The Wagon Train Problem
The stories of the American West usually focus on the destination.
A better life. Open land. Freedom. Opportunity. The chance to start again.
The wagon trains heading west were presented as proof of courage and optimism. Families loading their possessions into wooden wagons and setting off across the prairie towards a brighter future.
Modern organisations talk about transformation in much the same way.
The language is different but the promise is familiar. Agility. Innovation. Digital transformation. Culture change. A new operating model. A better future somewhere over the horizon.
The reality, then as now, was rather harsher.
The journey west was slow, dirty and uncertain. Cholera spread quickly. Animals collapsed from exhaustion. Wheels splintered during river crossings. Possessions were abandoned beside the trail simply to lighten the load enough to keep moving.
Many travellers discovered too late they were poorly equipped for the journey they had enthusiastically volunteered to undertake.
Corporate life increasingly feels similar.
Burned-out teams. Long term sickness. Quiet resignations. Managers disappearing after “mutually agreed departures.” Employees described as resilient right up until the moment they collapse.
Along the original trails there were abandoned wagons, broken wheels and unmarked graves.
People saw them. People rarely spoke about them.
Everyone notices the wreckage. Few mention it during the leadership briefing.
The mythology of the frontier depended on movement. Keep heading west. Keep moving forward. Stopping felt dangerous. Doubt was seen as weakness.
Many transformation programmes now operate in exactly the same way.
In some organisations movement itself has become the strategy. Another restructure. Another operating model. Another culture programme. Another transformation initiative announced before the previous one has properly settled. Often accompanied by a new slogan, a redesigned slide deck and assurances that this time the change will be fully embedded.
The organisational equivalent of continuing west simply because nobody knows how to stop safely.
Like the wagon trains, the pace is usually determined by the slowest wagon.
This is the part leadership teams rarely discuss openly.
Presentations about change often assume everyone can adapt at the same speed. That employees possess the same confidence, resilience and support systems. Officially, everyone is invited on the journey.
Operational reality is different.
Some teams begin already exhausted. Some employees carry far heavier loads than others. Some managers have reinforced wagons and fresh horses while others are trying to keep moving with cracked wheels and dwindling supplies.
The rhetoric of inclusion often focuses on representation. The operational reality of inclusion is pace. If the organisation moves faster than large parts of the workforce can realistically sustain, then some people will inevitably be left behind however impressive the strategy document appears.
In practice, organisations often redefine those struggling to keep up as resistant to change.
The wagon trains rarely stopped long for those who could no longer continue. There were too many miles ahead and too much invested in reaching the destination.
Modern organisations can behave similarly.
On the frontier morale mattered. Too much honesty about the risks could create panic. Corporate transformation often operates under similar rules.
The old wagon trains also depended heavily on guides who claimed to know the way.
In truth many trails were poorly mapped. Conditions changed constantly. Some guides exaggerated their expertise. Others simply projected certainty because uncertainty frightened people. A guide admitting uncertainty rarely inspired confidence. Executive teams often operate by similar logic.
Modern organisations still reward confidence heavily during periods of instability. The more uncertain the environment becomes, the stronger the appetite for people who appear certain they know the route ahead.
Consultants, advisers and transformation specialists thrive in these conditions. Not necessarily because they possess all the answers, but because anxious organisations desperately want somebody to sound as though they do.
Confidence is still frequently mistaken for competence. Especially by frightened people looking for reassurance.
The more uncertain the journey becomes, the more organisations tend to “circle the wagons.”
Originally this was a temporary defensive tactic used when travellers feared attack from outside. In organisational life it often becomes permanent culture.
Under pressure organisations become inward-looking. Questions are treated as negativity. Dissent becomes disloyalty. Employees are encouraged to “support the direction of travel.” Leaders speak constantly about alignment.
The circle tightens.
Ironically the original wagon trains were far less dependent on rugged individualism than later mythology suggested. Survival depended on cooperation. Sharing supplies. Repairing broken wagons together. Protecting vulnerable travellers. Making practical decisions quickly without waiting for permission from distant authority.
The frontier rewarded judgement, initiative and improvisation.
Modern organisations often claim to value these same qualities while building cultures where employees fear making decisions without approval from multiple governance groups and several layers of management.
Organisations praise entrepreneurial behaviour right up until the moment somebody bypasses procedure, ignores hierarchy or makes a decision that creates political discomfort.
In difficult terrain, waiting for permission can become its own form of risk.
The mythology of the frontier celebrates courage, opportunity and the pioneers who eventually reached California.
It says rather less about those buried beside the trail.
Transformation always looks more impressive from the front of the wagon train.
However the people walking beside the broken wagons usually have a clearer understanding of the journey.
