You’re three hours into a strategy meeting. The room is full of smart people. The whiteboard is covered in frameworks. And nobody can agree on what you’re actually trying to solve.
This isn’t a failure of intelligence. It’s a failure of method.
You’re three hours into a strategy meeting. The room is full of smart people. The whiteboard is covered in frameworks. And nobody can agree on what you’re actually trying to solve.
This isn’t a failure of intelligence. It’s a failure of method.
Executives keep asking me the same question: if we automate away the boring work, will our people lose their creative edge? I understand the concern. A recent Wall Street Journal article captured it perfectly, arguing that delegating mundane tasks to AI eliminates the very boredom that sparks creativity. Fewer dull moments means fewer breakthroughs.
AI is impressive. It’s fast, tireless, and increasingly capable. But we’ve gotten sloppy about what it can’t do, and what humans are quietly abandoning.
Here’s the uncomfortable truth about AI readiness: Most businesses aren’t asking if they’re ready. They’re asking if they can keep avoiding it.
Focus isn’t what you think it is. It’s not concentration. It’s not discipline. It’s not trying harder in a distracted world. Focus is a decision. And most people never make it. They think focus is about summoning willpower or forcing themselves to pay attention. It isn’t.
Most businesses don’t fail to produce great work because of a lack of talent. They fail because mediocrity is easier to sell. The dominant incentives reward speed over substance, sameness over judgment, efficiency over excellence.
A friend called me a few days ago to tell me she had finally quit her job. She’d been miserable for years. She couldn’t stand her boss. She couldn’t stand the environment.