Chapter 2: Change is a process, not an event

Change Is a Process, Not an Event

Last time we met, it seemed like I couldn’t let go of the idea that change is both a noun and a verb. It’s a noun when it happens to you (e.g. “That change in the marketing funds program came out of nowhere!”), and it’s a verb when you’re doing it (e.g. “I’m finally going to change my socks!”).

Well, I stand by that assertion. It comes from a lot of research, pondering and experience. But I can’t help noticing that – whether it’s a noun or a verb – this way of looking at change makes it sound like an event, a moment in time after which things are different than they were before that moment.

While that’s fundamentally true, it masks a fact that is vital to anyone who wants to lead – or even survive – change effectively. The fact is that change is a process, and often a terrifically slow one. It’s a process that often precedes that event by weeks, months or years, depending on the scope of the change, and one that continues for weeks, months or years after that event. We hardly notice it because the capital-c Change is often the only part of the lower-case change that we can see, but it’s often the least important.

In order to understand this distinction between event and process, we have to acknowledge that there are multiple dimensions to any change effort, and these dimensions can be boiled down to two categories: technical and human. The technical category involves systems, technologies, policies, procedures and all sorts of other artifacts that enable (or stand in the way of) the change.

The human category, on the other hand, involves attitude, influence, emotion, instincts and all those other messy elements that make us people. It’s the soft stuff, and, as the cliché says, that’s the hard stuff.

Back in the late ’90s, an extremely smart guy by the name of John M. Fisher published “The Process of Transition,” in which he dissected the human experience of change and illustrated just how much of a process it is. He argued for the use of the word “transition” instead of the word “change” to acknowledge the importance of the process, and he observed eight emotional stages in that transition: anxiety, happiness, fear, threat, guilt, denial, depression, disillusionment, hostility and acceptance.

If that sounds a lot like Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s five stages of grief, that’s because it is. After all, as change (the noun) happens to us, we have to let go of the way things were before and find a way to get our bearings in a new world. It’s a painful, powerful process that can leave people harder, better, faster and stronger than they were before, when it’s handled well.

When it’s handled poorly, however, the transition process associated with change can leave people despondent, disillusioned and disengaged.

Whether you’re leading a verb change, responding to a noun change or somewhere in between, I don’t want you or your organization to end up tattered and torn. I want you to end up better than you were. And that means paying attention to both the technical and the human sides of change.

Next time, we’ll look at some models of the change process that will give you a roadmap for steering your organization – and yourself – through the rocky terrain of change so that you come out the other side with all four wheels still on the vehicle.

Eryc Eyl / Freelance Writer and Business Consultant

Chapter 1: Change is a verb

Change Is a Verb:

Making it happen instead of letting it happen

For most people, most of the time, change is a noun. It’s a thing that happens to us. Whether it’s a change in gas prices, a change in our waist size or a disruptive change in the IT distribution marketplace, it’s often the object of dread, of uncertainty and of disdain.

But change is also a verb. It’s an action we can take. We can change the kind of car we drive, change the food we eat and even change the way we approach a challenge. Heck, I’ve changed my mind a dozen times today and my clothes twice!

Whether it’s a noun that’s happening to you or a verb that you’re doing, change is always hard. It just is. As humans, we tend toward stasis – even at a biological level. Our bodies and our minds will go to great lengths to keep everything the same, in spite of external forces. In fact, that change in our waist size is an unfortunate byproduct of our body’s efforts to keep things static.

The fact remains, however, that we live in a quickly changing world, especially in the IT industry, and our survival depends our ability to respond effectively to it (when it’s a noun) and to lead others effectively through it (when it’s a verb).

In the upcoming series of articles, we’re going to give you some tools to do just that. Luckily for you (and us), some very smart people – like John Kotter, John Fisher and even General Electric – have done a lot of the work for you. Their observations about leading and responding to change provide a blueprint for success from which we’ll borrow liberally.

Come back next week, when we’ll talk about the difference between change and transition, and whether it really matters. We’ll then begin the scary stroll through the valley of the shadow of change. You will fear no evil.

Eryc Eyl / Freelance Writer and Business Consultant