Why do we struggle with change when we're clearly so capable of it?
It's a funny thing really. We humans spend an awful lot of time resisting change, despite the fact it's the only constant. It's inevitable. Frankly, we can't stop it.
I can't actually think of many things that aren't finite except change itself. (Answers on a postcard if you've got one.)
Organisations aren't exempt either. If anything, they arguably have it even harder. They're trying to help hundreds or sometimes thousands of people change at the same time, all with different experiences, motivations and fears.
Yet change is possible. History proves it.
Think about smoking in pubs. Wearing seatbelts. Drink driving. Smoking around children. Behaviours that, within a generation or two, shifted from being widely accepted to socially unacceptable. Human beings are remarkably adaptable. We evolve.
As Peter Drucker is often quoted as saying:
"The greatest danger in times of turbulence is not the turbulence; it is to act with yesterday's logic."
That's worth remembering if you're in the middle of a transformation right now. Transformations can feel like you're getting knocked down over and over again. But history reminds us that sometimes we just need to dust ourselves off and go again.
So the question is... why?
Why do we struggle so much with change when we're so clearly capable of it?
Now that's a pretty big question, and frankly one article isn't going to cover it.
I've written before (or rambled, depending on your perspective!) about why real transformation starts with leaders looking in the mirror. Too often organisations try to do change to their people rather than with them, which causes a plethora of challenges (more on that another time), or talk about change management as if the humans in the organisation are programs ready to be re-written.
In my experience the most successful change comes from human-centred transformation. Because organisations don't change. But the people do.
So let's revisit something I see everywhere; in coaching conversations, with friends, in my own behaviour and repeatedly inside organisations. The reason why your people may be struggling with change.
Cognitive dissonance
Back in 1957, social psychologist Leon Festinger proposed Cognitive Dissonance Theory. Paraphrasing, he said that when our beliefs, behaviours or attitudes clash with one another, we experience a type of psychological discomfort, which causes or motivates most of us to reduce that discomfort.
How this manifests itself in change is... we convince ourselves we don't actually need to change at all.
"I've always done it this way."
versus
"I now need to do it differently."
Being told you need to change your routines, beliefs and rituals doesn't always feel good, so the easiest way to reduce that discomfort is simply not doing it. Easy, solved!
We can quite easily convince ourselves that we don't need to, or that the new way is stupid, etc etc (and perhaps it is, again more on that another time).
In other words, we metaphorically stick our fingers in our ears and go...
"Lalalalala..."
...while carrying on exactly as we were before.
Sound familiar?
"Am I safe?"
Why? Well, our brains have evolved to prioritise survival and minimise unnecessary risk. That's a very good thing. I wouldn't want a brain that couldn't recognise danger.
Danger comes in lots of different forms. It helps us avoid eating food that's clearly gone off. It helps us react if a lion suddenly appears in front of us (hopefully that one's not a daily occurrence). It helps us navigate modern life too.
Our brains are constantly asking one question:
"Am I safe?"
The challenge is that change, and the feeling of uncertainty it can bring, can sometimes be interpreted as a potential threat, even when the change itself isn't dangerous. Even when, logically, we know the change might actually improve things.
That's where cognitive dissonance starts to creep in.
"I've always worked like this."
"I know this works."
"I'm comfortable here."
Now someone comes along and says...
"We'd like you to do it differently."
Suddenly those beliefs start rubbing up against each other.
That discomfort isn't weakness. It's human.
The tool nobody used
I was chatting recently to someone who had developed a digital tool for their organisation. They couldn't understand why hardly anyone was using it.
As we talked it through, it became pretty obvious that the technology itself wasn't really the problem.
The tool made the users' day-to-day jobs feel harder. It created extra effort. The value was largely for the wider organisation, but nobody had really explained that to the people expected to use it.
From their perspective, they'd gone from a process they understood to one that felt slower, more difficult and frankly a bit painful.
They stuck their fingers in their ears, went "lalalala", and carried on using the old system.
Not because they were lazy. Not because they didn't care.
Because the new way created cognitive dissonance.
This is why I believe so strongly in human-centred transformation. If we don't understand what people believe, what they value, what they're afraid of or what they think they're losing, we shouldn't be surprised when they don't embrace our shiny new solution.
People rarely resist change for the sake of it. More often than not, they're trying to protect something.
So how do we overcome it?
There's no magic formula, but with clients, teams and organisations I tend to come back to four things.
1. Interrupt the pattern
Whether you're coaching one person or leading transformation across an organisation, the first step is noticing what's happening.
Become curious. What's driving the current behaviour? Fear? Habit? Lack of understanding? Poor communication? Insufficient training?
Resistance is usually trying to tell us something.
On an individual level, noticing what is happening for you is often called metacognition; thinking about your thinking. It's surprisingly powerful.
I still experience health anxiety after cancer. The other day I found myself standing in the shower heading down one of those familiar dark thought spirals.
This time I noticed it. I said to myself...
"That's anxiety. Be curious."
Immediately the conversation inside my own head changed.
Was it understandable? Absolutely. Was it helping me? No.
Interestingly, brain imaging research suggests that deliberately reflecting on our own thoughts, rather than simply reacting automatically, engages different neural networks involved in self-regulation and conflict monitoring. It's one reason why simply noticing a thought can begin to change our relationship with it.
If you're sceptical, give it a go. You might be surprised.
2. Replace the old behaviour
Stopping a behaviour is hard. Replacing it is much easier.
Back in my early twenties, I used to smoke (yes, sadly I used to smoke... don't judge). I was standing outside a particularly grotty nightclub in Brighton rolling a cigarette when I suddenly thought...
"I don't actually want this."
It had become pure habit.
At the time I'd read that nicotine cravings often peak for only a few minutes before subsiding. Whether every detail of that was scientifically accurate almost became irrelevant, because it gave me a strategy that worked for me.
Every time I wanted a cigarette, I distracted myself.
My chosen distraction? Long multiplication. Something like 342 × 207.
You'd think I'd now be brilliant at maths. I'm not. I still reach for my phone calculator.
But without realising it, I'd replaced one habit with another.
The principle applies just as much inside organisations. If you're asking people to stop doing something, you need to replace it with something that genuinely makes sense to them.
3. Repeat. Then repeat again.
I remember watching a neuroscientist speak at one of my corporate events. Sadly, I can't remember her name because I quote this analogy all the time.
She described building a new habit like walking through long grass.
The first few times it's hard work. The grass is tall. It's wet. You have to lift your knees. You can't really see where you're going.
But each time you walk that route, the grass becomes a little flatter. Eventually a path appears. Then one day you don't even think about it.
You simply walk the well-trodden path.
Our brains work in a remarkably similar way. Every repetition strengthens that pathway a little more. Neuroscientists refer to this incredible ability as neuroplasticity; the brain's capacity to reorganise itself through experience.
In other words... practice really does help change the brain.
4. Tell people what's happening
This one gets missed all the time.
Explain why change feels uncomfortable. Explain what cognitive dissonance is. Normalise it.
Create opportunities for people to ask questions. Listen to feedback. Be prepared to adapt.
As William Bridges wrote in Managing Transitions:
"It isn't the changes that do you in, it's the transitions."
Understanding is one of the most underrated ingredients of successful transformation. People are far more resilient when they understand what's happening than when they think they're simply failing.
Brilliantly adaptable
So yes, cognitive dissonance exists. Our brains don't always welcome change.
But history tells us something equally important. Human beings are brilliantly adaptable. We've been changing our minds, our behaviours and our societies for thousands of years.
The question isn't whether people can change. It's whether we're creating the conditions that make change feel possible.
Maybe that's what human-centred transformation is really about.
Not forcing people to change. Creating the conditions where they feel safe enough to.
I'll leave you with one final question.
Where are you experiencing cognitive dissonance right now?
Because if you're feeling it, chances are you're closer to growth than you think.
Ready to explore more?
Get in touch to discuss how these insights apply to your unique situation.