How do you lead people through a change they didn't choose?
Published by Corso & Alexander · About David Luria
You lead people through a change they did not choose by treating their reaction as legitimate rather than as resistance to be crushed. Give them an honest reason, a say in how it happens where you can, the skills to succeed at the new way, and time to grieve the old one. The change is an event you can announce in a morning. The transition people make to accept it is an inner process that takes far longer, and it is the transition, not the announcement, that decides whether the change sticks.
Most change is imposed. A merger, a new system, a reorganisation, a shift in strategy: almost none of it is put to a vote. The skill of leading it well is not pretending people chose it. It is helping people who did not choose it come to terms with it, which is a different and more human task.
Why does imposed change meet so much resistance?
Because people are not resisting the change so much as grieving what it takes away, and grief looks like resistance to anyone who is not paying attention. A familiar way of working carries competence, status, relationships and a sense of being good at your job. A change threatens all of that at once, and the threat is real even when the change is right.
The word resistance is part of the problem. It frames the people going through the change as obstacles, which invites leaders to push harder, which deepens the very reaction they are trying to overcome. A team that feels pushed digs in. A team that feels heard moves.
The first shift a leader can make is in their own head: to stop reading a difficult reaction as defiance and start reading it as loss. The person complaining loudest is often the person who cared most about the old way and did it best. Lose them and you lose your strongest people. Reach them and they become your most credible advocates, because everyone knows they were sceptical first.
What is the difference between change and transition?
This distinction, drawn by William Bridges, is the single most useful idea in the field, and most failed change efforts have ignored it. Change is external. Transition is internal.
As the Bridges transition model puts it, change is the external event, the new strategy or leadership or merged organisation, while transition is the inner psychological process people go through as they come to terms with the new situation. Change can happen in an instant. Transition cannot be rushed, because it is the slow work of letting go of the old and taking on the new.
Bridges describes transition in three phases. First come Endings, where people identify what they are losing and let it go. Then the Neutral Zone, the uncomfortable in-between where the old is gone but the new is not yet working. Last come New Beginnings, where a new identity and sense of purpose take hold. The model's abiding insight, in the words of Susan Bridges, is that the essence of the work takes place in the neutral zone, the very phase most leaders try to skip.
Leaders love the announcement because it is the change, and the change is the part they control. They neglect the transition because it is slow, messy and happens inside other people. Yet the announcement is the easy 10 per cent. The transition is the 90 that decides the outcome, and it starts, not ends, on the day of the announcement.
How do you help a team that is stuck in the neutral zone?
You name it, you normalise it, and you resist the urge to pretend it is not happening. The neutral zone is where productivity dips, tempers fray and people wonder aloud whether the whole thing was a mistake. It feels like failure and is actually the middle of the process working as it should.
The worst thing a leader can do in the neutral zone is demand that everyone act as though the transition is already complete. That tells people their real experience is unwelcome, so they hide it, and hidden difficulty festers. The better move is to say plainly that this stretch is hard, that it is temporary, and that feeling unsettled is a sign of being in the middle rather than proof of being lost.
Practically, the neutral zone needs more communication than feels necessary, not less. It needs small wins made visible so people can see the new way starting to work. It needs short-term goals, because the far horizon is too far to comfort anyone standing in the fog. And it needs permission to be temporarily worse at the job, because people who are terrified of failing will cling to the old way where they knew they were good.
It also asks something of the leader personally, which is to be present without pretending. A leader who vanishes during the hard middle signals that the difficulty is embarrassing and best not discussed. A leader who shows up, admits the stretch is uncomfortable and stays anyway gives people something to steady themselves against. You do not have to have the answers. You have to be visibly in it with them, because a team will forgive uncertainty far sooner than it will forgive being left alone in the fog while the person who caused it is nowhere to be found.
What does Kotter's model add?
Kotter works at the level of the organisation rather than the individual, and it supplies the sequence of moves that carries a large group through change. Where Bridges explains what each person is feeling, Kotter's eight steps describe what the leadership has to do.
The eight, in order, are: create a sense of urgency, build a guiding coalition, form a strategic vision, enlist a volunteer army, enable action by removing barriers, generate short-term wins, sustain acceleration and institute change. Read as a whole, they are an argument that change is a campaign rather than a decree. You cannot order a large organisation to change. You have to build the case, gather allies, clear the obstacles and reward early progress until the new way becomes simply the way.
The step people underrate is the first. Without a genuine sense of why the change matters now, everything downstream is pushing a boulder uphill. And the step people abuse is urgency itself, manufacturing panic that burns people out rather than a shared understanding that motivates them. Real urgency is a reason, honestly told. False urgency is a threat, and threats produce compliance that collapses the moment the pressure lifts.
The guiding coalition deserves a word too, because it is where lone leaders come unstuck. One charismatic champion is not enough to move an organisation, and when that champion moves on, the change often leaves with them. A coalition of respected people from across the business, who visibly agree the change is right, spreads the effort across many shoulders and many networks of trust. It also means the message is not carried by a single voice that people can dismiss as the boss's hobby. Change carried by a group looks like the future. Change carried by one person looks like a campaign that will end when they get bored.
Why can't you skip steps to save time?
Because the steps are not bureaucracy. They are the stages a group actually passes through, and skipping one does not remove it. It just means you pay for it later at a higher price.
Kotter made exactly this point in his Harvard Business Review essay Leading Change: Why Transformation Efforts Fail, where he wrote that change involves numerous phases that together take a long time, and that skipping steps creates only the illusion of speed and never produces a satisfying result. The temptation to skip is strongest under deadline pressure, which is precisely when skipping does the most damage.
A leader who announces a change without building urgency has skipped a step, and will spend the next year wondering why no one seems to care. A leader who declares victory after the first small win has skipped a step, and will watch the old habits creep back the moment attention moves on. The steps missed do not disappear. They wait, and they charge interest.
Where does ADKAR fit?
ADKAR is the bridge between the organisation's campaign and the individual's experience, and it is the one that speaks most directly to a change nobody chose. It insists that organisations do not change; individuals do, one at a time, and that a change only succeeds when enough individuals have personally made the shift.
Prosci's ADKAR model sets out five things each person needs, in order: Awareness of why the change is needed, Desire to take part in and support it, Knowledge of how to change, Ability to put the new skills into practice, and Reinforcement to make the new way stick. The order matters, because you cannot buy Desire with Knowledge. Training someone who does not yet understand why, or does not yet want to, is effort poured into a person who is not ready to receive it.
The second element is the crux for imposed change. Desire is described as choosing to participate in and support the change. When people did not choose the change itself, the one thing left to offer them is a genuine choice in how they meet it: a say in the details, an honest hearing for their concerns, and respect for the fact that consent cannot be commanded. You cannot force Desire. You can only create the conditions in which someone decides, of their own accord, to give it. That is slow, and there is no shortcut, and pretending otherwise is how the change fails.
So what actually helps a grieving team?
Honesty first. Tell people the truth about why the change is happening, including the parts that are uncomfortable, because people forgive a hard truth and never forgive being managed with a script. A reason honestly given is the foundation everything else rests on.
Then a say where you can give one. You may not be able to offer a choice about the change, but you can almost always offer a choice about how it is carried out, and even a small say restores the sense of agency that imposed change strips away. People support what they help to shape, even in small ways.
Then the skills to succeed, delivered as real coaching rather than a memo, so that people are not asked to adopt a new way while being set up to fail at it. And then time, and patience with the neutral zone, and short-term wins made visible so the fog begins to lift. Above all, the recognition that what looks like resistance is usually loss, and that the person grieving the old way is paying you a compliment about how much the work mattered to them.
It helps, finally, to mark the ending honestly rather than hurry past it. Something is being lost, and saying so out loud, acknowledging the good of the old way before turning to the new, does more to settle a team than any amount of forced enthusiasm. People need to close one chapter before they can open the next, and a leader who lets them do that, who does not treat the past as an embarrassment to be swept away, earns the trust that carries the whole effort. Rush the ending and you will find the neutral zone lasts longer, because people are still quietly holding on to what they were never allowed to put down.
Lead change as though people's feelings about it were data rather than noise, and most of the resistance you were braced for turns out to be the ordinary sound of people letting go. Give them room to do that, and they will come through, often stronger and more committed than before. Deny it, and they will comply until the day they can stop, and then they will stop.
One email when a book ships. Nothing between. Unsubscribe any time; never sold or shared.