explicit in the book, a podcast with the author underscored one final point: when dealing with selfish leaders, secrecy matters. Don’t share your personal life. Don’t reveal what you value most. These details can be used against you—draining your energy and leaving you vulnerable.

  • The three agilities of change are one of the Six Big Ideas of Adaptive Organisations. Without attempting a full review of the excellent book by Ken Rickard and Jason Little, I want to reflect on my experience as a senior change leader in a small government organisation.

    Without knowing it at the time, I attempted to commit the organisation to becoming more agile in its leadership, delivery, and change. I called this effort modernisation. It was not successful—due in large part to the cultural and capability constraints of the organisation, as well as my own overestimation of my capacity to develop the three agilities of change. This reflection highlights how critical it is to assess these domains before attempting any significant transformation.


    Leadership Agility

    Leadership agility is the “ability of people (regardless of position or function) to develop themselves, both consciously and competently, in ways that make information widely available” and to distribute decision-making in dynamic environments.

    While I may have demonstrated some leadership agility myself—as an Assistant Director and lifelong learner—it was not evident across the agency.

    The organisation operated within a deeply hierarchical structure where control of decision-making and leadership development was tightly held. Development was linked more to tenure and passive observation of senior leaders than to any formal process. Early in my tenure, I proposed a leadership development course through Human Resources. This was interpreted by peers as a critique of their leadership style. They successfully lobbied my manager to ask me to drop the proposal.

    Over five years, my efforts to build leadership agility were limited. The most tangible result was engaging an external provider to deliver training on critical reflection and supervision. The sessions were met with scepticism, poorly attended, and undermined by influential senior leaders.

    Ultimately, the organisation was unable to exercise effective leadership in the face of existential threats brought on by changes in government policy. With static leadership capabilities, the agency struggled to manage its increasing workload—resulting in declining employee engagement and well-being, and lower quality outcomes for stakeholders.


    Change Agility

    The absence of leadership agility directly impacted the organisation’s change agility. The strain of an unmanageable workload became a growing risk to the organisation’s health. Strategies were developed to address the problem, particularly through work practice optimisation.

    This included attempts to slow the inflow of work using available resources and internal knowledge. Dedicated teams were funded to take on this task. Although these teams were initially effective, they soon encountered resistance. Senior managers pressured them to revert to old patterns of work.

    What began as an opportunity to explore new ways of working was eventually absorbed back into the dominant culture. Although the teams still exist, they function largely within the same mindset. Change agility remained limited. Efforts to adapt to a rapidly evolving context were routinely met with resistance—first by management, and then by staff.

    Change itself was viewed as a threat to the hierarchy and the decision-making power it protected. As a result, the only ‘solutions’ to increasing workload were requests for more funding to continue doing more of the same.


    Delivery Agility

    Some of the tangible elements of modernisation included:

    • the rollout of laptops,
    • support for remote and flexible work,
    • a new client database,
    • a project to map and capture legacy data, and
    • the consolidation of IT into the broader agency structure.

    Each initiative faced resistance—initially from management, then from employees who had originally welcomed the changes. I was told, both directly and indirectly, that staff had been pressured by managers not to participate. This made setting up change champion networks very difficult, and momentum stalled.

    Attempts to re-engage staff through executive sponsorship—especially through directive leadership—had the opposite effect. It deepened disengagement and reinforced a pattern of compliance over collaboration.


    Conclusion

    This organisation lacked maturity across the three critical domains: leadership, change, and delivery agility. The result was an organisation locked into outdated patterns, unable to generate sustainable or innovative responses to pressing challenges.

    This affected everyone—employees, clients, and service partners. My key failing was in misjudging the readiness of the organisation. I did not adequately assess whether the conditions were right for the type of transformation I was driving. Without this understanding, I committed far too many personal resources to change that, in the end, only partially stuck.


  • Defining Value in Consulting

    In consulting, all help must be defined by value—not value to the consultant, but value to the client.

    Value is what people are willing to pay for. The key to understanding value lies in listening carefully to the client’s own perception of the problem. How are they framing the issue? What do they believe the implications are for their business? How do they frame a future where the problem has been solved?

    Understanding their answers is the first step toward co-creating meaningful, high-impact solutions.


    Starting Questions

    These questions are designed to open a genuine, value-based conversation with your client:


    🔍 Understanding the Problem

    1. Tell me more about your understanding of this problem.
    2. What are the implications of this problem for your business?
    3. What are your employees telling you about this issue?
    4. If I joined your organisation tomorrow, would I notice this problem?
    5. Has this issue surfaced before? If so, what was different then?
    6. Who else in the organisation is most affected by this problem?
    7. Is there anything else I need to know about this challenge?

    💡 Previous Actions and Current State

    1. What actions have you already taken to address it?
    2. What external help have you sought previously?
    3. What kind of support do you think you’d need moving forward?

    🎯 Impact and Urgency

    1. What would success look like if this problem were resolved?
    2. How is this problem affecting your bottom line, culture, or reputation?
    3. On a scale of 1–10, how urgent is this issue to solve? Why now?
    4. What’s the cost of doing nothing?

    🧭 Organisational Context

    1. What other initiatives might be competing for attention or resources?
    2. Are there any internal politics or sensitivities I should be aware of?
    3. What does leadership think about this issue? Are they aligned?

    🤝 Co-Creation and Commitment

    1. How involved do you want to be in developing the solution?
    2. What concerns do you have about bringing in external help?
    3. What would help you build your internal capacity to address problems like this in the future?

  • I recently finished reading A Day Makes the Year (Makes the Life) by Doug Fleener. This book was profound in its simplicity and inspiration. Borne of his recovery from drugs and alcohol 37 years ago, Fleener outlines daily productivity hacks across six key themes:

    • The day
    • Responsibility
    • Intentionality
    • Practicing relentless simplicity
    • Giving to get
    • Daily improvement

    Whether it’s in my running, coaching, football or professional work, I’ve always been drawn to discipline and performance. Yet I’ve never quite managed to embed high-performance behaviours over the long term. I’m 80% of the way there, but often find myself stuck in static routines rather than a cycle of continuous improvement.

    This book offered clues for breaking through that ceiling. Starting a consultancy has demanded immense self-control, and Fleener’s reflections provide a practical guide to the discipline required to build a business. Here are some thoughts that resonated with me:


    Frame It as the Day

    Framing your life through the prism of the day is a powerful shift. When you’re no longer working in structured employment, blocks of unstructured time can be daunting. Stacking unproductive days together without intention or measurable results can negatively impact confidence.

    Now, I start each morning by setting up my day in a journal—writing down the type of person I want to be as a consultant, father, and partner. I layer in the other principles: intentionality, responsibility, simplicity, and kindness. This daily frame has been a game changer.


    Taking Responsibility

    I’ve always taken responsibility for my actions—but resentment and victimhood have at times held me back. A particular experience in my public sector career dimmed my flame and blocked my career aspirations. While I pivoted my skillset successfully, I struggled to forgive and forget.

    My progress as a consultant now depends on anchoring myself in the present—where those past people and events are irrelevant. True responsibility includes letting go of what no longer serves you.


    Intentional Actions

    Building a consultancy requires purposeful activity: content creation, marketing, learning, writing. At the same time, relationships with those I love require intentional care.

    In the past, I might record “visit Mum” in my diary. I’d do it, but without connecting it to a broader sense of who I want to be. Now, I frame that visit as time to be a better son. This shift helps me show up more fully and meaningfully.


    Practice Relentless Simplicity

    Much of my career in the NSW public sector was clouded by unnecessary complexity—not true complexity, but the kind that’s mistaken for sophistication.

    Manufactured complexity is a drag on high performance. Practicing simplicity means asking:

    • What are we really trying to achieve?
    • What’s the point of this meeting?
    • How can I explain this clearly and simply?

    Relentless simplicity is deeply human—and powerful. It reflects real intelligence, and people appreciate it.


    Improve Things Daily

    There’s a strong link between change management and continuous improvement. The Japanese industrial miracle (1950–1970) was built on this principle—change at the site, by the worker. That means you and me are best placed to drive our own improvement.

    Fleener talks about “streaks”—small daily wins that build momentum. I’ve been tracking my running over the past few months, logging times and heart rate. I’ve now run two courses a combined 105 times—about five to six times per week. Seeing this record in my journal is a huge motivator.

    I’m also experimenting with time management by chunking work into focused 50-minute blocks. Another streak in the making.


    Giving to Get

    I devote five to ten hours each week to volunteer as a football coach. There’s no financial reward, but it brings immense personal and professional returns. I’m known in my community as a builder of people, mentor, and coach.

    This work has sharpened my professional identity, shaped my elevator pitch, and even informed my service offerings. It’s also made everyday acts of giving—coffee for my partner, support for colleagues, time with friends—more natural and fulfilling.


    The Journal as a Tool for Growth

    Fleener emphasizes journaling—morning and night. In the morning, you frame your intentions for the day. In the evening, you reflect:

    • Did I act on my intentions?
    • Am I better today than yesterday?
    • How can I improve tomorrow?

    This simple ritual has a powerful compound effect. Over time, the journal becomes both a mirror and a map.


    How I Can Help

    As a coach, consultant, and change practitioner, I work with people and organisations to embed high-performance behaviours, simplify complexity, and reframe change as opportunity. Whether you’re leading a team or leading yourself, I’d love to support your journey.

    Let’s have a conversation.

  • The five waves of transformative change by Ken Rickard and Jason Little is probably the most accurate of change models because it aligns closely with my experience as a change manager. The model describes a progression from surface-level, compliance-driven change (waves one and two), through deeper engagement and mindset shift (waves three and four), to fully integrated transformation (wave five).

    All the organisational changes I have worked with have been caught by the change sharks sitting beneath wave two. They were trapped in a superficial space where nothing moves on. Here, very little enduring capability is built beyond the implementation of a new database or process.

    More broadly, the superficial approach to change seen in waves one and two is the cause of so much disillusionment we see today with leadership and change. Scratch the surface and most people can tell a tale of a change where the leadership delegated the change to experts, who dealt with resistance and implemented the tangible aspects—the layoffs, the new database, the new way of working. The only problem was that people were not really part of the deal.

    The Role of Leaders in Getting Beyond the Superficial

    Leaders have to lead, demonstrating more sophisticated leadership skills involving vision, influence, and vulnerability. As Piers Fallowfield-Cooper says, “the person with the greatest outer flexibility will always win; they will respond appropriately to a VUCA environment.”

    In the realm of waves three, four, and five, the leader does not delegate the change leadership to experts. Instead, experts become trusted advisors to higher-order leadership skills.

    1. Not leading with the ego – Developing a circumspect relationship with the ego allows the change leader to avoid a litany of small battles about control. Battles that are a distraction.
    2. Leader as facilitator – As Peter Block says, leadership should avoid the battle with resistance in favour of intentionally setting their own example of what change looks like in daily behaviour.
    3. Setting the vision – Rather than relying on planning and control, the leader focuses on presenting a compelling vision of what good looks like. What is the symbol of success?
    4. Building trust – Prioritising trust with employees is essential for moving beyond superficial thinking. Trust supports feedback, and feedback guides successful change.

    Conclusion

    In my experience, the real work of change doesn’t begin until we move beyond the surface. Until leaders are willing to do more than sponsor a program or approve a rollout, change remains stuck—circling endlessly in waves one and two.

    The organisations that find their way to deeper transformation are the ones where leaders show up differently. They don’t hide behind frameworks or delegate the hard parts. They lead with presence, with curiosity, and with an openness to being changed themselves.

    Getting beyond the superficial isn’t easy. But it’s the only path to meaningful, lasting change—and it always starts at the top.

    How I help?

    I work with organisations and leaders to:

    • Diagnose where change is stuck (e.g. Waves 1–2)
    • Build leadership capability for deeper change
    • Facilitate transitions beyond the superficial
    • Coach leaders to lead change with clarity, courage, and trust

    DM me if you want to talk about how to move your change beyond the surface.

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