You’re forcing it

I gave a talk last week to a group of leaders in tech about the Five Traps we fall into when we’re moving really fast — and some of what came up from the audience was too good not to share. (This might unfold over multiple newsletters).

So, here we go…

Trap #2. Forcing.

Forcing is what happens when we’re moving fast and get more and more direct about what needs to happen. It’s not intentional. But it makes it feel like the metric matters more than the relationship responsible for delivering it.

It sounds like:

We need this done.

We’re changing direction.

This is the new priority.

I need you to…

We need to move faster.

Just get it over the line.

Because I said so.

None of those sentences are inherently bad. (Some are worse than others… but that’s not the point.) Sometimes direct is necessary.

But.

There’s a difference between moving with urgency and making everyone else absorb your urgency — and translate it — because you were too busy to take two minutes.

That’s forcing.

It feels like a transaction. And ironically, it stops action in its tracks.

I don’t need to tell you this happens CONSTANTLY inside fast-growing companies.

Priorities change. Sure, sometimes they should.

Maybe you’re testing, learning, hunting for product-market fit. Maybe a customer changes something, the market tells you something or the board tells you something. Maybe the thing you thought would work… doesn’t.

Changing the priority isn’t the problem.

Changing the priority without bringing people with you is.

Example #1

Someone raised their hand and said: “I definitely fall into the trap of forcing. But do people really need to know the whole story? That’s wasting their time. I just need them to make the change and keep moving.”

Valid question.

But honestly? If you employ humans and not robots, sharing context is never not helpful.

Put yourself in their shoes:

You’ve spent three weeks on something. You’ve reorganized your calendar around it. You’ve said no to other things because your leader told you this was the priority. You’re proud of the work. You’re getting somewhere.

Then Tuesday morning: “We’re not doing that anymore. This is the priority now.”

Okay. But… Why?

What changed? What did we learn? Was the work I just did wrong? Does it still matter? Do I still matter? Is this one going to change next week, too? Should I actually commit to this?

(Finish that downward spiral in your own mind.)

That last question is where leaders should pay attention.

Because when priorities repeatedly change without explanation, people eventually learn something:

Don’t trust the priority. Don’t give it everything. Don’t reorganize around it. Wait. See if this one sticks.

And poof. Congratulations. You now have a trust problem.

Because how can we trust you if we don’t understand what’s happening? If we aren’t in the loop? If we can’t make sense of the changes, and the reason for them? If we’re just told to follow orders?

That’s not trust. That’s compliance. And compliance is not what driven, competent people respond to. It’s not what they signed up for.

But it gets worse. Because here’s what you’re actually asking:

Follow orders without question when it’s convenient for me, while I flip priorities like hotcakes… but also have original ideas. Innovate. Share information. Take ownership.

So: think for yourselves. Sometimes. Other times, just do as we say.

How is that congruent?

It isn’t. And this is why transparency — and Rapport, the R in BRAVE — matters so much.

Because with total unpredictability and no reason to give certainty or logical explanation, the brain goes into self protection mode.

A quick word on “radical transparency”

I hear this too much.

If your company says it values radical transparency, but say… your executives’ calendars are private while everyone else’s aren’t… if decisions are made behind closed doors and only the decree gets shared, never the discussion… you’re nowhere near radically transparent. Please know that…

I helped a company roll out full pay transparency. FULL. Meaning for everyone in the company, CEO through the newest hire. They have made transparency (even the toughest kind) a priority. And they’ve made the Inc 5000 list 17 times. So please don’t tell me that conversations and transparency slows you down.

And, no, you don’t have to share everything to be transparent. But if a value is conditional — if it’s only radical when it works for the executive team — it’s not a value. And it’s breaking trust constantly from behind the scenes. Save everyone the head fake, the headache, and mostly the heartache. Please…

Capeesh?

So one more time, here’s what the most basic version of transparency actually means:

If I’m asking you to absorb the consequences of a decision, I owe you enough context to understand it.

And that context, that care, that builds rapport.

The R in The BRAVE Framework® is Rapport: putting the relationship before the metric. Not instead of the metric. Before it.

Because the relationship is what makes the metric possible. It’s what makes the relationship strong enough to absorb the stress, the stakes, the consequences. It’s what makes the person creating the result want to rise.

And this is where leaders get rapport completely wrong.

They think rapport is “How was your weekend?” Banter before getting down to business.

It’s not.

It’s: “You were worried about speaking at your brother’s wedding this weekend. How did it go?”

It’s remembering what was said in the small talk, the elevator, the side channel. It’s making continuous deposits into the relationship trust account.

Rapport is: “I know you spent 20 hours on this, and I’m about to change the priority. Here’s why.”

It’s: “I’ve got your back. What do you need from me to get this done?”

It’s: “I don’t have the answer yet, but here’s what I know.”

It’s: “This deadline isn’t changing, so let’s talk about what comes off your plate to make it possible.”

Rapport is communicating: I see the human who has to carry the thing I’m asking for. And I can take the second to consider the human, not just the outcome I want.

That’s what makes trust compound.

That’s what makes people share information, truly collaborate, go out on a limb — because they know the trust account has the reserves to back them up.

Example #2

At that same talk, a leader raised her hand and asked whether it was “cheating” to write down things her team told her so she could remember them later. She was afraid that she wasn’t really building rapport because it didn’t look “perfect.”

“There’s no way I’m going to remember everything,” she said.

I almost laughed. Holy impossible standards! And the room erupted.

Because that’s absolutely not cheating.

That’s caring enough to build a system around your limitations. Hi, we’re human, remember?

You don’t remember that someone’s daughter had a dance recital because you have magical leadership memory. You write it down because it mattered to them — so you’ve decided it matters enough to you not to forget.

That’s rapport.

And here’s why this matters so much in a company moving at speed:

People who feel relationally supported can absorb an extraordinary amount of change.

They can pivot. They can hear hard feedback. They can recover from misses. They can take bigger swings. They can disagree. They can sprint when sprinting is actually required.

Because they don’t have to spend energy figuring out: Do I trust these people? Do they see me? Does someone have my back? Does my work actually matter?

That’s expensive cognitive load. And it slows you down, big time.

When leaders don’t learn to create trust through conversation, on purpose, people start protecting themselves from the uncertainty.

They hedge. They wait. They do exactly what they’re told instead of taking ownership. They retreat into silos and protect their lane. They stop sharing information — because information will either step on toes, get them in trouble, or become the leverage they need to fend for themselves.

There’s no trust account to keep them afloat if they falter.

And then leadership looks around and asks:

Why isn’t everyone moving faster?

Because you’re forcing speed instead of creating the conditions for it.

That’s the paradox.

The relationship isn’t slowing down the work. The relationship is what allows the work to move fast.

So the next time you’re about to change a priority, push a deadline, kill a project, redirect someone’s work or ask a team to sprint:

Don’t just communicate what changed. Give them the why. Acknowledge what the change costs them — even if it’s just frustration. Tell them what you know. Tell them what you don’t. Give them enough context to make sense of the decision.

It might take you two minutes.

Those two minutes aren’t inefficiency. They’re the price of trust.

And trust is what lets you move fast without having to force anyone to follow.

Rooting for you,

Elisabeth

P.S. If you’d like to learn about, support or engage with BRAVE:

• My dance card for longer term corporate work is full for a bit, but I’d love to host a workshop for your team to help you see and shift how speed negatively impacts the way we interact, and leads to more fire drills, slipping standards and lower morale,

• If you're looking to elevate your confidence or capacity for leading through uncertainty, get more info here to join our next How to Talk to Humans bootcamp in October or 2027.

• I’m starting a new Instagram account with quick actionable culture and leadership advice. Come say hi here! @bravebyelisabeth