Higher Performance Insights | YOU'VE BEEN WINNING THE WRONG GAME

March 10, 2026
higher performance insights

Why Your Cabinet Is Exhausted and Your Results Are Flat


LEADER INSIGHTS: Weekly Team Intelligence for Educational Leaders | Dr. Joe Hill | Higher Performance Group

A superintendent I know — twenty-one years in education, relentlessly strategic, the kind of leader other leaders call when they're stuck — sat down at a regional convening last fall and said something I haven't stopped thinking about.

 "I feel like we're sprinting. Everybody's exhausted. Nobody can point to what changed."

 He wasn't describing failure. His district is moving. His board is happy. His cabinet shows up.


 He was describing something harder to name: the specific exhaustion of motion without transformation.


 73% of educational leaders in our 987-team study report feeling perpetually behind — behind on initiatives, behind on trends, behind on where they think they should be by now.


 You're not behind. You've been playing the wrong game entirely.


 The institutions actually winning? They stopped playing catch-up years ago. They're running a fundamentally different game — with fundamentally different rules. And here's the plot twist: the game they're playing is actually simpler than the one you're exhausting yourself with right now.


 TQ = IQ × EQ × PQ. When your team's collective attention is fragmented across twenty-three initiatives, the PQ dimension — positional intelligence, the clarity about who does what and why — collapses toward zero. Anything multiplied by zero produces exactly the strategic outcomes you've been getting.


 The Diagnosis: Three Games, One Winner


 Let's talk about this like adults who've survived multiple strategic planning retreats and at least one initiative that died quietly in a Google Drive folder nobody checks anymore.


 There's a psychological phenomenon researchers call "temporal comparison bias" that explains why brilliant educational leaders — people who've built entire programs, navigated accreditation, turned around failing departments — feel perpetually three steps behind.


 Here's how it plays out in real time:


  • Monday, 6:45 AM. You're scrolling LinkedIn before your first meeting. A superintendent three states over just announced a groundbreaking AI initiative. Your immediate thought: We should be doing that. Why aren't we doing that?
  • Tuesday, 2:30 PM. Conference call with peer institutions. Someone mentions their new enrollment strategy showing "promising results." You add "explore enrollment strategy overhaul" to the list of seventeen other things you're currently "exploring."
  • Wednesday, 10:00 AM. Cabinet meeting. Your VP of Academic Affairs wants to discuss three new program launches. Your CFO has concerns about falling behind on facilities. Your Provost is worried about losing ground in faculty development.
  • By Friday, your strategic priorities list has grown from eight items to fourteen. None have moved forward. All are justified by fear of falling further behind.


The institutions you think are "ahead" aren't managing more initiatives better. They're managing fewer with singular focus. That superintendent with the AI initiative? She killed four other initiatives to create space for it.


You're not behind them. You're just carrying different weight. They're running a 5K. You're running a marathon with a 50-pound backpack and wondering why you can't keep pace.


The real problem? You've been optimizing for coverage when you should be optimizing for impact.


Coverage thinking: We need to be doing something in every area — enrollment, retention, innovation, facilities, faculty development, student experience, community engagement, technology, equity.


Impact thinking: What's the one thing that, if we did it exceptionally well, would make everything else easier or unnecessary?


Coverage creates the illusion of progress. Impact creates actual transformation.


(This is exactly why The Team Institute exists — not to add more to your plate, but to help your entire leadership cabinet build the collective capacity to decide what belongs on the plate in the first place.)


The Framework: The Three Games


Call this the Strategic Games Framework. Or don't. It'll still explain why your last strategic plan produced a beautiful document that nobody references six months later.


Every educational institution is playing one of three games. Most don't realize they have a choice. The ones winning? They chose deliberately.


Game 1: The Comparison Game  (Where 70% of leaders live)


Success means keeping pace with everyone else. Winning looks like never falling too far behind the pack. Losing looks exactly the same as winning — just with more anxiety.


Average strategic priorities per institution playing this game: 12 to 18. Average implementation completion rate: 34%. Leadership energy spent managing initiatives vs. actually transforming: 85% management, 15% transformation.


This game is unwinnable. The moment you catch up, the benchmark moves. It's an infinite treadmill where "ahead" doesn't exist — only "less behind." The insidious part? It feels productive. Lots of meetings. Lots of planning. Lots of slide decks. Zero transformation.


Game 2: The Innovation Game  (Where 20% of disruptors live)

Success means being first. Winning looks like conference keynotes and site visits from peer institutions. Losing looks like spectacular failures that become cautionary tales.


The Innovation Game is seductive because it feels like leadership — you're not following, you're pioneering. But here's the trap: innovation without implementation infrastructure creates what I call pilot program purgatory — brilliant ideas that launch with fanfare, then quietly fade when the hard work of institutionalization begins.


8 to 12 new initiatives launched per year. 2 to 3 that survive past Year 2. 60% of cabinet capacity consumed managing "innovation." You're pioneering new approaches faster than your institution can absorb change. It's like trying to teach someone to swim by throwing them in the ocean during a storm. Technically teaching swimming.


Practically creating trauma.


Game 3: The Multiplication Game  (Where the 10% who actually win live)

Success means multiplying what already works. Winning produces consistent, compound growth that looks boring from the outside but transforms everything from the inside.


Your strategy: Subtraction before addition. Multiplication before innovation. Depth before breadth.


The institutions winning this game look unimpressive in conference presentations. No flashy AI initiatives (yet). No radical restructuring (yet). Instead: they took the three things they were already decent at and became exceptional at them. Then they built the capacity to add a fourth.


That sequencing is everything. It's the TQ formula applied to institutional strategy — not scattered individual initiatives, but collective focus that compounds. IQ × EQ × PQ, multiplied at the team level, aimed at three things instead of twenty-three.


The Case Study: Michael's $0 Transformation


Let me tell you about a president I'll call Michael. (Not his real name — but Michael, your former Provost absolutely knows this story is about your first two years together, and she's probably nodding vigorously right now.)


Michael led a regional public university: 11,000 students, seven colleges, a cabinet of 10 VPs averaging 21 years of experience each. Combined credentials that could staff a small think tank. Combined ability to finish what they started? Roughly equivalent to a book club that's been "reading" the same book for three years.


What Michael inherited: 6 major strategic priorities. 23 sub-initiatives. 14 presidential task forces. 8 pilot programs in "evaluation." 147 action items. Zero clear accountability for whether any of it was working.


His first six months were consumed by progress reports: "We had three focus groups." "We're gathering stakeholder input." "We're exploring best practices." Activity everywhere. Impact nowhere.


Then Michael did something radical. He stopped playing the Comparison Game.


He asked his cabinet one question: If we could only do three things exceptionally well over the next two years — three things that would demonstrably transform student outcomes — what would they be?


The room went silent.


His VP of Student Affairs said what everyone was thinking: "Are you saying we stop doing everything else?"


"I'm saying we stop pretending we're doing everything else. Right now, we're doing 23 things at 40% quality. I'm proposing we do 3 things at 95% quality."


Months 1–3: Eliminated 20 of 23 initiatives. Dissolved 11 of 14 task forces. Concentrated resources on three priorities: first-year experience transformation, career-connected learning, and faculty excellence in teaching.


Months 4–12: Meetings dropped from 3.5 hours to 90 minutes. Decision velocity increased 4x. Implementation completion rate went from 34% to 89%.


Year 2 results:


  • First-year retention: +8.7% — largest single-year increase in school history
  • Career placement within 6 months of graduation: +12.3%
  • Faculty teaching excellence scores: +15% across all colleges
  • Cabinet meeting time: cut in half


Leadership team: "Finally feels like we're making progress instead of managing chaos"

Same people. Same budget. Same external constraints. Same competitive environment.


Different game.


If you recognize the gap between your cabinet's talent and what you're actually producing together — and you suspect another individual development program won't close it — this is exactly what The TEAM INSTITUTE was built for. Not a workshop. Not a retreat. An 8-month sequential operating system your entire cabinet builds together, from trust to focused execution, applied to your actual strategic challenges. We don't fix people. We multiply systems. More on that below.


 The Application: Switching Games


 Here's what to do this week — assuming your calendar isn't already booked with meetings about meetings, in which case, that's actually your first problem:


 Step 1: The Brutal Subtraction Audit (90 minutes, next cabinet meeting)

Put every current "strategic priority" on the board. Not just the official ones — the real ones. Every initiative people are actually working on. Every pilot being "evaluated." Every task force meeting monthly.


 Ask three questions about each: Does this produce measurable transformation in student outcomes — not stakeholder engagement, not data gathered, actual outcomes? Are we providing 70% or more of what this initiative actually needs to succeed, or are we setting people up to fail while calling it strategic? And does this build future capacity, or will it always require its own dedicated resources?


Then force rank everything. Not 'these are all important.' Actual forced ranking. Stop at three. Everything below three? Stop doing it. Not 'deprioritize.' Not 'put on hold.' Stop.


(Someone will invoke sunk cost: 'But we've already invested so much in X!' The investment is already gone. The question is whether you keep throwing resources at it. That's not strategy. That's loyalty to a decision that isn't working.)


Step 2: The Capacity Calculation (30 minutes, solo)


For each of your top three priorities, calculate the actual hours per week required — from the leadership team and from implementation teams — multiplied by 42 working weeks. Add all three together.


Do you actually have that capacity, or are you assuming people will "make it work" by eliminating evenings and weekends? If the honest answer is no, you're still in the Addition Game. Reduce scope, eliminate something else, or accept that you're asking people to work unsustainably. Pick one.


Step 3: The Multiplication Protocol (Ongoing)


For the next 90 days, before adding any new initiative, task force, pilot, or "exploration," your cabinet must answer one question: What are we stopping to create space for this? Not "we'll find time." An actual answer. If you can't name what you're stopping, you can't start the new thing.


Track two numbers: addition-to-subtraction ratio (1:1 or better means you're in the Multiplication Game) and implementation completion rate (below 50% means scattered attention producing scattered results; 80%+ means you've actually switched games).


 On the Objections:


 "But our board expects us to address all of these areas."


Your board expects outcomes, not activity reports. What would happen if you walked in with this: "We focused all our capacity on three priorities. First-year retention is up 8.7%. Career placement is up 12.3%. Faculty excellence scores are up 15%." Boards don't micromanage success. They micromanage stagnation. Produce compound results and they stop asking why you're not doing more.


The Maturity Shift


 On priorities: "We need to be doing more to stay competitive." → "We need to be doing less, exceptionally well, to actually transform."


On activity: Confuses meetings completed with momentum. → Measures transformation produced, not initiatives launched.


On the competition: Watches what peers are doing and adds to the list. → Watches what's working internally and multiplies it.


On capacity: Assumes "we'll find time." Burns people out. Repeats. → Calculates actual capacity. Subtracts before adding. Compounds.


You're not behind. You've been playing the wrong game. The Multiplication Game is harder to start — subtracting things you've invested in, having honest conversations about actual capacity, saying no to things that matter — but it's infinitely more sustainable.


And the institutions winning it? They look boring from the outside and transformational from the inside.


Your Turn:


Which game is your cabinet actually playing? Drop one word in the comments: COMPARISON, INNOVATION, or MULTIPLICATION.


Then tag a cabinet member who you think would answer differently than you would. That gap in perception? That's the data.


Or screenshot the three game descriptions and text them to your leadership team with one question: "Which game are we actually playing right now?"


Ready to Stop Playing Catch-Up?


 Here's what I know after studying 987 leadership teams across 43 states: the cabinet that can't agree on three priorities isn't struggling with strategy. It's struggling with trust. Without trust, subtraction conversations become political. Capacity calculations become weaponized. Forced ranking becomes a turf war.


That's why the Multiplication Game isn't something you implement from a newsletter. You need your entire cabinet in the room, building the same foundation, in sequence — not a two-day retreat you'll never quite finish, but a sustained developmental arc that actually rewires how your team thinks together.


That's what The TEAM INSTITUTE was built to do.


The TEAM INSTITUTE is an 8-month journey that takes your cabinet from individually brilliant to collectively unstoppable — sequentially, through trust, empowerment, collaboration, and focused execution, each month building on the last. You can't skip trust and go straight to strategy. That's not leadership development. That's wishful thinking with a facilitator.


The results from teams that complete the full sequence: 3x performance improvement. 29% higher engagement. 27% better organizational outcomes. Zero burnout increase. Not because we fixed anyone — because we changed the system they were operating in.


The requirement is simple and non-negotiable: full cabinet participation. Partial engagement produces partial results. You cannot build team-level multiplication with individual-level development. That's the model that got you here.


If you're a leader who sees the gap between your cabinet's talent and your collective results — and you're ready to stop treating that gap as a motivation problem — let's talk.


Schedule a 30-minute consultation to explore whether The Team Institute is the right fit for your leadership context. This isn't a sales pitch. It's a conversation between people who refuse to accept that "busy" and "effective" mean the same thing.


 [LEARN MORE]


higherperformancegroup.com


[SCHEDULE CONSULTATION]


Found value in this? Help other educational leaders find it:


→ Repost with your honest answer — which game is your cabinet actually playing?

→ Tag a leader who's exhausted from the Addition Game and ready to switch

→ Comment with the one initiative you know you should stop but haven't — naming it is the first step



The more leaders who shift from addition to multiplication, the better our educational systems become.


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


Next issue:


"Your Cabinet Mistakes Consensus for Alignment (And It's Killing Every Decision)"


We'll explore why your leadership team spends three meetings nodding in agreement, then fragments in seventeen different directions the moment they leave the room.


Spoiler: You don't have an alignment problem. You have a 'we've never actually defined what alignment means' problem. And the text messages your VPs send each other after cabinet meetings? Those are where your real strategic plan lives.


Dr. Joe Hill | Higher Performance Group | The Team Institute

higherperformancegroup.com


Help Spread the Word

If you found value in this post, we’d love your help spreading the word! Please consider sharing this on your favorite social media platform and tag Higher Performance Group and Dr. Joe Hill. Your support helps us reach and inspire more awesome people like you!

Like What You've Read?


Get practical, research-based ideas to Accelerate Higher Team Performance delivered straight to your inbox every Tuesday.

More Blog Articles

By HPG Info • October 20, 2026
Your cabinet is running on countdown math. The leaders who last the longest stopped counting. Sometime this week, in a cabinet meeting somewhere, a smart and decent leader said the most common sentence in American education: "We just have to get to Thanksgiving." On campus it's "We just have to get through census day." Anyone who has sat in the chair has said some version of it. There's an old story from the prisoner-of-war camps in Vietnam. The men who told themselves, "We'll be out by Christmas," often didn't make it. Christmas came and went, then Easter, then another Christmas, and each missed date took something out of them that never came back. The men who held up best had stopped setting dates. They built their days around what they could do inside the walls, and then they did it again the next day. Your district office is not a prison camp. (Though some of you have sat through a budget work session that came close.) The pattern underneath is the same, and it's quietly running most of the cabinets I work with. We've tied our people's energy, morale, and sense of meaning to finish lines we don't control. Below: why arrival never feels the way it was promised, what one prisoner did every morning for seven years that kept him whole, and a two-minute test that tells you whether your team's biggest initiative is still alive. THE DIAGNOSIS · THE FINISH-LINE ECONOMY Count the "just get to" sentences your team says in a normal year. August to Thanksgiving is about 13 weeks. Then four weeks to winter break, roughly 11 to spring break, six to state testing, and six more to June. That's 40 weeks. You've scheduled the entire year as a waiting room. Higher ed runs the same clock under different names: census day, the deposit deadline, the legislative session, the accreditation visit, commencement. The vocabulary changes. The countdown stays. Inside the cabinet it sounds like this. "Once the strategic plan is adopted, things will settle down." "After November, we can finally breathe." "When the new provost starts, the academic side will calm down." Every one of those sentences borrows today's energy against a date that a voter, a search committee, a legislature, or an accreditor controls. Call it the Finish-Line Economy. A cabinet runs its morale on credit and promises to pay it back on arrival. Arrival never pays in full. People are wired to feel a short burst of joy at a win and then drift back to baseline. Olympic gold medalists are the famous case: a striking number fall into depression within weeks of the podium, because the moment they chased for years lasted about a week. (Your referendum passing is not the Olympics. The Wednesday after looks surprisingly similar.) So the finish line comes, the cabinet exhales for a few days, and someone sets the next one. If you're honest, the last three finish lines you crossed probably didn't feel the way you were promised. We also measure what's easy to measure: the vote, the census count, the test scores, the dashboard. Process doesn't fit on a dashboard, so it gets cut first, even though it's where the learning, the judgment, and most of the joy actually come from. Here's the part that should worry every campus leader. Happiness is easy to mistake for a feeling. Feelings are only the evidence. Underneath, well-being research finds three things you can measure and get better at: enjoyment, satisfaction, and meaning. Among adults under 35, enjoyment and satisfaction haven't dropped. Meaning has cratered. Those are your newest teachers, your youngest faculty, your rising principals and associate deans. Fun was never their complaint. They want to know why the work matters, and a countdown can't tell them. I know the loneliness of being the one who sets the countdown. Everyone in the room is watching you to find out when it gets better, and you're running out of dates. (This is the gap THE TEAM INSTITUTE was built to close. Most leadership development hands the top leader a sharper plan for the next finish line. Across 987 leadership teams , the cabinets that held up under pressure built something different: a shared way of working that makes the work matter on an ordinary Tuesday, whatever the vote or the enrollment number did. A team can learn that. It takes eight months of practice, and I'll come back to it at the end.) TQ IMPLICATION → Finish lines are an IQ product. A smart team can always produce a better plan with a better date on it. Meaning comes from the other two factors. EQ is the shared language that lets a team make sense of a hard week together. PQ is the perceptual accuracy to notice when the room has gone quiet behind the slide deck. TQ = IQ × EQ × PQ. Let meaning drift toward zero and every new plan multiplies into another countdown. So what do the teams that hold up actually do differently? Four things, and none of them requires a retreat. THE FRAMEWORK · COUNT REPS, NOT DAYS Call this Count Reps, Not Days. It moves a cabinet's energy off dates it can't control and back onto work it can. You can teach it to your team in a minute: set a heading, own the reps, name the why, get curious about the detour. 1. Set a heading. Let go of the date. Sailors plot a rhumb line, a straight course from harbor to destination. Every sailor also knows the boat won't stay on it. Wind and current push you off all day, and the line still matters, because it tells you which way to correct. A goal does the same job for a cabinet. "Pass the referendum" is a hope with a date attached. "Hold 40 listening sessions across every attendance area by February" is a heading your team controls. Keep the aim, and stop treating arrival as the reward. (This is why your strategic plan has a gorgeous vision page and a Gantt chart nobody has opened since the board adopted it.) 2. Own the reps. Here's the prisoner I promised you. Facing years as a political prisoner, he made three commitments before he turned himself in. Every day he would do something for his body, something for his mind, and something for his spirit. He prayed with gratitude for whatever was in front of him that day, a strip of sky through the window, a bird going past, and stopped praying for release. He served seven years, much of it in solitary confinement, and walked out without lasting trauma. Prisoners around him who had pinned their hope to a release date were broken by it. A cabinet's reps are smaller and just as daily. One honest debrief after every board meeting. One conversation a week about a decision that went wrong, held before anyone assigns blame. One teaching rep, where a cabinet member walks the team through something they're still learning. (Reps are also the first thing cut from a busy agenda, right after professional development.) Reps do something else most leaders never think about. Your gut is stored experience: every hard call, every mistake, every recovery, filed somewhere below words. Skip the struggle, hand it to a consultant or a chatbot, and ten years later the shelves are empty. Process is what fills the gut your board is paying for. 3. Name the why, out loud, every week. Meaning has three parts. Coherence is understanding why things happen the way they do. Purpose is knowing where you're headed. Significance is knowing why any of it matters. Countdown cabinets talk almost entirely about purpose: timelines, deliverables, dates. Coherence and significance get skipped because nobody put them on the agenda. That's exactly where your under-35 staff are starving, and if we're being candid, so is your cabinet. Ask anyone about the project they loved most in their career. Almost nobody names the biggest win. They name something that may not have worked at all, where a group of people threw themselves at a hard thing together. People remember the doing, with each other, long after they forget the result. 4. Get curious about the detour. When something goes off plan, cabinets tend to say one of two things. "Oh no." Or, "Huh. What's this, and what can we make of it?" The second response is curiosity, and it's far more teachable than most leaders assume. Somewhere between 40 and 80 percent of our emotional wiring is inherited, which leaves 20 to 60 percent shaped by environment. In a cabinet, the top leader sets most of that environment. It helps to treat bad feelings as signals. Fear, anger, and sadness are your brain flagging a threat. They aren't verdicts. And we learn very little when things go well. Nearly all of it comes when they go badly. Zoom out and the pattern gets stronger. Adults go through a major unplanned disruption, a lost job or a lost person or a sudden move, roughly every five years. More than nine in ten people experience it as unwelcome while it's happening and later call it beneficial. Think of a college freshman's first semester: lonely and miserable in real time, and the thing they laugh about at every reunion. The in-between stretch, when the old thing is gone and the new one hasn't arrived, is the most fertile learning time you'll ever get. Most of us spend it waiting for it to be over. THE SEAT YOU'RE IN · TREAT IT AS SCHOOL One more thing before Monday, and this part is for you, not your cabinet. Most careers aren't a ladder. They're a string of four or five distinct careers, and most of us never get told that. When leaders start wondering what's next, they usually ask, "What am I already good at?" That question leads to reapplying old skills in a new building, which feels safe and often goes flat. The better question is, "What am I most interested in?" Interest almost never fails you. Getting there may mean going backward for a while on title, salary, or prestige. Call that tuition. Every step sideways is a return to school, and the leaders who reinvent well are the ones who can enjoy being a beginner again. Some leaders between seats do something older than any search firm. They walk. A long walk, days or weeks, with no agenda except the question. People have done it for thousands of years for a reason: the answer usually shows up on the trail. The same principle builds better cabinets. Nobody is interested in everything. Put people where their interest lives, and let the team cover each other's blind spots. The rules for how to succeed were written for an average person, and there isn't one. That's PQ at its most practical: seeing your people clearly enough to seat them where they come alive. MONDAY MORNING Here's what to do Monday (assuming you're not already counting down to Friday, in which case, start Tuesday): Step 1: Run the Countdown Audit (10 minutes, on your own). Write down every "once X happens" sentence you or your cabinet has said in the last month. Mark each one C if your team controls the date, or H if you're hoping someone else delivers it. If most of the list is H, your team's morale is on loan from people who don't attend your meetings. Step 2: Take the 80-20-0 Reading (15 minutes, next cabinet meeting). This is the test I mentioned at the top. Name your biggest current initiative. Ask each cabinet member to privately write three numbers that add to 100: excitement, fear, and deadness. Deadness is the hollow feeling of picturing two more years of this work and feeling nothing. A healthy reading for anything worth doing lands near 80 excitement, 20 fear, and zero deadness. Some fear is good news, since it means the thing could fail and therefore matters. If fear runs high, your team needs support. If deadness shows up for more than two people, you have a meaning problem, and no new timeline will fix it. (Collect the cards face down. Otherwise you'll get eight copies of whatever the boss wrote.) Step 3: Turn one finish line into a heading (20 minutes). Take one H item from Step 1. Rewrite it as a heading your team controls, then name two weekly reps and who owns each. Open the next meeting by naming the thing on this week's calendar nobody is looking forward to, and what it might teach you. Close it with "why this week mattered." "Our board measures outcomes, not process." Of course it does. Keeping score is the board's job. Yours is running the practice that moves the score, and practice is the only part of the season you actually control. "This sounds soft for the year we're having." A hard year is exactly when finish lines fail you. If the vote, the enrollment number, or the legislature goes the wrong way, a countdown cabinet has nothing left. A cabinet with reps still has Monday. THE MATURITY SHIFT Immature leaders think: "We'll feel better once we get through this." Mature leaders think: "We'll get through this by what we practice every week." Immature leaders set dates they don't control. Mature leaders set headings and own the reps. Immature leaders hear "oh no." Mature leaders ask "what's this?" Immature leaders save meaning for the celebration. Mature leaders put it on Monday's agenda. ❝ A finish line gives your team one good week. A practice gives them the other fifty-one. ❞ ❝ You can't schedule being alive for later. Monday is the only one you've got. ❞ Your turn. What's the "once we get through ___" sentence your cabinet has been saying the longest, and what has the waiting cost you? Put it in the comments. Someone reading this is counting down to the same date. FROM DR. JOE One question before you go. When your cabinet crosses its next finish line, what do you expect to feel the week after? If you've been in the chair a while, you already know. A few days of relief, then the next date shows up and the team starts borrowing against it again. How long has your cabinet been running on that cycle? And what happens to your best people, especially the ones under 35, if the only answer you can give to "why does this matter?" is a date on the calendar? That gap compounds quietly. Strong directors drift toward places that can answer the question. The top leader ends up carrying the meaning alone, and the countdown gets lonelier every year. Now picture the other version. Your cabinet still cares about the vote and the enrollment number, and it has built weekly practices that make the work matter on an ordinary Tuesday. When the finish line moves, that team corrects course and keeps its heart. That's the cabinet THE TEAM INSTITUTE builds over eight months, one practice at a time, grounded in the TQ research behind IQ × EQ × PQ across 987 leadership teams in 43 states: 📈 3x performance improvement 🤝 29% higher engagement 🎯 27% better organizational outcomes 🧭 Zero increase in burnout You don't have to commit to eight months to learn where your team stands. The Team Intelligence Assessment shows how your cabinet thinks, decides, and perceives together, including where meaning is leaking out between the dates. It may tell you you're in good shape. That's worth knowing too. Would it help to see it before your next finish line arrives? Start here: https://www.higherperformancegroup.com/team-intelligence-assessment And if this one landed, pass it to a peer who's counting down to the same date. Repost it with your own "once we get through" sentence, or tag the cabinet member who always asks why. They should know you noticed.  Follow DR. JOE HILL and Higher Performance Group .
By HPG Info • October 13, 2026
Eight principles from superintendents and college presidents across eight states on leading through hard seasons, choosing the right seat, and staying grounded as pressure builds. On October 7, superintendents and college presidents from Alabama, Arizona, California, Michigan, Minnesota, Missouri, Ohio, and Washington gave an hour of the busiest month of the fall to a question most leaders carry alone: What do builders do when the season gets hard? The session was planned around a framework. The room turned it into something closer to group counsel. Leaders in strong seasons stayed to hear from leaders in harder ones, and leaders who had come through a hard stretch explained how they did it. The hour produced eight practical principles worth sharing with others in the same good fight. This paper records what they built: eight principles, the evidence behind each one, and a question for every cabinet in the country to take into its next meeting. EXECUTIVE SUMMARY The superintendency and the college presidency are carrying more weight than at any point in a generation. Superintendent turnover sits well above pre-pandemic norms. The average presidency is nearly three years shorter than it was in 2006. More than one in three superintendents report recent threats. Under that weight, the biggest decisions of a career (stay, step, or leave) usually get made alone, inside the hardest weeks, with nobody checking the read. HPG calls this the Lonely Leader Loop. It's a flaw in how the seat is built, and the roundtable exists to break it. The room produced eight principles: See below. THE CONTEXT · A PROFESSION CARRYING MORE WEIGHT 23% of the nation's 500 largest districts changed superintendents in a single recent year, against a pre-pandemic norm of 14 to 16% 5.9 years is the average college presidency, down from 8.5 in 2006 1 in 3+ superintendents in a national survey said they had recently been threatened or felt threatened 63% said they or people close to them were increasingly worried about superintendents' well-being Resignation is now the largest single category of superintendent departure. Some of those exits are the right call. What concerns me is how the call gets made: at 11:40 on a Sunday night, alone, with the board packet open. From the inside, a hard season and a wrong seat feel identical. You're tired, your patience runs short, and Sunday night starts around 2 p.m. on Saturday. They call for opposite responses. A hard season asks for patience and support. A wrong seat asks for redesign. I know that night from the inside. In 2013, a year after my own superintendency was running at a five, a new board majority and a pulmonary embolism arrived in the same season. My doctor told me I should not have survived. When I recovered, I rode a bicycle around Lake Superior, against medical advice, stopping at every campus and district office along the way to ask what they were proud of. I called it the Persuade Me Tour. I needed someone to persuade me the work was still worth my life. They did. The conversations that started on that ride became THE PROOF, a keynote built on nearly 200 on-camera interviews with K-12 and higher education leaders. It names ten traits of a Builder. The October roundtable worked the first one: telling a hard season from the wrong seat. We opened with a pulse check. On a fist-to-five scale, from a fist for a season knocking the floorboards out to five for never better, most hands showed a mix of responses. That detail matters. Groups of educators tend to gather around the ones and twos, and that empathy, useful for a moment, can keep a colleague in the hole longer. So the room named its good seasons without apology. Then the leaders in strong seasons spent the hour making the path clearer for everyone else. (That is a fair description of what a Builder does.) TQ IMPLICATION → When the season gets hard, most leaders reach for IQ: one more plan, one more credential. The room reached for the other two factors. EQ is the grace to sit with a shortfall without turning it into blame. PQ is the perceptual accuracy to tell a season from a seat, which almost nobody can do alone from inside one. TQ = IQ × EQ × PQ. Let perception drift toward zero and all the intelligence in the building multiplies into a confident wrong answer. (A quick word before the principles. How much of what makes a seat feel wrong comes from a cabinet that passes the weight upward? Across 987 leadership teams, I've watched that pattern make a good leader in the right seat feel like they're in the wrong one. THE TEAM INSTITUTE spends eight months building the other kind of cabinet, one that sees the whole board together. Plenty of seats that feel wrong are simply lonely, and a team can fix lonely.) THE EIGHT PRINCIPLES The roundtable runs on one rule: ideas leave the room, stories stay in it. The principles below are reported without attribution. Leaders quoted by name are speaking from on-camera interviews they recorded for THE PROOF. 01 · A Bad Season Is Not a Bad Calling The first principle came straight from the session question. A hard season and a wrong fit produce the same symptoms: exhausted, discouraged, done. Leaders described how hard it is to tell the two apart from inside the worst week, and how much it helps to say it out loud to someone who has been there. Dr. Rick Cobb , superintendent of Mid-Del Public Schools in the Oklahoma City metro, described a year on THE PROOF that tested him harder than 2020 did. He made no permanent decision from inside it. He stayed, and the year that followed became one of the best of his career. ❝ "The yuck never lasts. When I go, I want to go out on a YUM of a year." ❞ — Dr. Rick Cobb What the evidence adds. Chronic exhaustion tracks a mismatch between a person and the job across six areas: workload, control, reward, community, fairness, and values. Long hours alone predict it far less well. A hard season usually shows strain in one or two areas that can be expected to ease. A wrong seat shows a persistent gap in values or control that rest will not close. For your cabinet: Which of the six areas is carrying the strain on your team right now, and is it the kind that eases or the kind that stays? 02 · The Intentional Step The room spent real time on a move most leaders never consider: stepping sideways, or down a rung, to reach work that fits. Conventional career advice treats a smaller title as a setback. Leaders who had made the move described it as the turning point. They were candid about why it's hard: the blow to the ego, the worry about what colleagues will think, the stretch of not knowing what comes next. Several said the deciding voice belonged to someone close to them who reminded them the choice was bigger than one job or one place. Dr. Amy Diaz, EdD , president of GateWay Community College in Phoenix, told me on camera for THE PROOF that twenty-two years into her career, she recognized her role no longer fit her calling. She stayed in the field, stepped off the ladder, and moved into a different corner of the institution. That step sideways carried her to a presidency faster than the ladder would have. What the evidence adds. Research on professionals who reinvent their careers finds that successful moves rarely follow a plan worked out in advance. People test possible selves through small experiments, new networks, and roles that look like detours, and the new identity becomes clear in the doing. When the calling is intact and the gap is in the seat, a different seat in the same field is often the fix. For your cabinet: Who on your team is in the wrong seat in the right field, and what would a lateral move look like for them? 03 · Performance = Potential − Interference This equation anchors HPG's work. When things get hard, leaders load up on potential: a new initiative, a wider network, another credential. (This is how a strategic plan ends up with four new priorities and zero retirements.) Far less effort goes into naming the friction that drains the week and removing it. The room sharpened the point. Some interference can be mitigated and some cannot. A problem can be solved. A situation can't. Mortality is a situation, and a stakeholder fixed in permanent opposition may be one too. Treating a situation as a problem burns the energy a leader needs for the problems that will actually move. When a leader has done everything in their power and the interference still won't move, the question changes: is my staying helping this institution, or costing it? What the evidence adds. Decades of performance-coaching research point the same direction: removing what blocks people from capability they already have produces larger gains than stacking new capability on top of unresolved friction. Design researchers have a name for the unsolvable kind, gravity problems. When an obstacle can't be acted on, the advice is to accept it as a fact of life and move the effort elsewhere. For your cabinet: List the three biggest sources of friction in your week. Which are problems you can solve, and which are situations you need to stop trying to fix? 04 · Grace Belongs in the Equation A participant added a term the equation leaves out. Leaders who see the gap between their potential and their results need to extend grace to themselves first, then to their teams: sit with the shortfall, accept it, then line everyone back up for students and community. Grace is a discipline a leader practices personally before asking a team to practice it. The room drew a second implication. Every leader at that table makes decisions that change the season of someone else's career. The person who loses a role this year may be leading a campus or a district in ten. Hearing peers describe the decisions that shaped their own careers was, several said, a reminder to keep the human side in view when they are the ones deciding. What the evidence adds. In controlled experiments, people who responded to a failure with self-compassion were more motivated to improve, studied longer after a failed test, and were more committed to repairing a mistake than those who responded with self-criticism. The broader research links self-compassion to resilience without any drop in standards. Grace keeps people in the work long enough to get better at it. For your cabinet: When your team missed its last big target, what did you model first: grace or blame? 05 · A Calling Removes the Need to Prove The word vocation comes from the Latin vocare, to call. Don Killingbeck Jr., C.D.L., Ed.D. , superintendent of Hemlock Public Schools in Michigan, describes his work on THE PROOF as a calling and names what a calling lifts off a leader: the question of what you are trying to prove. Dr. John J. Sygielski 🏳️🌈 , president emeritus of HACC, Central Pennsylvania's Community College, describes the work as changing lives, destinies, and family trees. Nobody performs for a room when they are thinking about family trees. Several leaders described choosing education over more lucrative or prestigious paths, sometimes against the expectations of the people who raised them. Their stories differed. Their conclusion matched: the work pays in the difference it makes, and that payment keeps them in it. I offered the room a distinction between the "me" and the "I." The "me" is shaped by role, upbringing, hometown, and the power structure: where to sit, who to talk to, how to win. The "I" is the self that was called to the work in the first place. Every leader in these seats plays the "me" some, because the work is political. The more often the "I" makes the call, the more freedom leaders report. What the evidence adds. People who see their work as a calling report the highest life and work satisfaction and miss the fewest days of work, even compared with colleagues in the same occupation and pay grade. The risk runs the other way too. A leader who reads a bad season as proof the calling was wrong can walk away from the very orientation that was protecting them. For your cabinet: Which of your current decisions is the "me" making, and what would the "I" decide? 06 · Leave on Your Own Terms Every leader in these seats will leave one day. The room made the case that the how and the when should be the leader's decision as often as possible. An exit can be planned, negotiated, announced in the leader's own words, and handed off with care. Leaders who had done it described relief more than loss, and a stronger position for whatever came next. That choice depends on preparation made years earlier. Advice from a state association mentor, relayed in the room, drew nods all around: pay down debt and build savings early, because boards change and people at home depend on you. A leader who can afford to walk away is free to make the right decision for students while staying. What the evidence adds. Public-sector leaders have a specific advantage. Distributions from a governmental 457(b) plan after separation from the employer are not subject to the 10% additional tax on early withdrawals that applies to 403(b) and 401(k) plans before age 59½. Every leader should consult their own advisors, and the principle holds: financial readiness turns a forced exit into a chosen one. How a leader leaves, and who tells the story, shapes the next role and the institution left behind. For your cabinet: If you had to leave your seat in 90 days, would it be on your terms? What would need to be true for the answer to be yes? 07 · Keep Your Grounding When the Culture Won't Leaders across the country face two pressures that test their footing. The first comes from outside: anonymous public attacks, increasingly assisted by AI, that repackage an institution's own public data to suggest wrongdoing. Strong results offer little protection. The second comes from inside. Long-standing adult habits can drift from the standard a little each year until nobody notices anymore, because it has always been done that way. A leader who names the drift can start to feel like the one who has it wrong. The room's answer to both was the same. Control what you can control. Find a reference point outside the system (a peer, a state association, a coach) who will tell you plainly whether what you're seeing is normal. And remember that protecting students is part of the job. What the evidence adds. Studies of high-stakes organizational failures describe a pattern called normalization of deviance: people inside an organization gradually accept a practice that falls outside the standard because nothing bad has happened yet, until the deviation becomes the standard. Insiders often can't see it, which is why an outsider's reaction matters. National survey data also shows more than half of superintendents reporting more contentious board meetings. Leaders facing this pressure are part of a documented national pattern. For your cabinet: Who outside your organization will tell you the truth when your own culture has started to normalize something it shouldn't? 08 · The Job and the Role I closed with a distinction for leaders weighing whether to stay. The job of a superintendent or president is to make great decisions. The role is culture builder: forging the principles an institution lives by, grounded in a demanding kind of love that fights for the greatest good of everyone the institution serves. If you're driving the right culture forward, press on, hard season and all. If the same interference blocks the role again and again, and the only reason left to stay is a pension milestone, the question becomes: what is it all worth? Leaders who answer that honestly and act on the answer are what I call liberated leaders. Dr. Will Darter, Ed.D , superintendent of Everton R-III Schools in Missouri, put the answer most of us are hoping for in one line on THE PROOF. ❝ "We continuously and relentlessly believe in people. We believe in the places folks forget about. That's where we're called as leaders." ❞ — Dr. Will Darter For your cabinet: Where is your role as culture builder blocked right now, and is it blocked by a problem or a situation? WHAT THIS ROOM DID DIFFERENTLY · FIVE PRACTICES WORTH COPYING They named a good season out loud. Leaders in strong seasons used that stability to listen to peers in harder ones. They tested the diagnosis before acting. Leaders who had come through hard seasons described waiting, testing, and talking it through before making a permanent move. They sorted problems from situations. Energy went to what could be solved. What couldn't be solved was named and set down. They prepared for the exit long before they needed it. Debt paid down, savings built, and a transition planned in their own words. They looked outside for a reality check. Peers outside the system confirmed what a leader inside it was seeing. IMPLICATIONS · BEYOND THE ROOM For superintendents and presidents. Make no permanent decision from inside the worst month. Name your season out loud to one trusted peer first, and build the financial runway that keeps every option yours. For cabinets. A cabinet that can talk about seasons openly, good ones included, gives its leader the perceptual check no individual can supply alone. That is PQ at work, and it is a team capacity before it is a personal one. For boards and trustees. A board that treats a candid conversation about a hard season as a resignation risk teaches its leader to stop having candid conversations. Stability in the top seat starts with a leader who can say "this is a hard season" out loud without it becoming the story. A 35-MINUTE PROTOCOL FOR MONDAY Step 1: Run a fist-to-five (5 minutes, next cabinet meeting). Ask everyone to show where their season stands. Name the fours and fives first. Then meet the ones and twos with grace before plans. (If every hand shows a five in October, somebody isn't telling you something.) Step 2: Run three sorts on your heaviest strain (20 minutes, on your own). Ease or stay? Problem or situation? Me or I? Strain that will ease, problems you can solve, and a choice the "I" would make all point to a season. A persistent gap in values or control, a situation you keep trying to fix, and a choice the "me" is driving deserve a longer conversation with someone outside your walls. Step 3: Calculate your freedom runway (10 minutes, at home). Divide your accessible savings by one month of household expenses. That number is how many months you could go without this paycheck. Then ask whether that number lets you make the right decision for students while you stay. THE MATURITY SHIFT Immature leaders think: "This month is the verdict on my career." Mature leaders think: "This month is data, and I'll read it with someone who's been there." Immature leaders add when it gets hard. Mature leaders subtract first. Immature leaders let the "me" protect the title. Mature leaders let the "I" choose the seat. Immature leaders carry the season alone so nobody worries. Mature leaders let someone outside the walls check the read. ❝ The worst year of a career can sit one year before the best one. Don't let the worst month write the ending. ❞ Your turn. What did the hardest season of your career teach you that the best one never could? Tell us in the comments. Someone reading this in their own hard October needs proof that seasons end. FROM DR. JOE Who do you call when the season gets hard? I mean someone outside your system who has sat in the same chair and will tell you plainly whether what you're seeing is normal. For a lot of leaders the honest answer is nobody, and that gap gets more expensive every year. The pressure from outside is louder. The drift inside is quieter. A leader standing in both can't see either one clearly. What does it cost to make a permanent decision on a read nobody else has checked? Picture the other version: a small table of peers who know the weight without being told, where leaders in strong seasons stay to hear from leaders in harder ones. That's what happened on October 7. The next Peer-to-Peer Leadership Roundtable meets January 6, 2027 , continuing THE PROOF's ten Builder traits. One hour, peers only, capped at 25 seats. You don't need to be in a hard season to come. Some of October's most valuable voices belonged to the fours. Save your seat: https://www.higherperformancegroup.com/p2p-page If this paper helped, pass it to one superintendent or president who should be at that table, and tag a leader above to thank them for the hour they gave. P.S. This month I'm kicking off Operation 100 PROOF: 100 THE PROOF talks on campuses and at conferences over the next 12 months. If a room comes to mind (an opening-day crowd, a board retreat, a state association conference), message me directly or email info@higherperfromancegroup.com . Follow DR. JOE HILL and Higher Performance Group . Data note: Figures are drawn from national superintendent and college president research cited in HPG's October 2026 Executive Brief, Season or Seat. Full sources are available on request.
Show More