Higher Performance Insights | THE REASON YOUR STRATEGIC PLAN ISN'T WORKING HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE PLAN

May 12, 2026
higher performance insights

Your last strategic planning retreat cost somewhere between $8,000 and $40,000 — when you add up the time, the facilitation, the venue, and the two days your cabinet wasn’t doing anything else.


Here’s the question nobody asked at the end of it:

Was the room that built the plan the room the plan required?

Not whether the right people were invited. Whether the right capacities were present. Whether the combination of people sitting around that table had everything the vision actually needed to become real — or whether the plan was quietly shaped by whoever happened to be in the seats.

Most strategic plans aren’t built for the institution. They’re built for the cabinet that was available to build them.

I’ve worked with enough leadership teams to know how this goes. The superintendent walks in with a vision. The cabinet is capable, committed, and shaped — over years of hiring and turnover and natural selection — to look a lot like the superintendent. They build a plan that reflects their collective strengths. They leave aligned.


And then Q1 happens.


The gap between where the plan said you’d be and where you actually are isn’t a project management failure. It’s a signal. It’s what happens when a strategy is built for the room that was available rather than the room the strategy required.


Here’s the audit question. Answer it honestly before you keep reading:


When you look at your current strategic priorities — the real ones, not the document ones — who in your cabinet is genuinely indispensable to achieving them? Not responsible for them. Indispensable. The person whose specific capacity, if it weren’t in the room, would make the outcome structurally impossible.


Name them. Count them. Say a little prayer of thanks for them.


Now: how many of your strategic priorities have an indispensable person attached to them? And how many are being carried by whoever was available?


That ratio is your planning problem. And it’s older than the plan.


What’s Actually Happening in Your Planning Room

Let’s talk about this like adults who have sat through enough strategic planning retreats to know the difference between a plan the room believed in and a plan the room ratified.


Here’s what the research from nearly 1,000 leadership teams shows, consistently: the single strongest predictor of strategic plan failure is not poor implementation. It’s misalignment between the plan’s requirements and the cabinet’s actual composition.


Not skills. Composition.


Three cabinet profiles. Each one builds a different kind of broken plan:


The vision-heavy superintendent builds a cabinet of people who love ideas and move slowly toward execution. Their strategic plan is beautifully conceived and perpetually in progress. The Q3 update says ‘on track’ because nobody in the room has built enough accountability structure to know that it isn’t.


The relationship-centered superintendent builds a cabinet of people who are warm, committed, and constitutionally unlikely to deliver hard news. Their strategic plan survives every board retreat and quietly erodes between them. The conversations about why don’t happen until the data makes them unavoidable.


The data-driven superintendent builds a cabinet of analysts and evidence-gatherers. Their strategic plan is the best-documented plan in the district. It is also three decision cycles behind every significant change in the environment it was designed to navigate.

The plan doesn’t fail in implementation. It fails the moment the room that built it lacked the capacity the plan required.

This is measurable at the structural level. The TQ Assessment maps five lead measures across your entire leadership team: Communication, Connection, Alignment, Capacity, and Execution. What most planning rooms are missing isn’t an obvious dysfunction — it’s a quiet collapse in one or two of these dimensions that shapes everything the room produces.


When Alignment collapses — when everyone around the table perceives priorities through roughly the same lens — you don’t get better strategy. You get more confidently built strategy with the same blind spots the superintendent had walking in.


That blind spot has a cost. It’s in your Q1 results. It’s in the initiative that’s been ‘in implementation’ for eighteen months. It’s in the person four layers down your org chart who knows exactly why the plan isn’t working and hasn’t been asked.


The TEAM INTELLIGENCE Assessment was built to diagnose this — not by evaluating individual performance, but by mapping whether your team has the collective composition the strategy actually requires. More on that below.


The most expensive room in educational leadership isn’t the boardroom. It’s the planning room that looks complete but isn’t — where the critical capacity is sitting in a seat four levels down, answering to someone who was in the room but didn’t know to ask.


The Framework: Talent Before Strategy — The Sequence That Changes Everything


The highest-performing cabinets in our research share one structural habit that most leadership teams never develop: they build the room before they build the plan.


Not ‘hire good people.’ That’s table stakes. The specific discipline of asking, before strategy work begins: what does this vision require — and who, specifically, needs to be in the room for this plan to have any real chance of becoming real?

Call this the Talent-First Sequence. Three moves, in order. Miss the sequence and you’re back to building a plan for the room you have.


Move 1: Name What the Vision Actually Requires

Every institutional vision has a capacity profile. A set of specific strengths — not job functions, not titles, not competencies — that are structurally necessary for the vision to become real.


A vision that requires institutional transformation needs someone in the room who has navigated genuine organizational upheaval before — not someone who has read about it. A vision that requires community trust-building needs someone whose actual relational capital exists in that community — not someone who is good at relationships in general.


The exercise: write your three most important strategic priorities at the top of a blank page. Under each one, answer this question — “What specific human capacity, if it were absent from the people executing this, would make the outcome structurally impossible?”


Not ‘communication skills.’ Not ‘strategic thinking.’ Specific. The CFO who has restructured a budget under enrollment pressure before. The instructional leader who has moved a school from Level 3 to Level 1 and knows, at a cellular level, what that transition actually costs.

Name the capacity before you name the person. The sequence matters.

Move 2: Audit the Gap Between What You Need and What You Have


Now look at your cabinet. For each capacity you named: who has it? Not who is responsible for the domain it lives in — who actually has the specific capacity?


This is where most leadership teams find the problem. The capacity is often present somewhere in the organization. It’s just not in the room where the plan gets built.


The gap audit isn’t a performance review. It’s a structural question: between the capacity this vision requires and the capacity currently present in the room, what’s missing?


Build the plan first and then try to staff for it and you’ve reversed the sequence — and you’ll spend the next eighteen months trying to execute a strategy designed around assumptions that the people executing it don’t actually share.


Move 3: Build the Strategy Around the Strengths That Are Actually in the Room


This is the move that separates the plans that work from the plans that get laminated.


Once you know what the vision requires and who actually has those capacities — build the strategy around their specific strengths. Not a generic strategy that anyone could theoretically execute. A strategy designed around the actual humans who will execute it.


Most strategic plans are built to be transferable — designed so that any reasonably capable cabinet could execute them. That’s not a feature. That’s the bug. A transferable plan is a plan that nobody owns deeply enough to fight for when it gets hard.

The plans that survive Q3 are the ones built around the specific, irreplaceable strengths of the specific people responsible for them.

The Case Study: What Dominic’s Cabinet Built — And What It Was Missing


Let me tell you about a superintendent I’ll call Dominic. (Not his real name — but Dominic, if you’re reading this, you know exactly who you are, and so does the person who finally made it into the room in year three.)


Dominic had spent four years building something real. A district that had moved from adequate to genuinely strong on most of the metrics that mattered. A cabinet he trusted completely. A strategic plan the board had approved enthusiastically. And a student outcomes gap — specifically in his highest-need schools — that wasn’t closing.


When we ran the TQ Assessment with Dominic’s cabinet, the picture was clear in about forty minutes.


His cabinet was exceptional at systems thinking, community relationships, and strategic communication. Every person in that room was strong in at least two of those three. They had built a plan that leveraged all three beautifully — and they had built it without the one capacity the outcome actually required.


Nobody in the room had ever personally closed a demographic outcomes gap. Not led a team that had. They were designing a strategy for an outcome none of them had navigated from the inside.


The TQ data pointed directly to it: the Execution and Alignment scores were strong. But the Connection and Capacity scores told a different story — the team was running hard in confident coordination, without the specific experiential knowledge the strategy required.


The capacity wasn’t absent from the district. It was in two principals — neither of them cabinet-level — who had each moved a school through exactly this transition in prior districts. They had been consulted. They had not been in the room.

Dominic didn’t have an achievement gap problem. He had a room problem. The plan was being built by people who had never closed what the plan was trying to close.

Dominic made one structural change. He created a standing seat at the cabinet strategy table for those two principals during any planning conversation related to student outcomes. Fourteen months later: statistically significant movement on three outcome indicators in both schools.


The plan that emerged from a complete room looked different from the plan a mirror room would have built. It was less elegant. It was more specific. It worked.


Four Moves This Week


Move 1: Run the Capacity Audit on Your Top Three Priorities (45 minutes)

Take your three most important strategic priorities. For each one, write the answer to this question: “What specific human capacity — not job function, not title — is structurally necessary for this outcome to become real?”


Then: who in your cabinet has it? Not who is responsible for the domain — who has the specific, experience-forged, I’ve-done-this-before capacity? If you can’t name someone for every priority, you’ve found your planning gap.


Move 2: Identify Who’s Not in the Room (20 minutes)


For each gap you named: is the capacity present somewhere in the organization — just not at the cabinet level? Name the person. Name their current role. Then ask the harder question: why aren’t they in the room when the plans that require their capacity are being built?


The answer is almost always one of three things: hierarchy (the org chart says they don’t belong at that table), habit (we’ve never done it that way), or discomfort (having them in the room would complicate the conversation). None of those are good reasons. All of them are common ones.


Move 3: Ask the Backwards Question at Your Next Planning Conversation (15 minutes)


Before the next strategic agenda item — before you walk in with a framework or a recommendation — open with this:

“Before we build toward this, I want to know: who in this room has personally navigated something close to what we’re trying to accomplish here? Not studied it. Done it.”


Then listen. What you hear — and what you don’t — is the most accurate capacity audit you can run. The silence after that question is the gap.


Move 4: Build One Initiative Around the People, Not the Other Way Around (This Quarter)


Pick one upcoming initiative. Instead of starting with the strategy: start with the people who will execute it. What are they genuinely excellent at? What does a strategy look like that is built to leverage those specific strengths — rather than asking them to execute a strategy designed for someone else’s profile?


The plan that emerges will be less universal. It will also be more executable.


Two Objections, Handled

“My cabinet is already set. I can’t restructure it around every new initiative.”

You’re not restructuring the cabinet. You’re restructuring who’s in the room when strategy gets built. Those are different things.

Dominic didn’t promote two principals to his cabinet. He created standing seats at the planning table for specific conversations. The org chart didn’t change. The plan did. The outcomes did.

“We don’t have time to redesign how we plan. We’re already behind.”

You’re behind because the last plan was built in a room that didn’t have everything the plan required. Running faster through the same process produces the same gap, faster.


The Capacity Audit takes forty-five minutes. The Backwards Question takes fifteen. Neither requires a restructure or a retreat or a new framework. They require the willingness to ask who’s missing from the room before the room starts building.


The Maturity Shift

  • Immature leaders think: “My job is to build the best strategy for my cabinet.”
  • Mature leaders think: “My job is to build the cabinet the strategy requires.”
  • Immature leaders start with the plan. They build a strong strategy, gain buy-in, and ask whoever’s in the room to execute it. When it underperforms, they improve the plan.
  • Mature leaders start with the vision’s requirements. They name what the outcome needs before they name who’s responsible for it. Then they check: is that capacity in the room? If it isn’t, they find it before the planning starts.


Eight excellent people with the same profile is not a cabinet. It’s an echo chamber with a strategic plan.

The plan that fails in Q3 was missing something in Q4 of the previous year — when the room that built it didn’t have the capacity the outcome required, and nobody asked.

From 987 leadership teams across 43 states: the cabinets that moved from 60% to 90% collective capacity didn’t do it by getting smarter. They did it by getting more complete. By finding the gap between what the vision required and what the room contained — and closing it before the plan got built.


Your turn: What’s the capacity that was missing from your last major planning conversation — the specific thing that, if it had been in the room, would have changed what you built? You don’t have to name a person. Name the capacity.


Drop it in the comments. Tag a leader you’ve watched build the room before building the plan.


TQ ASSESSMENT


Here is the thing most leadership development programs will not tell you, because it implicates the model they’re selling:

Individual development cannot close a composition gap.

You can make every person in your cabinet sharper, more self-aware, and more skilled at their craft. If the room is still missing the capacity the vision requires, sharper individuals will execute the wrong plan with more precision.


The TEAM INTELLIGENCE Assessment is the diagnostic this conversation has been pointing toward. Not an evaluation of individual performance — a map of your team’s collective composition.


 Here’s what it measures:

  • Communication — whether information moves clearly up, down, and across the cabinet, or stalls in the places where you can’t see it stalling
  • Connection — the depth of trust and psychological safety that determines whether hard conversations happen or get managed around
  • Alignment — whether your cabinet’s top priorities actually match yours, or whether you’re running parallel tracks that look aligned at the retreat and diverge by Tuesday
  • Capacity — whether the team has the structural sustainability to perform without burning out the people the strategy depends on most
  • Execution — whether plans reliably become results, or whether your team is excellent at commitment and inconsistent at follow-through
  • Leader Competency Index — a separate seven-item measure of how consistently leadership is building trust, distributing authority, managing conflict, and developing others. Not how your team sees outcomes — how they see you.


57 questions. Anonymous. Aggregated. A full PDF report and a 60-minute live debrief with me. Built specifically for K–12 and higher education leadership teams.


If this article landed for you, the TEAM INTELLIGENCE Assessment is the logical next move. I’m running assessments with a select group of leadership teams this summer — timed specifically for June end-of-year retreats and August back-to-school kickoffs. If you’re reading this before your summer planning season, that timing is not an accident.


If the Q1 conversation is getting harder to have — if the gap between the plan and the reality is starting to look less like a project management problem and more like a room problem — let’s talk about what your cabinet’s data actually says.

Learn more about the assessment at higherperformancegroup.com/tq-assessment — then text me at 218-310-7857 or grab a time directly at calendly.com/higherperformance/30minutecoffee. Either works.


This is a conversation between people who are done building excellent plans for incomplete rooms.


Found Value in This?


→ Repost with your answer to the Capacity Audit: what’s the one capacity that was missing from your last major planning conversation?

→ Tag a superintendent or president who asks ‘who do we need in here’ before ‘what should we build.’ They’re doing something specific. Name it.

→ Comment with the gap. Not the person — the capacity. Vision. Challenge. Execution. Community knowledge. Operational reality. The pattern in those answers is more valuable than anything I could add.

Follow DR. JOE HILL and Higher Performance Group for weekly Team Intelligence insights.

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More Blog Articles

By HPG Info • September 22, 2026
The most persuasive person in your cabinet meeting might be the reason nothing ever gets decided. Enrollment in a long-time program has been sliding for three straight years. The data says cut it. The community loves it. The board wants a recommendation by spring. You already know the safe move. Commission another study. Form a committee. Push the real call into next year's budget cycle, when maybe the numbers look different, or maybe you've retired, or maybe someone else has to say the hard thing instead of you. That's not patience. That's a decision, made by default, dressed up as diligence. Here's the part nobody says in the retreat: the calls you're avoiding are already being made. By the calendar, by attrition, by whichever board member gets impatient first. You're just not the one making them anymore, and every month that passes makes that arrangement feel more normal. 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"My board will see this as me going rogue." Your board is currently watching you not decide, which they've already noticed and are already discounting. A leader who makes a clear, well-explained call earns more trust than one who keeps extending the study, even from board members who disagree with the call itself. Disagreement they can work with. A leader who won't commit is the thing that actually erodes a board's confidence over time, slowly enough that most leaders never connect the two. THE MATURITY SHIFT Immature leaders think: "I need everyone on board before I decide." Mature leaders think: "I need enough trust in the bank that I can decide before everyone's on board." Immature leaders protect the "me" indefinitely, mistaking the protection itself for leadership. Mature leaders spend it on purpose, when it's actually needed, then go back to building it again. Here's the part that should sting a little: every month you manage instead of make, you're not staying neutral. You're teaching your cabinet what actually happens here when a hard call arrives. Some of them are already learning that the answer is: nothing, for a while, and then someone else's problem. Your turn: name one decision on your desk right now that you're managing instead of making. What, specifically, are you waiting for that isn't actually going to arrive? Drop it in the comments, or keep it to yourself and just answer it honestly. Either way, that decision is your "I," waiting for permission you don't need. This is what THE TEAM INSTITUTE exists to build: a cabinet with enough shared Perceptual Intelligence that when you spend the trust, the room reads it as leadership instead of instability. Across our research, cabinets that built this shared architecture saw performance improve roughly 3x and outcomes improve 27%, largely because the hard calls stopped requiring one person to carry them alone.  If there were a way to make the call you're avoiding without spending the next year rebuilding what it costs you, would that be worth twenty minutes this week? Start here: higherperformancegroup.com/team-intelligence-assessment Whether or not this week is right for that, help another leader see the decision they're sitting on. Repost this with the call you finally made, or the one you're still avoiding. Tag a leader who's been managing something for a year and already knows the answer. Or drop your own version in the comments — someone else's Tuesday gets easier because you did. Follow DR. JOE HILL and Higher Performance Group for weekly Team Intelligence insights. Higher Performance Group | THE TEAM INSTITUTE
By HPG Info • September 15, 2026
Not the parking-lot kind. The kind that happens in the room. I want to say something that will get me uninvited from a few conferences this year: the calmest cabinet meeting in your building this month was probably the most dishonest one. Nobody lied in that meeting. Everyone in the room agreed to something nobody actually believed, and called it professionalism. There's a scene near the start of 12 Angry Men where eleven jurors vote guilty in under two minutes. Nobody's examined the knife. Nobody's questioned the witness. They just want to make the four o'clock ballgame, and a fast unanimous vote looks exactly like agreement. Patrick Lencioni named the real version of that back in 2002, and the label still fits: artificial harmony. Your cabinet runs its own eleven-to-one vote most weeks, and it doesn't need a jury box to do it. Here's the uncomfortable part. A cabinet with zero visible conflict almost always has the same explanation: something real never got said out loud. THE DIAGNOSIS Let's talk about this like adults who've sat through a “great meeting” that solved nothing. You know the meeting where the budget gets flagged as a concern, everyone nods that they'll “look into their numbers,” and six weeks later the same number resurfaces, because nobody said out loud whose number it was to fix. You know the one where two VPs have been quietly furious with each other since March over a staffing decision, and you can feel it every week in how carefully they avoid each other, and you've decided not to name it because naming it feels like starting something. You know the one where a board member's pet initiative gets full-throated public support in the room, then gets picked apart, sentence by sentence, in the parking lot the second the meeting adjourns. That parking lot conversation is where your cabinet's real meeting is actually happening. The one with the agenda is theater. We call it Consent Theater: everyone performs alignment in the room, and almost nobody in the room actually feels it. I know the exhaustion of being the only person who can feel the thing nobody's saying. It's a specific kind of lonely: watching six capable adults nod in unison at a decision you already know three of them will quietly work around by Thursday. (This is the exact gap THE TEAM INSTITUTE was built to close: the collective architecture that makes disagreement safe enough to happen in the room, in real time, instead of surfacing later in a one-on-one, a group text, or the parking lot. Most leadership development still trains individuals to argue better. This trains the room to hold the argument without breaking. More on that in a moment.) Here's the diagnosis. This is an EQ problem, specifically the part of EQ nobody trains: the capacity to host real disagreement without the room falling apart. Most leadership development sharpens IQ. Almost none of it builds a team's tolerance for productive friction. TQ = IQ × EQ × PQ. Skip that capacity, and you're not getting a calmer team. You're multiplying by something close to zero. THE REAL-FIGHT LITMUS (Or: How to Tell a Real Fight From a Tantrum, in Under Ten Seconds) Call this the Real-Fight Litmus. Or don't — it'll still explain why your cabinet's least professional-sounding argument last year was probably its most valuable ten minutes, while last month's perfectly polite meeting produced exactly nothing. Not all workplace drama is the same. There's melodrama, and there's the real thing, and most leaders never learned to tell them apart, so they shut down both the same way. Three checks separate them. The Stakes Check. Is this about the mission, the budget, the students, the decision, or is it about who gets credit and whose feelings got bruised three weeks ago? Real conflict is anchored to something the institution actually needs solved. (IQ's job: knowing whether the fight is even worth having.) The Address Check. Is it being said to the person it's about, in the room, right now, or about that person, to someone else, later? Real conflict happens at the table. Manufactured drama happens in the parking lot, the group text, the hallway pull-aside that somehow never includes the actual person. (EQ's job: whether the team has the nerve to say it to the face instead of the back.) The Landing Check. Does it end with a decision, an owner, and a next step, or does it just end, unresolved, waiting to resurface next month wearing a different disguise? (PQ's job: reading the room accurately enough to know when the real issue has actually surfaced.) Miss any one, and per the formula, you're multiplying by something close to zero: all the emotional energy of a real fight, none of the resolution. THE CASE STUDY This is a composite, drawn from patterns across our work with 987 leadership teams , not one specific superintendent's story. Picture a seven-person cabinet known among peer districts as “the calm one.” Internally, two departments hadn't fully trusted each other in over a year, since a staffing reallocation neither side felt was handled fairly. Nobody had said that sentence out loud with both of them in the room. Instead, it surfaced everywhere else: in one-on-ones with the superintendent, in the politely cold exchanges in shared meetings, in a joint enrollment-outreach grant the two departments had quietly stopped planning together — fourteen months and counting. The turning point came in one meeting when the superintendent named it directly: “I think there's an unresolved staffing decision between these two departments, and I'd rather we have that conversation here, today, than everywhere else.” Twenty-five uncomfortable minutes followed, then something the cabinet hadn't had in over a year: a resolution, with an owner and a next step, that both departments could name identically when asked separately. The grant application was back on both departments' calendars within three weeks. Six months later, joint planning had gone from an occasional truce to a standing agenda item. Same seven people. One real fight, finally allowed to land where it belonged. THE APPLICATION Here's what to do Monday morning (assuming you're not already mid-crisis, in which case, do this Tuesday): Step 1: Run the Litmus on Your Last Meeting (15 minutes). Pull last week's cabinet agenda. For each item that generated any friction at all, ask the three checks: was it about the mission, or about ego? Was it said in the room, or about someone elsewhere? Did it land on a decision, or did it just stop? If most items pass all three, you have real conflict already, and you're ahead of most cabinets. If most items fail the Address Check, you have a parking-lot cabinet, and the real meeting is happening somewhere you're not. Step 2: Name One Unresolved Thing, Out Loud, In the Room (20 minutes at your next meeting). Pick the one disagreement everyone already knows about but nobody has said directly to the people involved. Say it plainly, the way the superintendent did above: name what you've noticed, and invite the actual conversation, in the room, this week, not “offline.” This will feel like the least professional five minutes you've had in months. It's also the most useful. Step 3: Build a Team Norm for the Address Check (ongoing). Agree, as a cabinet, on one rule: disagreements about a colleague's decision get raised to that colleague, not about them. Practicing this once doesn't undo a year of parking-lot conversations. Practicing it every week, for a few months, does. “We don't have time for this.” You're already spending it. The latest workplace research puts the average manager at over four hours a week managing workplace conflict — more than 230 hours a year. That number doesn't change based on whether you have the real fight or not. It just changes whether that time produces an actual decision, or more meetings about the meeting. “This will make our meetings feel less professional.” Maybe for the first few. But Google's own multi-year Project Aristotle study found one trait separated its highest-performing teams from the rest: psychological safety, the freedom to disagree openly without fear of looking bad in the room. Politeness never made the list. You've been chasing the wrong variable. THE MATURITY SHIFT Immature leaders think: “A good meeting is one where nobody gets upset.” Mature leaders think: “A good meeting is one where the real thing finally got said.” Immature leaders protect the room from conflict, and call it culture. Mature leaders protect the room's capacity to have the conflict, and call it trust. The gap runs deeper than temperament. Somewhere along the way, we convinced an entire generation of leaders that a quiet room is a healthy room. Lencioni named the pattern in 2002. Twenty-four years and a mountain of team-performance research later, most cabinets still run on the original assumption: calm equals healthy. Every eleven-to-one vote your cabinet takes without a single dissenting question is a choice, made weekly, about whether the real disagreement happens in the room or goes and finds somewhere else to live. Your turn: think of the disagreement your cabinet is currently avoiding in the name of staying “professional.” Where is it actually living right now? A one-on-one? A group text? Somebody's resignation letter draft? Name it in the comments. I'll wait. If artificial harmony has been running your cabinet's meetings, and after this issue you don't believe “calm” and “healthy” are the same thing anymore, then what's missing is architecture: the collective skill of hosting real disagreement without the room, or the relationships in it, falling apart. This is what THE TEAM INSTITUTE builds. It's an eight-month program for full leadership cabinets — superintendents and university presidents and the people who sit across the table from them — built around exactly this kind of collective muscle: knowing which fights are real, having them where they belong, and landing them on an actual decision. Across 987 leadership teams, cabinets that did this work saw performance improve roughly 3x and engagement rise 29%, without an increase in burnout, which is usually the quiet cost of every other leadership initiative that just asks people to try harder. Start with the Team Intelligence Assessment. It'll tell you, plainly, whether your cabinet's calm is real or borrowed: https://www.higherperformancegroup.com/tq-assessment Whether or not this is the season for that step, here's a smaller one that costs nothing: repost this with the disagreement your cabinet has been calling “fine” for longer than it should have, tag the colleague who already knows exactly which one you mean, or drop your own version in the comments. Somebody else's cabinet needs to hear that they're not the only one avoiding the same conversation. Follow DR. JOE HILL and Higher Performance Group | THE TEAM INSTITUTE
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