Ah, LinkedIn. That digital wasteland of humble brags, self-proclaimed thought leaders, and enough buzzwords to make a bingo card blush. Among my thousands of connections, you’ll find a veritable zoo of corporate creatures (I trained my brain to not pay attention to those):
- The Certificate Collectors: Those proud peacocks flashing their “telling-me-nothing” certifications like they’re Olympic medals.
- The Oversharing Oversharers: You know, the “Today, I ate a sandwich. #blessed #leadership #disruption” type.
- The Corporate Royalty: Those high-and-mighty executives whose every mundane utterance gets thousands of reactions. Why? Because nothing says career advancement like digitally kissing ass of someone who might remember your name someday.
Three strikes and you’re out. I clean these pests from my feed regularly because, as they say,
“You are what you eat, you think what you read.”
But sometimes, amidst this sea of digital noise, you stumble upon a gem. A post so on-the-nose, that you have to screenshot it for posterity. Many Tom Goodwin’s post are just those gems. I save them as #hankka drafts, waiting for the right moment when I get the right mix of conflicting / strong emotions in me, to write something meaningful.
In fact, many artists have created their most powerful works during periods of intense emotional turmoil. Profound experiences of love, heartbreak, grief, or euphoria have often served as catalysts for birthing their masterpieces.
My primary school diary seems to confirm this rule. I wrote the most when I was madly in love with a boy a few grades older than me who didn’t see me, or when I wondered why Brian from Backstreet Boys lives so far away from Poland. Move over, Shakespeare. There’s a new bard in town armed with glitter pens for dramatic declarations of undying, Anteros love.
Ok, but I’m digressing again. Sorry not sorry. You needed to know my once love for Backstreet Boys and nSync. Besides, with the latest Deadpool and Wolverine, they became cool again 😅.
Now, back to the serious stuff – corporate inefficiency.
No decision is, in itself, a decision
Today is that day I dug Tom’s post screenshot. Why? Because yesterday I dragged myself out of yet another “death by slow maybe” meeting. You know, a dozen highly paid people sitting around a table, using big words to say absolutely nothing, deciding not to decide, and calling it a productive meeting. This series of meetings to decide whether to decide is not just annoying as f* – it’s expensive. When you factor in the salaries of everyone involved, the opportunity cost of their time, and the potential value of the innovation being discussed, suddenly that “safe” approach doesn’t look so cheap anymore. Indecision, it turns out, can cost far more than decisive action.
I often get the feeling that for many corporates (public sector is not much different), “efficiency” is the buzzword du jour. But let’s be honest – what many corporations call efficiency is often just elaborately disguised risk avoidance. True efficiency involves calculated risks and embracing innovation. Risking being fired for not hiring IBM and going for something different or (dare you not!) never tried before.
Instead, you see a paradox, where the very actions taken to avoid risk end up increasing inefficiency, stifling growth and missing crucial opportunities.
I call it the “innovation theatre.”
You know the drill: attending startup pitch meetings or even actively seeking for such yourself, nodding thoughtfully, and ticking the “innovation search” box. But no matter how such boxes you tick, sitting through presentations isn’t innovation. It’s a corporate comfort blanket that provides the illusion of progress without the messy business of actually changing anything. Real innovation requires commitment, resources, and the courage to upend the status quo.
As my dear colleague A wisely puts it:
Goodwill has to be paid for at some point so use it wisely.
It’s them, not me.
Raise your hand if you’ve ever been caught the following: stalling decisions, ghosting after initial interest, endless meetings without outcomes, and the ever-elusive budget for innovation. Each of these “sins” is a missed opportunity, a potential game-changer left on the table.
You’re either in, or you’re out. There is no middle ground.
While you’re collecting a paycheck to warm chairs in meetings you’ve mentally checked out of before even entering, we’re in a constant fight for survival, craving real action. It’s rare to find opportunities where you can get so much bang for your buck and earn a gold star and a pat on your back from the C-suite when things pan out.
While a startup can pivot and implement new ideas in weeks, corporations often take months just to schedule the right meetings. This disconnect isn’t just frustrating – it’s causing startups to view corporate partnerships as appealing as a root canal without anaesthesia.
Take calculated risks
If you’re a corporate reading this, think about the cost to your own career. While you’re playing it safe, market opportunities are slipping by. Your most innovative talent? They’re eyeing the exit, drawn to competitors who aren’t afraid to take chances.
Remember, your reputation follows you. If you make smart, decisive moves that benefit your company, people will notice and remember. (And it’s not so hard to stand out when everybody is stalling).
Ok, so how do you actually do this?
Start by becoming an internal champion for innovation. Learn to navigate the bureaucracy, not by avoiding it, but by finding creative ways through it. Read Spin Selling by Neil Rackham (Everything in life is sales! You either sell or being sold to!) and Power Base Selling by Holden and Kubacki (How to identify decision makers and influencers within an organisation) to understand whose blessing should you have on your side within corporation, for any such ‘risky’ project to take off and be successfully completed.
Tech is never a problem. People’s resistance to change and risk avoidance is.
Quick decisions, even imperfect ones, compound advantages like interest (and for the good part, most decisions are reversible, anyway).
Embracing startup innovations isn’t just about cool new tech; it’s about not becoming the next Blockbuster. It demands leadership that gets the difference between recklessness and calculated boldness. You become known as a company that actually does things, not just talks about them.
So go ahead, continue with business as usual and risk obsolescence faster than
Clubhouse discussion app (anybody remembers it?)… or you can embrace the discomfort of change and lead the charge into the future.
Which side of history do you want to be on?