The Stretch Assignment Myth - When Challenge Becomes Harm
Tania Willis • April 22, 2026
Stretch roles only develop people when paired with adequate support. How to spot when 'development' is actually setting someone up to fail.
I need to tell you about a role I said yes to, years ago, that taught me something I couldn't have learned any other way.
I was working in higher education. I'd been performing well, building a reputation as someone who could hold complexity, manage difficult situations, and lead teams through change. So when my role was expanded through a change management process - bigger scope, larger team, responsibilities I hadn't held before - I went through the application process and backed myself.
What followed was eighteen months of the steepest learning curve of my career. Not steep in the way that builds you. Steep in the way that wears you down so gradually you don't notice until you're sitting in a car park at 7pm, wondering why you can't make yourself drive home.
This isn't a story about being let down by my leaders. They weren't absent or uncaring. They were, in many cases, navigating their own stretch, managing their own ambiguity, making decisions with incomplete information, and leading through change they hadn't experienced before either. The idea that there's always a senior leader somewhere who has the full picture and simply needs to share it is one of the quieter myths in organisational life. Often, nobody has the full picture.
No, the real problem was something more subtle and, I think, more common. I didn't know what I didn't know. And because I didn't know what I needed, I couldn't ask for it.
I didn't know that what I was feeling wasn't failure - it was the predictable result of operating beyond my zone of capability without scaffolding. I didn't know that the exhaustion wasn't a sign that I needed to try harder, but a signal that the conditions around me needed to change. I didn't have the language or the self-awareness to say ‘I need a thinking partner for this’ or ‘I need someone to help me see the patterns I can't see from inside them.’
So I did what many high-performing people do. I worked harder. I stayed later. I said yes to more. I built the systems around me that I didn't know I was missing. And I told myself that the exhaustion and self-doubt were the price of growth. The price of senior leadership. That this was what development felt like.
Growth requires discomfort. I'd always known that. What I hadn't understood was that I'd been using resilience as a reason to absorb things I shouldn't have been absorbing. The damage wasn't dramatic. It was quiet, incremental, and easy to mistake for the cost of doing the job.
It took me a long time to see the line between stretch and strain clearly. And the distance between the two is almost never about the person's capability. It's about what's been built around them, and whether anyone helped them see what they couldn't yet see for themselves.
The incomplete truth about stretch
The idea that challenging assignments develop leaders is one of the most well-established findings in leadership research. The Centre for Creative Leadership's foundational work, grounded in McCall, Lombardo, and Morrison's The Lessons of Experience (1988), found that effective leaders attributed most of their growth not to formal training but to on-the-job experiences that pushed them beyond their comfort zones.
This is powerful research. And it has been powerfully misapplied.
What gets quoted is that ‘stretch builds leaders’. What gets left out is awareness and understanding of the full picture. CCL's own framework makes clear that developmental experiences require three conditions working together: challenge (the stretch itself), assessment (understanding the gap between current capability and what the role demands), and support (the scaffolding around the person). Remove any one of those three, and the experience ceases to be developmental.
Lev Vygotsky's Zone of Proximal Development, first described in the 1930s and still foundational to adult learning theory, draws the same line with even more precision. The ZPD is the space between what someone can do independently and what they can achieve with guided support. Within that zone, learning happens. Below it, boredom. Above it, overwhelm. When we place someone beyond their ZPD and provide no scaffolding, the stretch stops being growth and becomes survival.
But here's what I've come to understand, both from my own experience and from sitting with hundreds of leaders since. The scaffolding problem isn't always a failure of the organisation or the senior leader. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it is, but often, it's a failure of visibility. The person being stretched doesn't know what support they need because they haven't been in this territory before. And the leader offering the stretch may not know either, because they're navigating their own uncertainty at the same time.
This is the ambiguity problem that sits underneath most stretch assignments. We act as though the person assigning the role has a clear view of what the role requires and can articulate it precisely. In reality, especially in complex environments, the person assigning the role is often making their best guess in shifting conditions. The expectations aren't withheld. They're genuinely unclear.
Research published in the Academy of Management Journal (Dong, Seo & Bartol, 2014) examined 214 early-career managers and found that stretch assignments amplify emotional reactions in both positive and negative directions. The determining factor was not the person's talent or resilience. It was the support structure around them. But what the research also implies, and what I see in practice, is that building that support structure is harder than it sounds when neither party can fully see what's needed until the person is already in the middle of it.
What I see now as a coach
Over time, the role shifted again as the structure evolved. It grew to include crisis response, complex change and student transition and engagement programs, and I was able to reshape the structure to better match the complexity of the work. The challenges were just as deep, but something had changed. By then, I had started to understand what I needed to ask for. The difference wasn't the difficulty of the work. It was my ability to see my own gaps and name them.
That experience is why I coach the way I do now.
When a client sits across from me saying, ‘I think something's wrong with me,’ I don't rush to reassure them. I help them see clearly what's actually happening. Almost always, when we unpack the situation, the problem isn't that something is wrong with them. It's a gap between the challenge they're facing and the support around them. But the more interesting conversation, the one that changes things, is helping them see what they don't yet know they need.
Because that's the real scaffolding gap. Not the absent mentor or the missing check-in, although those matter. It's the self-awareness to recognise where you are, what's beyond your current capability, and what kind of support would actually help. Most high-performing people have never been taught to ask those questions. They've been taught to figure it out.
These are the signs I watch for when a stretch assignment has stopped being developmental:
- The person was chosen for capability, not readiness. They were talented and willing, but nobody mapped the distance between where they were and what the role actually demanded. And the person themselves couldn't see that distance, because they'd never been in that territory before.
- Support exists in theory but not in practice. ‘My door is always open’ only works if the person knows what question to walk through it with. When you don't know what you don't know, an open door is just a door.
- Asking for help feels like an admission of failure. In environments where self-sufficiency is rewarded, stretch assignments become endurance tests. The person focuses on appearing competent rather than becoming competent, which is the opposite of development.
- Ambiguity is treated as something to push through, not name. When neither the person in the role nor the person who assigned it can clearly articulate what success looks like, the stretch becomes shapeless. You can't grow toward a target you can't see.
What I wish I'd known
If I could go back to the version of me who said yes to that role, I wouldn't tell her not to take it. The learning was real, even if it came at too high a cost. What I'd tell her is this:
You don't need to know everything. But you do need to learn to see what you can't yet see. Find someone, a coach, a mentor, a trusted peer, whose job it is to help you notice what you're missing. Not to give you answers. To help you find better questions.
I'd also tell her to stop wearing the exhaustion as a badge of honour. And I'd tell her something I now say to every client in the same situation: the gap between who you are and what this role demands is not evidence of your inadequacy. It's information. And with the right support, it's the starting point for some of the most important growth you'll ever do.
For leaders who assign stretch roles
If you're in a position to offer someone a stretch assignment, I want to say something you might not hear very often: it's okay that you don't have the full picture either. Leading through ambiguity means sometimes offering opportunities you can't fully define, in conditions you can't fully predict. That's honest. That's real.
But you can name it. You can say, ‘This role is going to stretch you, and I want to be honest that I can't tell you exactly what it will demand because some of it is still unfolding. What I can do is make sure you're not navigating it alone.’
That means building in structured support from day one. A coach, a mentor, a thinking partner. It means checking in at two weeks, not two months. It means creating the conditions in which the person can say, ‘I don't know what I need yet, but I know I need help figuring it out,’ without that statement costing them anything.
Stretch is one of the most powerful developmental tools we have. It is also, when handled without care, one of the fastest ways to damage a capable person's confidence and career trajectory. The difference between the two has very little to do with the person and almost everything to do with what's built around them - including the permission to see clearly what they don't yet know.
I know, because it took me years to learn that for myself. And it's the reason I do what I do now.
If this resonated, I'd love to hear from you. Have you experienced a stretch assignment that genuinely grew you, or one that crossed the line? What made the difference?
References
Dong, Y., Seo, M. & Bartol, K. M. (2014). No pain, no gain: An affect-based model of developmental job experience and the buffering effects of emotional intelligence. Academy of Management Journal, 57(4), 1056–1077.
McCall, M. W., Lombardo, M. M. & Morrison, A. M. (1988). The Lessons of Experience: How Successful Executives Develop on the Job. Lexington Books.
Vygotsky, L. S. (1978). Mind in Society: The Development of Higher Psychological Processes. Harvard University Press.
Advantage Point
The difference between facilitation that performs and facilitation that transforms
What Coaching Clients Are Really Asking "The most important things are the hardest to say." Stephen King Maya* is sitting across from me, and she's already told me what she wants from our session. "I just need help with my time," she says. Her hands are wrapped around her coffee cup, knuckles slightly white. "My diary is a disaster. I'm working evenings and weekends. I need strategies. Can we focus on prioritisation today?" I nod. I tell her yes, of course, we can work on that. And then, because I've been doing this long enough to know that the thing in the doorway is rarely the thing in the room, I ask her something else. "Before we get into strategies, can you walk me through a typical week?" She starts listing meetings. The Tuesday executive forum. The Wednesday service delivery working group, which she joined three months ago. A mentoring commitment she took on in February. A piece of work she volunteered for at the last leadership off-site. As she talks, I'm noticing two things at once. The first is her language. Every commitment is described the same way: I said yes to , I took on , I put my hand up for . Active, every time. No one is making her do any of this. The second is her body. When she mentions the working group, her shoulders climb a couple of centimetres toward her ears. When she mentions the off-site project, she looks at the window instead of at me. I make a small choice in that moment. I could pull out a prioritisation framework right now. She'd probably leave the session with a tidy list of things to drop, feel relieved for about a week, and then quietly fill the space back up with something else. I've seen that pattern enough times to recognise where it leads. Instead, I say, "Maya, can I ask you something that might sound a bit out there? Is that okay?" She nods. "What would change for you if the time problem disappeared tomorrow? If I waved a magic wand and your diary suddenly had three free days in it. What would that be like?" She opens her mouth. Closes it again. Looks at her coffee. This is the moment. In the work of Sidney Jourard, the Canadian psychologist whose 1971 book The Transparent Self shaped how we understand disclosure, this is the threshold where someone decides whether the conversation stays in the safe outer layer or moves toward something more honest. Jourard argued that genuine growth in any helping relationship depends on the practitioner creating enough safety for the person to risk going deeper. Irwin Altman and Dalmas Taylor, in their Social Penetration Theory (1973), described it as peeling back layers of an onion: people only move from the surface toward their core self when they assess that the rewards of disclosure outweigh the perceived costs. Trust is the threshold. And right now Maya is doing the calculation. I wait. I don't fill the silence. I've learned, slowly and not without effort, that the urge to rescue a client from a pause is almost always about my discomfort, not theirs. After what feels like a long time but is probably eight seconds, she says, very quietly, "I think I'd feel scared." There it is. The doorway has just opened. "Tell me about scared," I say. And then it comes. Not all at once, but in pieces. A colleague who was promoted ahead of her last year. How she'd told herself it was fine, but something had shifted afterwards. How she started saying yes to everything, partly to prove she was indispensable, partly because the busyness drowned out a quieter, more uncomfortable question: what if I'm not actually that good? How the working group, the mentoring, the offsite project, were all answers to a question she'd never let herself ask out loud. Maya isn't struggling with time management. Maya is trying to outwork a wound. I sit with that for a moment, with her, before I say anything. Because the temptation now is to start solving the new problem. To offer reassurance about her competence, to recommend a self-worth exercise, to do the coach equivalent of patting her hand. None of which would honour what she's just trusted me with. What Barry Farber's research on disclosure in psychotherapy ( Self-Disclosure in Psychotherapy , 2006) shows clearly is that the moment after a meaningful disclosure is delicate. How the practitioner responds determines whether the client goes further or quietly retreats back to the outer layer and never tries again. So I keep it simple. "That took courage to say," I tell her. "Thank you. Can we stay here for a bit before we go anywhere else?" She nods. Her shoulders drop. We don't get to time management strategies in this session. We don't need to. The conversation we're having now is the one that will really help to create change, and the diary will start to sort itself once the underlying driver is understood. Not always quickly, not always neatly, but it will move. I've watched it happen enough times to trust the process. As I reflect on Maya's session, I want to pass on something to anyone reading this who leads people. You don't need to be a coach to do what just happened in that room. You need to do three things, and none of them are technical. Resist the urge to solve in the first ninety seconds. The fix you reach for at minute one is almost always a fix for the wrong problem. Stay curious for one question longer than feels natural. You might ask: What would change if this disappeared? What's the cost beyond the obvious one? What would you most want me to understand? Pick whichever one fits and use it. Be willing to sit with someone in silence long enough that the real thing can be said . Amy Edmondson's work on psychological safety ( The Fearless Organization , 2018) shows that team members only raise the real issue when they trust the response will not cost them. That trust is built in moments exactly like this one. Not in retreats. Not in the values posters. In the four minutes you choose to give someone instead of the four-second answer you were about to offer. Maya came in with a question about her calendar. The question behind it was about her worth. Those are two very different conversations, and only one of them was ever going to change anything. The hardest part of this work, and the most important, is being willing to find out which conversation you're actually in. If this resonated, I'd love to hear from you. What's a time you discovered the real issue was different from the one you came in with - either as a client, a coach, or a leader holding space for someone on your team? References Altman, I. & Taylor, D. A. (1973). Social Penetration: The Development of Interpersonal Relationships . Holt, Rinehart & Winston. Edmondson, A. C. (2018). The Fearless Organization: Creating Psychological Safety in the Workplace for Learning, Innovation, and Growth . Wiley. Farber, B. A. (2006). Self-Disclosure in Psychotherapy . Guilford Press. Jourard, S. M. (1971). The Transparent Self (Rev. ed.). Van Nostrand Reinhold. *Name changed to protect confidentiality.
Let me start with a confession: When I first heard about “leadership coaching,” I pictured someone in an expensive suit telling executives to “think outside the box” while charging consulting fees that could fund a small apartment. The expensive suit part? Sometimes accurate. Everything else? Not even close. Leadership coaching has evolved into one of the most evidence-backed, ROI-positive interventions available to organisations today. And if you’re leading a team, building a company, or trying to figure out why your highly talented staff keeps walking out the door, it’s worth understanding what this actually is and why it matters. What Is Leadership Coaching, Really? At its core, leadership coaching is a structured, confidential partnership between a trained coach and a leader, designed to unlock that leader’s potential, enhance their effectiveness, and ultimately drive better outcomes for their team and organisation. Think of it less like a guru dispensing wisdom from a mountaintop, and more like having a thinking partner who asks the questions you’re not asking yourself. The good stuff happens when a leader realises, mid-sentence: “Wait… am I actually the bottleneck here?” Unlike training (where someone teaches you skills) or mentoring (where someone more experienced guides you based on their own path), coaching is: Personalised to your specific context and challenges Action-oriented with genuine accountability Future-focused rather than dwelling on past mistakes Question-driven rather than advice-giving The Evidence: When the Researchers Started Paying Attention Here’s where it gets interesting. Leadership coaching isn’t just feel-good corporate theatre. The research is increasingly compelling: The Manchester Review Study (2001), conducted with 100 executives, found that coaching generated an average ROI of nearly 600%. When the broader benefits to the organisation were considered, that figure jumped to over 700%. Not too shabby for “soft skills.” Harvard Business Review research has consistently shown that leaders who receive coaching demonstrate significant improvements in: Goal attainment (70-80% improvement) Relationship quality with direct reports Organisational commitment Work-life balance (yes, really) A Metropolitan State University study, published in 2009, found that while training alone improved productivity by 22%, training combined with coaching increased productivity by 88%. That’s not a typo. The difference between giving someone tools and helping them actually use those tools effectively is profound. Stanford’s Executive Coaching Project revealed that nearly 100% of coached leaders and their stakeholders reported being satisfied with the coaching experience, with measurable improvements in business management, teamwork, and relationships with direct reports. More recently, the International Coaching Federation’s Global Consumer Study found that 80% of people who receive coaching report increased self-confidence, and over 70% benefit from improved work performance, relationships, and communication skills. How Leadership Coaching Actually Helps For Individual Leaders This year, I worked with a brilliant senior executive in the Australian Public Service - let’s call her Kate - who was drowning. Fifteen-hour days, endless emails and Teams messages, a team that couldn’t seem to make decisions without her. She’d been promoted based on technical excellence but hadn't learned to lead at scale. Through coaching, Kate discovered she was unconsciously creating dependency. Every time someone came to her with a problem, she’d solve it (because she could do it faster). Her team learned not to think independently. Within three months of shifting her approach - asking more questions, delegating with genuine authority, creating space for others to fail and learn - her reactive workload dropped by roughly 30%, and her team’s throughput increased. Leadership coaching helps individuals: Gain self-awareness about blind spots and impact on others Navigate transitions (new role, new industry, scaling up) Develop emotional intelligence and interpersonal effectiveness Build strategic thinking capabilities Manage stress and prevent burnout through better systems and boundaries For Teams When a leader changes, the ripple effects are immediate. Kate's team didn’t just become more autonomous; they became more engaged. Retention improved. Innovation picked up because people felt safe to experiment. The research from Google’s Project Aristotle (their massive study on team effectiveness) found that psychological safety is the number 1 factor in team performance. Coaching helps leaders create that environment. Teams benefit from leadership coaching through: Improved communication patterns and reduced misunderstandings Higher trust levels when leaders model vulnerability and growth Better conflict resolution as leaders learn to facilitate rather than avoid Increased accountability through clearer expectations and follow-through Enhanced collaboration when leaders understand team dynamics For Organisations Here’s the business case that gets CFOs interested: A study in The International Journal of Evidence Based Coaching and Mentoring (2012) found that executive coaching resulted in: 48% improvement in management skills 53% increase in productivity 39% improvement in customer satisfaction 43% increase in employee satisfaction Pricewaterhouse Coopers conducted a survey revealing that the median ROI for companies investing in coaching was seven times the initial investment. For every dollar spent, seven dollars came back in the form of increased productivity, better leadership, improved retention, and other benefits. Organisations see returns through: Reduced turnover among high-potential talent (replacing a senior leader can cost 2-3x their annual salary) Faster onboarding of new leaders into complex roles Culture change that actually sticks because it’s modelled from the top Succession planning that develops internal talent rather than constantly buying it Better decision-making as leaders learn to think more systemically The Real-World Messy Middle Not every coaching engagement ends with a promotion and a TED Talk. Sometimes coaching reveals that someone is genuinely in the wrong role. I once coached a leader who realised through our work that they’d been chasing a version of success their parents wanted, not the one they wanted. They left leadership entirely, started a small business, and last I heard, they’re thriving. That’s still a win. Better that realisation happens through structured reflection than five years and a stress-induced health crisis later. Other times, the challenge is organisational. No amount of coaching will fix a leader who’s set up to fail by impossible demands, toxic cultures, or contradictory expectations. Good coaching sometimes means helping someone see that clearly and make informed choices. What Leadership Coaching Isn’t Let me be clear about what you’re NOT getting: Therapy (we’re not unpacking your childhood, though self-awareness is part of the work) Consulting (a coach won’t do your strategic planning for you) Magic (real change requires real work and real time) One-size-fits-all (cookie-cutter approaches miss the point entirely) The Bottom Line Leadership is learned, not born. And like any complex skill, having someone help you see your own patterns, challenge your assumptions, and experiment with new approaches dramatically accelerates growth. The research is clear: leadership coaching delivers measurable returns. The ROI data is compelling. But beyond the numbers, there’s something deeper. Leaders who are coached become better at developing others, creating a multiplier effect that compounds over time. In a world where the half-life of skills is shrinking and the pace of change is accelerating, the ability to learn and adapt isn’t a nice-to-have. It’s the competitive advantage. So whether you’re a CEO wondering why your leadership team isn’t clicking, a mid-level manager feeling stuck, or an HR professional building development programs, leadership coaching deserves a serious look. Not because it’s trendy, but because it works. And if nothing else, imagine having someone whose job is to help you think more clearly about the problems that keep you up at night. In my experience, that alone is worth the investment. What has been your experience with leadership coaching - as a coach, coachee, or observer? I’d love to hear your stories. Interested in hiring a coach to support your leadership challenges in 2026? 📩 Email: tania@advantagecoaching.com.au or schedule a clarity call.
Lately, I’ve been deep-diving into research on burnout and neuroscience, and, like any good coach-slash-human, it made me think about my own experience with it over the years. Burnout is sneaky. It doesn’t arrive with a dramatic meltdown. It tiptoes in with a spreadsheet and a smile. And yes… the frog-in-boiling-water story comes to mind. 🐸 Poor frog. You've heard the story. A frog in boiling water jumps out immediately, but a frog in water that slowly heats up will stay until it's too late. It's become the go-to metaphor for burnout; we don't notice the temperature rising until we're completely cooked. Here's the thing: it's not true. Actual frogs? They jump out. Every single time. Scientists have known this since the 1800s, but we keep telling the story because it feels true. And that's precisely the problem with burnout among leaders and executives. We are often worse at self-preservation than an amphibian with a brain the size of a grain of rice. Why We're Less Smart Than Frogs Unlike our fictional boiled frog, we have something working against us: a prefrontal cortex that's excellent at rationalisation. "It's just a busy season." "Everyone's counting on me." "I'll rest after this project." You know what I’m talking about, right? Yesterday, in the incredible Brain Friendly Leadership Certification that I'm currently working towards, the stats on workplace burnout were sobering. A recent Boston Consulting Group study across eight countries found that 48% of workers are currently experiencing burnout. In contrast, a global McKinsey study indicates that "on average, 1 in 4 employees report symptoms of burnout." Here in Australia and New Zealand, the water's hot. Gallup's 2023 State of the Australian and New Zealand Workplace report found that five out of 10 Australians are experiencing "a lot of stress" at work, while research from the Wellbeing Lab shows that almost two thirds of Australian workers (63.6%) are feeling burned out, with nearly nine in 10 saying they've been feeling that way for an extended period. And here's the kicker: leaders are reporting significantly higher levels of stress than their people. We're not just staying in hot water - we're turning up the heat ourselves and calling it leadership. The neuroscience here is fascinating. When we're chronically stressed, our amygdala (the brain's alarm system) goes into overdrive while our prefrontal cortex (responsible for decision-making and self-awareness) gets quieter. It's like having a smoke detector blaring while someone turns down your ability to hear it. We literally lose our capacity to recognise we're burning out while we're burning out . The Early Warning Signs (That We Ignore) Dr. Christina Maslach's research on burnout identifies three core dimensions: exhaustion, cynicism, and reduced professional efficacy. But these don't show up overnight. They creep in: You're answering emails at 11 PM and telling yourself it's "just catching up" Your default response to new ideas has become "yeah…but that won't work" before you've really listened You're busy all day but can't quite remember what you accomplished You snap at people you actually like Sunday nights fill you with dread The water's warming. Sound familiar? I’ve certainly been there - several times. Neuroscience-Backed Tips for Busy Leaders Micro-recoveries beat macro-vacations: Your brain can't sustain focus for 8-10 hours straight. Research by DeskTime found top performers work in 52-minute bursts followed by 17-minute breaks. Your prefrontal cortex needs these recovery moments to maintain executive function. One client of mine sets a timer and takes a 10-minute walk every 90 minutes. He says it's the number 1 reason he survived his last product launch with his sanity intact. Sleep is non-negotiable: I know, I know. But here's the neuroscience: during sleep, your brain clears out metabolic waste products, including beta-amyloid (yes, the Alzheimer's protein). Matthew Walker's research at UC Berkeley shows that even one night of poor sleep significantly impairs emotional regulation and decision-making. You're not "powering through" - you're making yourself less effective. The power of "no" (your anterior cingulate cortex will thank you): Every time you say yes to something that doesn't align with your priorities, your brain experiences conflict - literally. Your anterior cingulate cortex has to work overtime managing the dissonance. Practice saying "That's not going to work for my schedule today/this week/this month. Watch how much mental energy you get back. Move your body, change your brain: Exercise increases BDNF (brain-derived neurotrophic factor) - essentially Seasol for your brain. Even a 20-minute walk can reset your stress response system. One executive I work with does walking one-on-ones. She gets movement, her team gets face time, and nobody's staring at another screen. Connect with humans (not just on Slack): Loneliness and isolation activate the same brain regions as physical pain. Meanwhile, genuine social connection triggers oxytocin release, which literally calms your nervous system. Have one real conversation per day - not about work, just about life. It matters more than you think. The Question You're Probably Not Asking Here's what I ask my coaching clients when they're running on fumes: "If you wouldn't treat your best performer the way you're treating yourself, why is it okay to treat yourself that way?" Usually, there's a long pause. The truth is, we've confused self-sacrifice with leadership. We've mistaken exhaustion for dedication. We've told ourselves that rest is something we'll do later, after we've earned it. But the frog - the real one, not the metaphorical one - knows something we've forgotten: when the water gets too hot, you jump. Not because you've finished everything on your to-do list. Not because you've proven your worth. Not because someone gave you permission. You jump because you're smart enough to know that staying is not actually an option. So, What Now? Here’s one question to reflect on: What's one sign that your water temperature has been rising that you've been ignoring? Sit with the question. The answer might surprise you. And if you need permission to jump out of the hot water? Consider this your permission slip. The frog would approve. What's one small change you could make this week to turn down the temperature? Need more strategies to address your leadership challenges? send me a DM, 📩 Email: tania@advantagecoaching.com.au or schedule a clarity call.
Last week, I talked about the importance of the Pause for intentional leadership and Executive presence. This week, I want to focus on how our bodies and brains work to create breakthrough thinking - and what I learned from my Sunday morning RPM class. This morning, at my regular Sunday RPM class, something clicked. Not just another gear on the bike - an idea for this newsletter. As I pushed through the warm-up and into the red zone, feeling my heart rate spike and my legs burn, my mind started racing in a different way. And then, as I deliberately pulled back into the green zone to recover, the idea didn't just stay with me, it crystallised. That's when I realised: this pattern isn't unique to my Sunday morning cycling class. It's the same pattern I see in the most effective leaders I work with. And it's anchored in something we often ignore in our packed calendars: the fundamental incompatibility between doing and thinking. Two Systems, Two Zones In exercise, we talk about training zones. The red zone is anaerobic - intense, unsustainable, all-consuming. The green zone is aerobic, sustainable, restorative, where endurance lives. What I've noticed is that my brain needs both, but in sequence. The red zone primes me. It demands every bit of physical focus I have, which paradoxically sweeps away mental clutter. Then, when I shift down into the green zone, that's when breakthrough thinking happens. Not during the intensity, but in the deliberate recovery that follows. The neuroscience backs this up. During high-intensity exercise, our brains experience increased blood flow, a surge in brain-derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF - essentially fertiliser for neural connections), and elevated neurotransmitters like dopamine and norepinephrine. But here's the key: this neurochemical cocktail doesn't do its best work during peak effort. The magic happens in the transition, when our prefrontal cortex - our executive thinking centre - comes back online with enhanced neurological capacity ready to fire. The Doing Mode Trap This maps directly to leadership work, and it explains why so many executives struggle to find time for strategic thinking despite knowing how critical it is. When we're in "doing mode" - responding to emails, attending back-to-back meetings, making rapid-fire decisions, putting out fires - we're operating in our own version of the red zone. Our sympathetic nervous system is activated. We're using reactive, habitual neural pathways. And crucially, we're not accessing the deeper, integrative thinking that happens in our prefrontal cortex. Just like I can't have my best ideas while sprinting at maximum heart rate, executives can't do their best strategic thinking while in execution mode. The brain simply doesn't work that way. These aren't two things on a continuum - they're two genuinely different neural states. The Transition Is the Work Here's what I've learned from my RPM practice that applies directly to leadership: you need both zones, and you need to design the transitions deliberately. In my work supporting leaders on their leadership journey - from emerging leaders finding their voice to senior executives navigating complex challenges - I see this pattern repeatedly. Most leaders are stuck in the perpetual red zone at work. They've created schedules that are all intensity, all execution, all doing. And then they wonder why they're not thinking strategically, why they're not seeing the bigger picture, why they're not having the insights they need to lead effectively. The answer isn't to eliminate the red zone. We need execution. We need intensity. We need focused doing. But we have to follow it with designed recovery - with space that allows our brains to shift into a different mode. Beyond the Bike: Creating Your Green Zone Exercise is one way to create this shift, and the research on exercise and cognition is compelling. But it's not the only way. What matters is finding practices that help you transition from doing mode to thinking mode. Leaders I work with find this in: Long walks with no destination in mind Contemplative practices like meditation or journaling Extended time in nature without devices Creative pursuits that engage different parts of the brain Strategic conversations that are genuinely exploratory rather than decision-focused The common thread is that these practices create space for your brain to shift states. They move you from reactive to reflective mode. They let your prefrontal cortex come back online with all its capacity for integration, pattern recognition, and strategic insight. Designing for Thinking This isn't about self-care or work-life balance, though those are worthy goals. This is about performance. Strategic thinking isn't something that happens in the margins of an overpacked calendar. It requires different neurological conditions than execution does, and creating those conditions needs to be as intentional as any other part of leadership work. The practical implication is simple but challenging: if you're not building transitions into your schedule, you're not building in time for your best thinking. This might mean blocking recovery time after intense periods, building a buffer between context-switching meetings, or understanding that sometimes the most productive thing you can do is deliberately slow down. Whether you're leading a team through transformation, navigating your first senior leadership role, or trying to shift your organisation's strategic direction, the quality of your thinking matters. And the quality of your thinking depends on creating the conditions that allow it to happen. Questions for Reflection Think about your own patterns over the past week: When did your best thinking happen? Was it during a scheduled meeting or in some form of transition? What does your calendar say about the balance between your red zone (doing/execution) and your green zone (recovery/thinking)? If strategic thinking requires different neurological conditions than execution, what practices help you create those conditions? And perhaps most importantly: What would it look like to design your schedule not just for productivity, but for the kind of thinking your leadership actually requires? I work with leaders at all stages of their journey to navigate these kinds of challenges. If you are struggling to find space for strategic thinking, you are not alone - and you do not have to figure it out alone. If you need some support or want to know more 📩 Get in touch at tania@advantagecoaching.com.au or schedule a clarity call.
I was watching an ABC interview last week and was intrigued by a question an interviewer asked an orchestral conductor. I can’t remember the exact wording of the question, but it was something along the lines of: “What are you doing when you step up to begin a piece of music?” The conductor paused, smiled, and said he’d never been asked that before. His answer was simple and profound: First, he said, he’s changing the emotion of the audience and preparing them for what’s next. Second, he’s moving himself into presence - owning the space and his role in it. What a powerful representation of leadership. It reminded me of the importance of the pause - those few moments before we begin facilitating a workshop, stepping into a coaching conversation, or leading through challenges. I first learned this habit years ago as a group fitness instructor. I’d arrive early, check the room, test the sound (because there’s nothing like leading a class to absolute silence when your mic battery dies), do a quick run-through of the choreography and take a few quiet minutes to centre myself before the energy began to build. That small ritual - creating calm before movement - has stayed with me ever since. And I know when I skip it… Let’s just say the playlist isn’t the only thing off-beat. Now, whether I’m facilitating or coaching, I consciously build in a moment to pause. A few slow breaths, a quiet piece of music, and a mental clearing of the day so far (and yes, a quick check that I’m not still on mute). And when I invite participants to pause with me before we begin, something shifts. You can feel it in the room. Shoulders drop. Jaws soften. The collective rhythm slows. People arrive. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. The Leadership Connection A senior executive I once worked with shared that she used to run from back-to-back early morning meetings straight into her weekly team stand-up. High energy, full of ideas, but often impatient and reactive. Her team, meanwhile, were still catching up - sometimes anxious about the incoming flurry of updates (and still trying to locate caffeine). Through coaching, she began experimenting with a simple practice: before walking into the room, she’d pause. One deep breath. One clear intention: How do I want to show up right now? Over time, her team noticed the difference. Meetings became calmer, conversations more open, and trust deepened. She didn’t change her strategy - just her state. That’s the power of the pause. The Science Behind It Neuroscience supports this (of course it does - science loves and often needs a good pause). When we pause, even for a few seconds, we activate the parasympathetic nervous system, the body’s built-in “it’s okay, you’re not being chased by a tiger” mode. This reduces cortisol, increases oxygen flow to the prefrontal cortex, and restores access to our higher-order thinking skills: empathy, decision-making, and perspective (Goleman, 2013; Siegel, 2020). Without that pause, leaders risk operating from the amygdala - the brain’s threat centre, otherwise known as the drama department. That’s when we send the regret email, jump to conclusions, or buy a dozen doughnuts “for the team.” Research from Harvard’s Ellen Langer on mindfulness and attention shows that brief, deliberate pauses improve focus and creativity while reducing stress. And Daniel Kahneman’s work on Thinking, Fast and Slow reminds us that slowing down even momentarily allows us to engage “System 2” - the thoughtful, deliberate part of the mind that helps us respond wisely instead of react wildly. A Gentle (and Slightly Cheeky) Invitation In leadership, facilitation, or coaching, the pause isn’t wasted time. It’s productive stillness. It’s where presence begins and intentional leadership takes form. So, what do you do to prepare your team, your participants or clients? And just as importantly, what do you do to prepare yourself ? Because leadership isn’t a sprint - it’s a symphony. And every outstanding performance starts with a pause. Leadership development isn’t just about learning - it’s about becoming. If you’re ready to help your leaders grow with purpose and presence (and maybe even enjoy the silence before the music), I’d love to partner with you.
In leadership development, few frameworks have the longevity and intuitive appeal of 70:20:10. It reminds us that real growth doesn’t happen just in a classroom, it happens through experience, reflection and connection. The model suggests that: 70% of learning comes from experience - the stretch assignments, jobs, and everyday challenges of leadership. 20% comes from others - feedback, mentoring, observing peers. 10% comes from formal learning - courses, workshops, programs. It’s an elegant ratio that shifts our focus from training leaders to developing them . However, in practice, most organisations continue to invest heavily in the 10% and, without the right follow-through, that investment often fails to produce lasting change. That’s where coaching becomes a critical enabler. Turning Learning into Leadership Workshops and formal programs can spark insight - but insight alone rarely creates sustained change. Without reflection and consistent application, what is learned often fades. Coaching is the bridge between knowing and doing : it helps leaders turn theoretical learning into daily practice, experiment in the real world, and embed new behaviours. For example: In a study of 70 leaders, coaching was shown to improve emotional intelligence and leadership self-efficacy, which then translated into more authentic and change-oriented leadership behaviours. A systematic review of coaching leadership styles (2000-2025) found that coaching enhanced employees’ motivation, promoted skill development, and strengthened organisational adaptability. Research on leadership development shows that when coaching is nested within a broader program (rather than stand-alone), it tends to produce better returns. (Regent University) In other words, if the 70% (on-the-job experience) is your real playground for development, coaching helps leaders make that playground safe, structured and focused. The Reflective Edge Reflection is too often the missing piece in development efforts. Coaching creates the space and rhythm for leaders to pause, observe themselves in action and learn in real time. That means coaching doesn’t just add to the 10% or the 20%, it deepens all three parts of the 70:20:10 model: It deepens learning from experience (70%) by framing real challenges as development opportunities, and encouraging reflection and adaptation. It amplifies learning from others (20%) by modelling effective inquiry, feedback cycles and peer discussion. It reinforces formal learning (10%) by helping leaders personalise what they’ve learned and operationalise it in their context. From a culture-perspective, the most significant shift comes when coaching helps turn isolated learning moments into sustained capability change. From Framework to Culture The 70:20:10 model reminds us that leadership development is not an event. It’s a process. Coaching ensures that the process lives beyond the workshop. When organisations integrate coaching into leadership programs, they move from delivering training to developing capability . Instead of simply attending a program or a workshop, leaders begin to live the learning: they test, iterate, get feedback, adjust-and then build confidence and competence. As one organisation found: giving leaders coaching as part of their development journey helped them translate program learning into action: "Integrated coaching helps leaders apply what they’ve learned in context - a key factor in ensuring long-term impact.” CCL Innovation When this happens, learning becomes part of the culture and reflection, experimentation, feedback, and coaching become how leaders lead. Reflection for Leaders and Designers Where does your organisation currently invest most of its energy: the 10%, 20% or the 70%? How might you use coaching to help your leaders make sense of what they’ve learned and turn that into lasting change? If you design or purchase leadership programs, how will you embed coaching (not as a nicety but as a core component) so that the learning doesn’t stop when the class ends? If you’re exploring how to design leadership programs that integrate coaching, or want to help your leaders turn learning into capability , I’d love to collaborate. That’s where the real advantage lies.
Recently, I’ve been reflecting on what it really means to plan strategically - not as a process, but as a practice of connection, curiosity, and courage. Over the past week, I’ve found myself deep in thought about strategic planning - not just what it is, but how it feels when we do it well. This weekend, I’ll have the privilege of gathering with the Australasia Charter Chapter of the ICF Board, Branch Leaders and support team for our annual Strategy Weekend. This will be my third, and it’s one of my favourite times of the year - a moment when passionate volunteers come together to reflect, recalibrate, and re-imagine how we continue advancing the coaching profession across our region. In preparation, I’ve been exploring insights from the latest I CF Global Coaching Study, reflecting on our collective strengths, challenges, and opportunities. I’ve been shaping an agenda designed not just for productivity, but for connection - ensuring we leave feeling aligned, energised, and ready for the year ahead. And through all of this, I’ve been asking myself: What does it really mean to plan strategically? And why does it matter? Here’s some of my key reflections: Strategy is a Conversation, Not a Document Too often, strategy gets reduced to a plan on a page - something static, measurable, and tidy. But leadership (and life) rarely fits neatly inside tidy boxes. True strategic planning isn’t about control - it’s about curiosity. It’s the collective act of asking big questions and listening deeply to what emerges. Questions like: What’s most important right now? What are we learning as we go? What might we need to release to create space for what’s next? When we approach strategy as a conversation instead of a checklist, we invite adaptability, creativity, and shared ownership. We allow strategy to come alive - a living expression of who we are and what we value. Thinking Systemically, Acting Deliberately At its best, strategic planning sits at the intersection of systems and purpose. It’s the balance of zooming out to see the patterns while zooming in to act with intention. As a coach, I often see leaders wrestling with the tension between vision and execution . Too much focus on the horizon, and the plan can feel abstract. Too much focus on the day-to-day, and we lose sight of why it matters. Effective strategy bridges that space. It connects the head (clarity, structure, foresight) with the heart (values, culture, meaning). It ensures that every action, however small, aligns with a bigger purpose. For ICF Australasia, that purpose means: Building a strong, trusted brand that elevates professional coaching. Creating a sustainable and rewarding volunteer experience. Attracting and developing members committed to excellence, ethics, and growth. Each of these priorities is a deliberate choice - an expression of who we want to be as leaders and as a community. Strategy as a Practice of Renewal Strategic planning isn’t a one-off event. It’s a rhythm - a continuous cycle of reflection, learning, and renewal. Like coaching, it’s not about having all the answers. It’s about creating the conditions for insight to emerge. The best strategies build in moments of pause, reflection, and recalibration. They recognise that change is constant and that effective planning must be dynamic, too. As we step into our strategy weekend, my focus isn’t on producing the perfect plan . It’s on nurturing the thinking , trust , and collective intention that will carry us forward. Because when strategy is grounded in values, guided by strengths, and sustained by community - it doesn’t just shape the year ahead. It shapes who we become. A Reflection for You Whether you’re leading a team, a project, or an organisation, take a moment to pause and ask yourself: Is your strategy a document - or is it a conversation? The answer might just reshape the way you lead. Continue the Conversation I’d love to hear how you approach strategic planning in your own leadership or organisation. What helps you move from “planning” to “strategic thinking”? Let’s connect and explore this together. Follow Advantage Point for weekly reflections on leadership, coaching, and the art of growth.
I recently rewatched Patience (iview/UKChannel 4) a crime drama about Patience Evans, an autistic police archivist whose quiet but brilliant pattern-spotting ends up pulling her into investigatory work with Detective Bea Metcalf. A few scenes hit me differently this time, not just as storytelling, but as prompts for how we lead or like to be led in real life. Patience lives in a world built around standard assumptions, how police investigations “should” run, how colleagues “should” communicate, and how decisions “should” be made. Her presence (and very different way of thinking) forces those around her to grapple with how much of leadership is about expectation and how much is about adaptation . Because the show intentionally centres a neurodivergent character, it invites us to reflect on how much leaders default to “the norm” and how often that leaves remarkable talent unseen or undermined. Here are three lessons I took away, and how they speak into leading inclusively: 1. Patience is active, not passive In one pivotal scene, Bea Metcalf is pushing hard to move on a lead. Patience resists the rush: she asks to pause, review evidence more deeply, and reconsider assumptions. The pressure is mounting from the team and the clock, but the pause yields a fresh insight that the rest almost missed. What feels like “waiting” is actually tension, listening, observing, gathering and understanding nuance before taking action. As leaders, we often mistake “waiting” for weakness, but that pause can be the moment we see distinctions others missed. Pausing long enough to sense what’s really happening. To calibrate. To avoid acting on impulse or bias. For me, this really resonates and the space is crucial, but often misunderstood. My thinking, processing, or communication tends to unfold at a different rhythm. If I’m pushed too fast, I tend to lose clarity or completely miss the key strength around a decision. But if I am given the space to be more deliberate, I am able to offer deeper contributions. True leadership isn’t about rushing ahead. It’s about slowing down, listening, and being fully present so others feel seen and valued. 2. Tailor your approach - one size does not fit all Early on in the show, a colleague assumes Patience will communicate updates verbally and fast, as is the norm in detective work. Instead, Patience sends annotated notes, maps connections visually, or even steps back to think things through in writing. Her mode doesn’t match the expected rhythm, so some dismiss her - until Bea leans in and asks, “How do you prefer to show me what you see?” That moment underscores that inclusive leadership isn’t just permissive, it’s responsive. In a team, someone may shine through quick verbal brainstorms; someone else may shine through careful written reflection. In everyday leadership, this means: don’t default to your preferred style. Some people need time to think. Others prefer sketches, diagrams, or talking it through. Some team members will bring unique wiring - sensory sensitivities, need for structure, or alternate problem-solving paths. A leader who adapts to those modalities invites more voices in and it’s on us to notice, adapt, and scaffold. 3. Model grace in the gap between expectation and execution One of my favourite moments is a scene where Patience misinterprets a chain of evidence, and Bea (the detective) might have sharply confronted her. Instead, she pauses, acknowledges the tension, and asks: “Tell me what you see. Where did it trip you up?” - not as blame, but as curiosity and partnership. Patience then re-frames, corrects, and they move forward together. That moment reminds me: leadership isn’t about never failing - it’s about how we respond when people stumble. Great leaders don’t hide disappointment or pretend failure doesn’t sting. But they don’t let it degrade dignity either. They see the gap, acknowledge it, and bring the other person along. Like the characters in Patience , teams and individuals need space to evolve. Good leaders balance high expectations with the grace to allow others to grow into their potential. For people navigating difference - learning curves, social fatigue, sensory overload - knowing a leader won’t abandon them when they struggle is incredibly powerful. For me, these lessons echo what leadership is really about: not the title or the pace, but the way we show up for people in the long run. So, how do these lessons meet inclusive leadership in practice? Start with listening: Before proposing change, ask how people prefer to take in information. Slow it down. Build in buffer space: Project plans and rhythms should allow “breathing room” - extra cycles for processing, reflection, iteration. Normalise asking for accommodations: Model vulnerability yourself (“I need a moment to think this through”) so others feel safe doing the same. Recognise that people shine in different ways: some do their best thinking in quiet bursts, others come alive through collaboration. 💬 Question for you Which of those three leadership lessons - patience as active, tailoring your approach, or grace in gaps - resonates most right now? How might you lean into it this week, especially for someone whose needs differ from yours?
