When Workarounds Become Doctrine
The other day, after months of drowning in unnecessary texts and emails, I decided to make a slide deck. Leaders in my organization weren’t making decisions—they were just telling their teams to forward everything to me. By walking through admin processes, and providing some logic for how to make basic decisions, I figured I was empowering everyone to get things done more quickly and closer to home. So, after refining it a while, I blasted it out to everyone.
Soon after, my old operations manager responded with what looked like feedback, but was actually an intervention. It’s a little soon to say this, but I think it may have been the inflection point of some big changes for me.
His response called out shortcomings I needed to hear, but mainly he was saying I was trying to solve documentation issues when the real problem was a lack of organizational architecture, and I was trying to fix it without authority.
It’s a friction I’ve felt since I joined the organization: everything has a process to it, but as soon as I learn one, three others pop up. I chalked feeling lost up to being new, or an atypical addition to the team, but I wonder if everybody feels this way. Better yet, I wonder if nobody else cares because the workarounds holding this place together are good enough for them, but not for me.
This system “works” because subject matter experts act as human answering services. Email so-and-so instead of following process, get an answer. Fast, personalized, correct. It’s not sustainable. It just hasn’t collapsed yet.
My Options
I had three options. One, polish the slide deck: make it pretty, add everything he suggested, keep myself busy producing a better artifact that nobody asked for. Two, build actual infrastructure: learn the standards, create the architecture, get stakeholder buy-in, run training. The right answer if you have authority or dedicated time. I had neither. Or three, acknowledge system boundaries and stop trying to solve problems I don’t own. I chose option 3. Mainly.
Which is to say I did polish the slide deck—I couldn’t help myself. But I stopped trying to will organizational change into existence through documentation alone. The slide deck exists now. If leadership ever wants infrastructure, it’s ready. If not, at least I’m not still sending unsolicited process improvement emails.
This feels like retreat, and maybe it is. But it’s also just correctly identifying what I control versus what I care about, and whether I want to dive down the rabbit hole of earning that authority. For this organization, I don’t.
What I Actually Learned
The operations manager wasn’t telling me to try harder. He was showing me I’d misidentified the problem. Real infrastructure isn’t just documentation. It’s architecture, stakeholder alignment, change management, sustained ownership, and formal authority. I had enthusiasm and a slide deck. That’s not infrastructure.
So I stopped trying to be the solution. I’ll document problems clearly enough that someone with actual authority might care, but that’s it. And, yes, I fixed the slide deck based on what my old manager said. Not because I think it’ll get traction, but because if conditions change, it’s ready. But I also reclassified my role from aggressive pilot to advisor. When asked, I’ll explain. When given authority, I’ll act. Until then, I maintain documentation and let the system operate as not-designed.
But what really changed is how I can’t stop seeing this pattern: individuals trying to refactor systems they don’t control. You can see the problem clearly. You can build a solution. You can even be right. But if you can’t change incentives, reallocate resources, or enforce adoption… you’re doing performance art in the guise of productivity.
What’s Next
I still think this organization needs better processes, and actual knowledge management to reduce friction. I still think new leaders shouldn’t have to learn everything through trial and error and feel like they’re drowning until they find a mentor or get ignored enough that they find a way.
But I’ve stopped treating my role as “fix the organization” and started treating it as “provide continuity and advice within my lane.” If leadership wants infrastructure, I have artifacts ready. If not, I’ve stopped burning energy fighting inertia. That’s not cynicism. It’s just correctly identifying what I control, even if that’s a lot less than what I care about. And I’ve lost the desire to work in a setting full of problems I can’t solve. That’s the inflection point, I’m just still figuring out what it means.