Lipstick on a Pig: When Fear Freezes Our Work
I sat at my desk this morning, the morning winter light filtering through my window, watching another Zoom link fade into "rescheduled" on my calendar. The third time this month. A leader of a mission-driven organization, someone whose vision for change inspires me deeply, once again postponing our conversation about transforming their approach to supporting their people.
"We're not quite ready to have this conversation."
I get it. Deeply. Behind every rescheduled Zoom, every "let's touch base next quarter," every "not yet" lives a story about fear. Like putting lipstick on a pig, we keep applying temporary solutions while our insides whisper that something more profound is asking for our attention.
During economic downturns, an intriguing phenomenon emerges: lipstick sales soar. Known as the "lipstick effect," consumers reach for these small luxuries as affordable comfort in uncertain times. Like this collective impulse for quick-fix beauty, organizations often grasp for surface-level solutions when facing their deepest challenges – another training, another initiative, another coat of lipstick on fundamental issues asking for deeper transformation. However, true organizational healing, like economic recovery, requires us to look beyond temporary fixes to embrace authentic, lasting change.
The Stories We Tell Ourselves
In the quiet spaces between meetings, between follow-up conversations, between the knowing acknowledgment that yes, something needs to change, here's what I hear change-makers really saying:
"We can't afford real change right now" – But beneath that practical veneer lives a deeper truth: we're spending precious resources on quick fixes–another training, another curriculum– while our people continue to burn out, our mission continues to feel just out of reach.
"There's no time for deep work" – Even as we spend countless hours in crisis meetings about retention, watching our middle managers grow weary in their Brady Bunch boxes on screen, their cameras increasingly turning off.
"We're not ready yet" – This one lands in my chest every time. Because what I hear is: "If we really look at our organizational culture, at how we're treating our people, we might have to change everything."
The Dance of Not Yet
A few months ago, I sat in a virtual strategy session, the discussion filled with hope and hesitation. The chat box filled with the usual suggestions – new management frameworks, innovative team structures, fresh approaches to meetings.
But beneath each carefully crafted message lurked the shadow of what wasn't being typed, until one leader, her voice cracking through her headphones, spoke: "We keep talking about building an equitable organization, but we don't even know how to have honest conversations with each other about what's really happening here."
The silence that followed filled the space with possibility. In that moment of truth, even through the distance of our screens, something shifted.
An Invitation
Maybe you’re planning another training on ‘crucial conversations’ or ‘restorative practices’ or revising accountability policies and talking about time management. Sure, that may help. A little.
But the reality is that whatever is prompting you to seek those as solutions, is actually deeper and more fundamental.
Trust. Fear. Scarcity. In my experience, it’s usually about something along these lines.
What if, today, you:
Let yourself feel what's really happening in your postponements
Named one truth about how your people are really doing
Took one tiny step toward building the culture you dream of
Our sector may feel frozen in this moment, caught between what we've always done and what we know is possible. But in this very pause lives an invitation – to stop pretending, to stop avoiding, to simply begin.
Even if your hands shake a little. Even if your voice whispers. Even if you can only see one step ahead.
That's enough. That's everything. That's how we start.
Ready to stop rescheduling your transformation? I'm here, heart open, ready to walk beside you through your screen. Sometimes the greatest journeys begin with simply showing up for that first honest conversation about how we support our people.