Acknowledging Something Isn’t the Same as Removing It
Somewhere along the way, “communication problem” became the junk drawer of leadership. You know the drawer. The one that holds every pen you own, your kid’s retainer from junior high, keys you can’t identify, and enough rubber bands and paper clips to make a continuous connection between the Pacific and the Atlantic. Something’s not working, so it goes in the drawer, gets the label, and we shut it before anything falls out.
It’s a convenient diagnosis. Convenient because it points outward. If it’s a communication problem, then somebody didn’t explain it well enough, or somebody didn’t listen well enough, and either way, that somebody probably isn’t me. I get to be the guy trying to lead well while everyone around me fumbles the handoff. Good guy. Bad communicators. Case closed.
Except most of the time, it isn’t closed. It’s just labeled and shoved back in.
The Move
Years ago, I worked at a company where we made the decision to consolidate two office locations back into one. Good call, honestly. We brought the right people into the room early. We built a realistic timeline. We mostly hit the deadline, slipped a little, nothing that cost us anything that mattered. The move delivered exactly what we hoped it would.
Here’s what I didn’t weigh enough going in. When we first moved this part of the business into the satellite location, the group moving in were under the impression that folks from the main office would come help get things set up. That didn’t happen the way they anticipated. Their fear going into the move back was that the whole thing would fall to them again. On top of that, the organization was already worn thin. There were challenges, some of them cultural at the time, a few people who made things harder than they needed to be, and, in general, the emotional tank was running low before we ever brought up the move.
At the kickoff, I acknowledged all of that. Out loud, in the room, I named the history and the fatigue. It was a great kickoff. (I almost hurt myself trying to pat myself on the back for being so aware and being such a good communicator.) But acknowledging something isn’t the same as removing it. It only addresses it. The concern was still sitting there. Now it had a checkmark next to it in my head.
A few weeks later, in smaller one-on-one conversations, when tired people were telling me this was a lot to carry on top of everything else, voicing the concern that, in my head, already had a checkmark, my instinct wasn’t to ask why it kept resurfacing. My instinct was to explain again. Reframe it a little differently depending on who was in front of me. Make the case better this time. More words, aimed at convincing instead of understanding.
I wasn’t out to run anybody over. I just wanted to be helpful and right… at the same time. I figured more words could get me both. What I was actually doing was treating a feeling as if it were a misunderstanding. It wasn’t. They understood exactly what I was asking. They just didn’t feel heard.
Acknowledging something once doesn’t remove it. It only addresses it. I know that now. I didn’t fully know it then.
If you call a plumber because sewage is leaking onto your bathroom floor, you don’t want him to acknowledge the problem. You want him to fix it.
Somewhere Else, Same Shape
I’ve since watched this play out somewhere else. Different setting, different people, same underlying issue.
Two leaders, both good at their jobs, found themselves in real friction. One thrives in fast-moving, high-pressure problem-solving. Very good in that seat, a capable leader. The other wanted more clarity before acting, wanted to know whether a conversation was a discussion or a decision before the room moved.
Neither of them called it what it actually was. Both reached for “communication.” One thought, “they don’t understand.” The other thought, “they don’t communicate well.”
Underneath the label, a few real things were happening. Nobody had agreed on who actually owned a given decision, so meetings that felt like brainstorming to one person felt like marching orders to the other. A real strength, thriving in chaos, showed up as a problem for someone who needed steadier ground, when it was really just a mismatch in operating style. And a concern that had been raised more than once kept getting acknowledged and then quietly re-shelved, until the leader on the receiving end started looking for a way out instead of a way through.
Not a communication problem. Unclear ownership. A style mismatch nobody named out loud. A concern that got addressed instead of resolved.
Both Things Are True
I want to be careful here, because it would be easy to read all of this as “leadership is just one long string of failures I didn’t see coming.” That’s not it, and it’s not honest either. I spend a good amount of time sharing mistakes I’ve made and that I’ve learned from. But even amongst those mistakes, there are wins. There are successes. If you’re a leader, you will make mistakes, even when “the project was a success.”
The warehouse move worked. We accomplished what we set out to do. The company was better for it. I can hold that as true and still hold this as true: I left something on the table. I could have had the win and also given people the chance to feel heard on their way into it. Those aren’t in competition with each other. I just didn’t do the second one.
That’s the real move, I think. Not “I got this wrong,” but “I could have done this, plus the thing I left on the table.” Every leader I respect carries both of those at once. Wins that are real. Blind spots that are also real.
Your Turn
Think of a recent moment where you or someone near you called something a “communication problem.” What might it actually have been, unclear ownership, a mismatch in how people operate, or a concern that got acknowledged once and never actually resolved?
Is there a concern on your team right now that’s been acknowledged but not removed? What would it look like to bring it back up on purpose, instead of waiting for it to resurface on its own?
Where have you addressed something once and quietly assumed it was settled, when it might still be very much alive for someone else?
“Communication problem” is often the label we reach for when the real one requires more of us. Unclear ownership. A mismatch nobody named. A concern we addressed once and quietly filed away. None of those go away just because we called them something easier.
Acknowledging something doesn’t remove it. It only addresses it. The removing part is still ours to do.
Be Encouraged.
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