The Power of Small, Consistent Improvements

Alex and Jane¹ meet in the hallway of a countryside hotel, the kind used for leadership offsites — lots of carpet, lots of coffee, lots of ambition.

Jane is heading toward breakfast, half-awake, clutching her laptop like a shield.

Alex is coming from the opposite direction, towel around his neck, still warm from a workout.

“Wait… you’ve already worked out?” she asks, genuinely surprised.

Alex shrugs, almost apologetic.

“Yeah. Ever since I made it a habit… it’s become surprisingly easy to stick to it. Doesn’t matter where I am — hotel gym, on vacation, random conference center — the system is the same.”

Jane laughs. “I wish I had your discipline.”

Alex smiles back. “It’s not discipline. It’s the system. Once the system works, the rest is automatic.”

She thinks about that as they walk toward the restaurant — two colleagues, two mindsets, one subtle lesson already unfolding before the offsite even begins.

We love ambitious goals — both personally and professionally.

We set them with the same optimism Jane had when she packed running shoes she never used.

OKRs, North Stars, quarterly targets… organisations pour enormous energy into defining where they want to go.

And then, ironically, they spend their time on short-term activities hoping these scattered efforts will somehow magically add up.

But when they fall short, the explanation almost always sounds like Jane’s:

Nine out of ten times, the finger points outward. And you know the saying:

👉 When you point one finger at someone, three fingers point back at you.

But rarely do we look inward — at the systems that make our goals either achievable… or impossible.

Just like Alex’s workouts, outcomes are not defined by ambition.

They’re defined by the system that runs quietly in the background.

They reach the breakfast buffet — the classic offsite spread: eggs, bacon, fruit, and a suspiciously shiny croissant that looks healthier than it is.

Jane pours herself coffee and grabs some croissants.

Alex grabs yoghurt and nuts — the kind of choice that makes you feel guilty without him saying a word.

“So how did you make it a habit?” Jane asks.

“I’ve tried this so many times… new year, new plan, new motivation. But it never lasts.”

Alex smiles, stirring his yoghurt thoughtfully.

“You know James Clear? Atomic Habits?”

Jane nods, vaguely familiar with the title.

“He has this line I really like,” Alex continues.

‘You don’t rise to the level of your goals — you fall to the level of your systems.’

“That sentence hit me hard the first time I read it. My goal was always the same — be healthier, be fitter, have more energy. But my system didn’t support it.”

He pauses, then adds:

“So, I stopped focusing on the goal. I started focusing on the system.”

Jane raises an eyebrow. “System?”

“Yeah,” he says. “The goal was to be fit… or healthier… or stronger. But that didn’t help. The system was what made it possible:

He takes a spoonful of yoghurt and continues:

“The system makes the goal possible. Without the system, the goal is just a wish.”

Jane looks down at her coffee, suddenly aware of how many goals she has that rely entirely on… hope.

Two hours later, the leadership team gathers in a meeting room filled with sticky notes, flipcharts, and the scent of determined optimism.

The facilitator asks the classic opening question:

“What are our goals for next year?”

Everyone jumps in.

The usual list — big ambitions written in bold colours.

Jane watches as the room fills with ideas, targets, promises.

But Alex’s comment from breakfast lingers in her mind like an echo:

“The system makes the goal possible.”

She starts noticing something she’s never paid attention to before.

The team is brilliant at defining goals.

But when it comes to the system that should deliver those goals?

When goals aren’t met, the post-mortem always sounds the same:

Outward, outward, outward.

It’s the corporate version of

“I couldn’t go for a run because it was raining.”

Jane looks around the room and realises:

We almost never examine our internal systems with the same intensity as our goals.

These are the gears.

The mechanics.

The quiet architecture behind every outcome.

Goals tell us what we want. Systems determine what we actually achieve.

Most organisations — and most people — underestimate the power of their systems and how small, consistent improvements can shift the entire trajectory.

Everyone looks for the one big lever:

Something that will fix everything at once.

But systems don’t transform through heroic moves.

They shift through small, consistent improvements to every part of the machine.

Individually, each change looks insignificant.

Together, they change everything.

Jane realises she has spent years managing goals — and very little time managing the system.

During a break, Jane finds Alex.

“You know,” she says, “I think we’ve been treating goals like magic tricks.

We write them down and expect reality to bend.”

Alex laughs. “Yeah. Systems don’t care about wishful thinking.”

Jane nods, more serious now.

“I also realised something else. Most people — including me — underestimate the impact we can have individually. We assume the system is something ‘the organisation’ owns.”

Alex replies. “And every system is just a collection of small behaviours. Improve your part by 5%, and the whole thing shifts.”

She smiles. “So the real leverage isn’t in the target. It’s in the tiny things we do every day.”

He nods.

“Exactly. Strong systems outperform ambitious goals”

“Always.”

As the offsite ends, Jane packs her bag — including the running shoes she didn’t use.

But this time, something feels different.

Not because she set a new fitness goal.

But because she finally understands the lesson:

Goals set direction.

Systems create outcomes.

And small changes create momentum.

Somewhere down the hall, Alex is probably planning his next workout.

For the first time, Jane feels like she might actually join him.

Not because of the goal.

But because she finally understands the system.

💬 I’d love to hear your thoughts: Where do you see broken systems holding teams back — and what tiny change could make the biggest difference?