A familiar tremor goes through the room, not an earthquake, but the collective sigh of a thousand internal monologues starting up at once. It’s the kind of tremor you feel in your teeth, like when you’re about to have a hiccup but it never quite breaks free. A fresh-faced executive, still damp from their last onboarding, stands before a projected kaleidoscope of new boxes and arrows, explaining how *this* re-organization will finally unlock synergies, streamline processes, and empower us all to be more agile. My eye scans the new lines, the dotted promises, and the newly minted titles, knowing full well what’s coming: another round of musical chairs where the music stops, a few people are left standing awkwardly, and absolutely nothing that truly matters will fundamentally change.
The Cycle of Change (and Stasis)
It’s not a cynical outlook; it’s an experienced one. This is the 6th such upheaval I’ve witnessed in my 16 years here. Each time, the narrative is the same: a new leader arrives, sees a perceived mess, and decides the best way to clean it up is to shake the entire bottle. It’s never about the actual problems – the outdated legacy systems, the entrenched fiefdoms, the product lines that stopped being relevant 26 months ago. No, it’s about a new executive asserting dominance, consolidating power, and creating the illusion of decisive action. They rearrange the deck chairs, declare victory, and then move on, leaving the rest of



































