Tag: Work

  • The Multipliers of Clarity: How Some People Multiply Business Value

    The Multipliers of Clarity: How Some People Multiply Business Value

    You’ve probably worked with someone like this. They don’t say much in meetings. They’re rarely in a rush. They don’t fight for credit. And yet, when they’re around, everything just seems to work.

    Projects that used to drag start moving. Conversations feel clearer. Teams find rhythm again. No one can quite explain it — but with them in the mix, the system somehow aligns. It’s not charisma or luck. It’s a way of seeing.

    And before you ask — no, there’s no research paper to prove this. It’s something you notice only after years of watching projects rise and fall. Some people don’t just improve things — they multiply them.

    The People Who See the System

    Every workplace has its visible stars — the quick thinkers, the confident presenters, the ones who light up dashboards. But alongside them exist a few who see differently.

    They understand how things connect. They can sense where friction will appear and quietly smooth it out. They see how one rushed decision in design can create two weeks of rework downstream. They notice when incentives in one team silently create conflict in another.

    And to be clear — they don’t all look the same. Some are loud and visible, others are calm and understated. Some lead teams, others lead thinking. This isn’t about personality. It’s about pattern awareness — the ability to step back, connect dots, and act early.

    They might not always fit traditional molds, but they’re far from outsiders. In fact, they’re often right in the center of things — just focused on how the whole system works, not only their piece of it.

    While most people focus on doing more, these people focus on removing what doesn’t need to be done at all. That’s how they multiply productivity — not through more effort, but through better alignment.

    The Compound Effect of Curiosity

    These people rarely start out as the best performers. What sets them apart is how they learn — slowly, broadly, and constantly. They read across worlds — psychology, mathematics, strategy, philosophy, even fiction. Not to collect facts, but to understand how different systems work and fail.

    Over time, this learning compounds. They start to see patterns that repeat everywhere — in behavior, markets, organizations, even themselves. That steady accumulation of insight slowly turns into foresight.

    What looks like instinct from the outside is actually years of absorbed learning — tested quietly, remembered deeply, and cross-applied intuitively. It’s not hearsay. It’s curiosity that has matured into clarity. And when they speak, it sounds like wisdom — not because they’re preaching, but because they’ve lived the pattern before. They don’t theorize. They recall. This is how constant curiosity becomes practical foresight, and reflection turns into something that feels like intuition.

    Their real gift is anticipation. They sense friction before others feel it. They might quietly adjust a timeline, realign two people before tension surfaces, or tweak a process that’s about to break under pressure. Problems don’t reach them — because they’ve already met them halfway.

    When they’re around, everything feels smoother. But that ease isn’t luck — it’s invisible work, built on pattern recognition and foresight. The fires they prevent never make it into reports. Their impact is hard to measure, but impossible to replace.

    A Different Rhythm, a Deeper Impact

    These people don’t always operate at the same tempo as everyone else. They pause where others rush. They ask questions that momentarily slow the room — but those same questions prevent weeks of rework later.

    They think out loud, explore broadly, and sometimes look like they’re moving slower — but they’re seeing further. In a world that prizes speed, they invest in understanding.

    Their process takes longer to show results, but those results last. What looks like detours become shortcuts later. They’re not inefficient — they’re building clarity that compounds. Their curiosity matures over time into a kind of calm precision.

    How to Recognize Them

    You won’t find them through dashboards or quarterly reviews. You notice them in conversation. They make complex things sound simple — not by dumbing them down, but by getting to the root of what matters. Or they connect dots so far apart that you need a moment to catch up.

    They ask questions that stop the room — the kind that shift the discussion from “how” to “why.” They bring energy that steadies, not noise that distracts. And when they’re empowered, the whole organization starts to move with more coherence, calm, and confidence.

    The Edge That Endures

    Tools and technologies will keep changing — mobile, cloud, AI, and everything that follows. But the people who can see systems early will always stay relevant. When tools change, they learn them. When complexity grows, they simplify it. When the environment shifts, they reframe it until it makes sense again.

    The long time they’ve spent learning and crafting their thoughts stays with them for life. It becomes part of their lens — a quiet foundation that doesn’t age, even when everything else changes.

    They bridge what most people separate — logic and empathy, data and meaning, motion and direction. As AI handles execution, these people become even more vital. Because tools can speed up action, but only humans can see the whole system and guide it forward.

    A Closing Thought

    We talk about productivity as if it’s about doing more. But the kind that truly scales comes from people who help everyone do better.

    They turn curiosity into foresight, reflection into quiet wisdom, and learning into momentum that compounds across the system. They make work smoother, smarter, lighter — not because it’s easy, but because they’ve understood the structure beneath it.

    Every organization has them — visible or quiet, new or seasoned. Spot them. Empower them. Then watch your productivity, energy, and delivery zoom upward.

    Because when you nurture the people who see systems early, you don’t just multiply results — you multiply understanding, flow, and business value that lasts.

  • The Systems We Work In

    The Systems We Work In

    Layoffs in Strong Companies

    In recent years, many companies have announced large rounds of layoffs, sometimes while still reporting strong financial results. For employees, this can be confusing — if the organization is not in crisis, why must people lose their jobs? For leaders, the explanation often comes down to discipline, restructuring, or preparing for uncertain times. Both views exist, both carry their own logic, and both leave questions behind.

    When Loyalty Feels Like Baggage

    From an employee’s perspective, the experience feels deeply personal.
    If times are difficult, why am I asked to face them alone instead of with the team I was part of? When did I become baggage to the organization I contributed to? If my role had become less relevant, why was I not trained earlier, when I was still inside the system?

    These questions are not about entitlement but about continuity. They reflect a belief that the collective should carry individuals through difficult times, just as individuals contribute when times are good.

    Loyalty feels different when it is not returned.

    Decisions Framed as Survival

    From the organization’s perspective, the answers sound different. A company is not designed to guarantee roles indefinitely — it is built to sustain the organization as a whole. When functions lose relevance, or when growth projections shift, leaders feel pressure to respond quickly. Redeployment or retraining may be possible in some cases, but not always at the speed markets demand. In this view, difficult choices about individuals are framed as necessary for the survival of the larger group.

    The Incentives Behind the Actions

    Beyond leaders and employees lies the system itself — the set of incentives and rules that guide how organizations behave. This system often rewards speed, efficiency, and visible action more than patience or loyalty.

    Financial markets tend to applaud cost reductions. Analysts interpret layoffs as discipline, a signal that leadership is willing to act decisively. Boards measure success through quarterly earnings and margins, which rarely capture the value of culture, trust, or long-term skill building. Governments, depending on context, may provide safety nets or remain hands-off, but in either case the boundaries of action are set outside the control of individuals.

    In such a design, our behavior is shaped less by personal values and more by the incentives around us. A leader may believe in shared sacrifice, but if delaying layoffs leads to investor pressure and falling stock value, the space to act differently narrows. An employee may believe that loyalty secures belonging, but if the system defines relevance in terms of financial contribution, that loyalty holds limited weight.

    The result is a cycle: growth slows, analysts downgrade, boards push for action, companies announce cuts, stock prices rise, executives are rewarded, and employees absorb the disruption. No single actor sets this chain in motion, but each of us plays our part within it.

    The machine moves, even when no one wants to push it.

    The Visibility of Leadership Choices

    Layoffs are often framed as difficult but necessary — yet the financial impact rarely falls evenly. Employees lose their jobs, while executives often retain their compensation or even receive rewards for cost-cutting. From the outside, this creates a visible contrast between those who carry the immediate loss and those who continue to lead.

    Leaders operate under constant pressure from boards, markets, and investors to act quickly and maintain confidence. Their pay structures, often set long in advance, are designed to signal continuity and control, not indifference. Cutting their own compensation may have little financial effect but can introduce new risks — unsettling markets or creating uncertainty when steadiness is most needed.

    Both perspectives hold their own truth. For employees, the absence of shared sacrifice can feel like distance. For leaders, stability can feel like duty.

    The same decision can look firm from one side and detached from another. And perhaps that’s the nature of leadership — to be seen differently, depending on where one stands.

    Layoffs as Human Events

    Layoffs also bring an emotional weight that goes beyond numbers. For those leaving, the stress is immediate — financial uncertainty, disruption of routine, and the sense of identity tied to work suddenly cut off. For those who remain, there is survivor’s guilt, anxiety about the future, and reduced trust in the stability of their own roles. Even leaders, though often viewed as distant decision-makers, carry pressure of a different kind: knowing that their choices affect lives, while also being measured against unforgiving financial targets.

    This stress reminds us that layoffs are not only structural adjustments. They are human events that touch us all in different ways.

    The impact lingers long after financial charts move on. Culture changes quietly, long before balance sheets notice.

    Employees, Organizations, and the Larger Ecosystem

    A common expectation is that working for a well-regarded company provides security. Yet even the best companies cannot guarantee permanent jobs. What they can offer are opportunities for learning, growth, and contribution. Here, responsibility does not end with the organization. Employees also carry a role: to remain skillful, to adapt as industries change, and to build their own safety nets — financial, professional, and social. This shift in perspective moves the focus from job security to career resilience.

    Organizations, for their part, exist primarily to create value and profits. Jobs are not their final purpose, but one of the ways in which they achieve outcomes. The best organizations try to balance this profit orientation with humanity — by creating learning opportunities, supporting transitions, and avoiding unnecessary harm. Still, their actions are shaped by wider dynamics: market cycles, investor expectations, and competitive pressures. Even with good intentions, no company can offer stability to every individual.

    But when we step back, we see that both employees and organizations contribute to the larger ecosystem. Employees carry their skills and values across roles and companies, strengthening society as a whole. Organizations generate opportunities and progress while pursuing profits. The system does not remove responsibility from either side. But it does set the boundaries within which all of us must act.

    Speed with Humanity

    If layoffs remain a tool companies reach for, the question becomes how to manage them in ways that do less damage to trust and culture. Certain policies can provide balance while still allowing organizations to act quickly.

    Not everyone may agree with these approaches, and my own thoughts may evolve with time. But today, when I reflect on what could bring some balance, these steps feel like a better way forward:

    • Continue health benefits for up to a year
    • Extend access to learning resources even after departure
    • Facilitate job transitions by connecting departing employees to new opportunities
    • Reduce workweeks temporarily or allow voluntary salary cuts before job losses
    • Link executive rewards directly to workforce stability

    These measures are not meant to dilute urgency. Speed, adaptability, and financial recovery remain critical to organizational survival. The intent is not to make decisions slower, but to make them fairer — to design responses that act quickly without eroding trust. When empathy outweighs efficiency, execution falters; when efficiency ignores empathy, culture weakens. The true balance lies between the two.

    Living Inside the System We Built

    Layoffs illustrate the tension between loyalty and efficiency, between individual expectations and systemic rules. Employees, leaders, investors, and governments all play their roles, yet the system often shapes behavior more than any one person’s intent.

    The question is less about blame and more about balance — how to preserve efficiency without losing humanity, and how to distribute opportunities so more people can flourish.

    Tulsidas ji wrote:
    दया धर्म का मूल है, पाप मूल अभिमान।
    तुलसी दया न छोड़िये, जब लग घट में प्राण॥

    Meaning: Compassion is the root of righteousness; pride is the root of wrongdoing.

    In today’s context, it reminds us that empathy belongs to everyone — to employees facing loss, to leaders making difficult choices, and to stakeholders carrying expectations of growth.

    Each sees the system from a different distance, yet all are bound by it. Empathy, in the end, is not sentiment but understanding — the ability to see another’s position without surrendering your own.

    And perhaps that is enough — not to remove the tension, but to live with it consciously. Because in the end, we all live inside the system we have built.

    Disclaimer:- This piece is not about any single company or moment — only about the shared systems we all live and work within.

  • Two Games, Same Sport

    Two Games, Same Sport

    The stadium fills up quickly. Lights, music, noise. Powerplays begin. Boundaries come early, and every ball feels like an event. A single delivery can shift momentum—a mistimed shot, a clever slower ball, or a missed yorker. There’s little time to settle. The game moves fast. That’s T20.

    A few weeks later, it feels different. The morning air is cooler. The red ball swings early. The field changes, tight at times, spread at others. Bowlers settle into their rhythm, working long spells, setting traps. Batters leave more than they play. Here, a single mistake might not cost much right away, but small patterns of error can build up. Every session feels like its own quiet contest. Winning the day is made up of many such moments. That’s Test cricket.

    Work often shifts between these. Some days move like T20s—quick deadlines, immediate feedback, decisions made in real-time. Product releases, customer issues, market shifts. All asking for quick answers. New tools pop up, like AI, promising shortcuts. The scoreboard moves fast.

    Then there are days that feel more like Tests. Deeper work. Designing foundations, solving complex problems, shaping teams. The outcomes here aren’t immediate, but they quietly compound. A design choice today might shape the product for years. A hire today could shape the culture for even longer.

    Both rhythms exist side by side. A quick release in the morning, followed by a long review in the afternoon. An urgent patch, then a strategy discussion that stretches for hours. The game changes formats constantly.

    Life feels like this, too. In younger years, it’s often closer to a T20. Everything’s an opportunity. The energy to chase them all. Swinging freely. Moving fast.

    But eventually, responsibilities arrive. Quietly at first, then surely. Family. People who count on you. The game stretches out. You start planning for longer innings. You leave a few deliveries alone, choose when to play, and learn to let some opportunities pass. Others, you create patiently. Beneath it all, there’s always more happening. Bowlers set things up—swing, bounce, variations—but someone still has to score the runs, one at a time. Singles, partnerships, sessions stitched together.

    In work and life, opportunities appear. Some are created by teams, by timing, by conditions aligning. But it still rests on individuals to convert them. Quietly doing the work. Taking singles when boundaries aren’t there. Handling difficult spells without letting them spiral. Sometimes, you’re both bowler and batter. Creating chances for others, while also carrying the responsibility to move the scoreboard. Much of it comes down to how you absorb what’s thrown at you, and how you choose to respond. Some days ask for patience, others for courage, and sometimes, it’s just about showing up and doing the job.

    And then, without warning, the conditions change. The clouds roll in. The ball starts swinging. What worked earlier doesn’t seem to anymore. In work, markets move, technologies evolve, roles shift. In life, new situations emerge unexpectedly.

    A good player adjusts. Sometimes, the adjustment works. Other times, it doesn’t. Wins and losses follow, but they’re carried lightly. The plan shifts to the next innings, the next opportunity. But always, the game moves only when you’re at the crease. Intent doesn’t add to the score. The delivery must be played. The work must be done. That’s when it turns real.

    Over time, the formats blur. Work and life, short bursts and long stretches, fast moves and patient waiting—they all belong to the same game. The skill isn’t in choosing one over the other. It’s in staying present, watching the conditions, adjusting when needed, and playing the next ball. The rest? Just format.

  • Still in Orbit: The Pluto Story We All Share

    Still in Orbit: The Pluto Story We All Share

    We spend a large chunk of our lives—sometimes 50 to 60%—at work. It’s an essential part of our existence, shaping not just what we do, but often, who we are.

    Recently, I was reading about Pluto’s reclassification, and it struck me: there’s something deeply human about Pluto’s story. It mirrors many of the dynamics we navigate in our careers. So here’s my take on Pluto moments—and why they matter at work.

    Pluto: A Brief History of Reclassification

    Discovered in 1930 by astronomer Clyde Tombaugh, Pluto was celebrated as the ninth planet in our solar system. For over 75 years, it orbited quietly and faithfully at the edge of our celestial family.

    But Pluto was different. It’s smaller than our moon, with a tilted and elongated orbit. It takes 248 Earth years to complete one revolution around the sun.

    In 2006, Pluto was reclassified as a dwarf planet. Not because it had changed—but because the definition of a planet did.

    And just like that, a planet was no longer a planet.

    The Workplace Has Its Own Pluto Moments

    In our careers, many of us go through a Pluto moment.

    You put in the work. You lead. You fix what’s broken. You stay late. You deliver results. You make others’ lives easier. And yet, one day, the spotlight shifts. Recognition doesn’t come. Others—perhaps louder or more visible—move forward. You stay where you are.

    You begin to wonder: Did I stop being valuable? Or did the definition of success just change?

    Often, it’s not you—it’s the system. Like Pluto, your orbit hasn’t changed. Only the metrics have. Company culture evolves. Leadership expectations shift. Suddenly, visibility and perception matter more than quiet impact.

    If You’re in a Pluto Moment—Keep Orbiting

    It’s tempting to slow down or give up when you feel unseen. But Pluto never stopped orbiting the sun. It didn’t shrink. It didn’t rebel. It simply kept moving, true to its path.

    If you’re in that moment—don’t let it define your worth.

    Keep doing what you do best: build, fix, support, lead. You have gravity—even if it’s quiet.

    Workplace dynamics are always shifting. One day you’re celebrated, the next you’re overlooked. That’s when it’s most important to remember: the system is bigger than you. Your value doesn’t vanish just because someone didn’t call it out.

    Stay in your orbit. Keep showing up.

    If You’re a Leader—Don’t Miss the Plutos

    Every team has its Plutos. The steady fixers. The quiet doers. The ones who aren’t posting wins, but creating them for others.

    As leaders, we have an opportunity to:

    • See outcomes, not just optics
    • Recognize impact, not just volume
    • Give direction, not just ratings
    • Shine light, not just cast shadows

    Leadership isn’t easy. We juggle priorities, manage teams, hit goals. It’s easy to reward the visible, the vocal, the ones who shine on stage.

    But we must also build systems that surface silent strength. That catch the ones holding the fort while others walk the stage. Recognition doesn’t need a spotlight. It just needs sincerity—and timing.

    When you lead like the sun—steady, generous, life-giving—your team feels your orbit too.

    The Closing Orbit

    Pluto may no longer be a planet on paper. But it didn’t lose its purpose. It still orbits. It still belongs. It still matters.

    Whether you’re going through a Pluto phase, or you’re in a position to notice someone else’s—honor the orbit. Value quiet strength. Lead with light.

    We all face Pluto phase in our careers. But they don’t define us. They refine us.

    And when the time comes for you to shine—look around. There are Plutos beside you. Acknowledge them. Support them. Help them shine too.