It’s Not a Phase, Mom!

Every Tuesday, The Productive Disruptive delivers storytelling science, message makeovers, cultural commentary, and a little rebellious hope for anyone still stubborn enough to believe communication can change the world.

Did a wise PHriend forward this to you? [Subscribe here.]

There’s a kind of mess that can show up in group work and spook people fast.

Confusion and tension.
People blaming each other.
Slow progress and tiny wins that feel like a mere pittance since there’s soooo much further to go.

Working in public health or social change, you’ve undoubtedly seen it.

I feel most people would look at that kind of mess and start telling themselves a story.

This is dysfunctional and beyond repair.

But sometimes what looks like dysfunction can actually be a group moving through a hard but recognizable phase of change.

And this is so important.

Because if you don’t have a good map for how groups move through change, it gets really easy to misread the moment you are in.

You start calling friction failure.

Confusion collapse.

And sometimes, that’s actually not happening at all.

Here is a helpful frame to make it make sense.

Group change moves through stages.

Something sparks the need for change.
People get scared, confused, and start pointing fingers.
A dedicated few get to work where the increments look small before they look significant.
Then momentum starts to build, shifts, and brings in people nobody saw coming.

Three broad movements: Departure, Initiation, and Return.

Departure is when something sparks the need for change. People realize something ain’t right, it’s not working, and it cannot keep going as is. This is also where confusion and finger-pointing can show up.

Initiation is where a lot of the mess lives. Small local work can build momentum and ultimately lead to the birth of a movement.

Return is when the group dials it in. New insight, the collective good prevails, and even new (and often unexpected) allies show up.

Now, humans gon human. Simple does not mean easy.

Collective change is rarely clean or linear. But it might also not be random.

Patterns emerge.

Not knowing that, you can start telling yourself the wrong story too soon.

You can see tension and assume the group is doomed.

Or slow progress and assume nothing's cooking.

You can get tunnel-visioned on tiny wins and miss that they may be laying the groundwork for something bigger.

That is where I think this becomes useful for storytelling.

Because helping people tell better stories is not just about writing more vividly.

It is also about helping them interpret what they are seeing more accurately.

🧠 Story Science Side Note: Humans tend to hate uncertainty.

Like, haaaaate it. Low tolerance for it.

Ambiguity makes a lot of us itchy. We want to know what’s going on, what it means, and whether we should be worried.

Psychologists call this need for cognitive closure: the desire for a firm answer and ick for “up in the air” things.

So when a group feels chaotic, it can be real tempting to grab the first explanation that gives the moment clarity, such as “this is a lost cause”.

The issue? That quick meaning is not always accurate meaning.

https://psycnet.apa.org/record/2009-12071-023

📝 Message Makeover:

Before: This group is falling apart.
After: This group may be moving through departure. Are we jumping to premature conclusions?

Trust me, I realize how damn hard it is to sit with that

🛠️ The PHacilitator’s Corner:

The next time a messy group moment makes you want to say,
“Yeah, this is cooked,”

Before you narrate the moment, ask:

  • Am I describing what happened, or jumping to what I think it means?

  • What phase of change might I be looking at?

Remember, humans tend not to like ambiguity, and tolerating discomfort truly is a skill.

The first story that brings relief may not always be the truest one.

Sometimes the better storytelling move is to slow down long enough to tell a story with more context, more accuracy, and less panic.

Take a deeeeeeeeep breath.

I cannot overstate just how challenging that is. It’s also paradoxical cause we want the closure!

Why am I still making bisque in late April?🥶

How’d I do?