Why People Resist Organizational Change

I’ve sat with this question more than once. And the more I return to it, the more I believe the answer isn’t about apathy. It’s about protection.

In schools, in families, in workplaces, many of us have been taught that staying quiet keeps us safe. That if we speak up, we might get shut down, dismissed, or punished for being “too much.” And so we learn to sit on our truths. We disengage, not because we don’t want better, but because it feels safer not to hope.

That makes sense to me. But it also breaks my heart.

Because I’ve also seen what’s possible when people feel safe enough to speak honestly, imagine boldly, and take risks together. I’ve felt the energy shift when a room moves from guarded silence to collective courage. And I know that kind of transformation is possible—not just in theory, but in practice.

So how do we create the conditions for that to happen?

What Helps People Step Into Change

This isn’t a step-by-step process, but here are some of the truths I’ve gathered in my work and reflection:

1. People need their fear to be seen, not dismissed.

Before people engage, they need to know their caution is valid. That it makes sense. We can’t push people into transformation. We have to invite them, gently and earnestly.

2. People rise when they’re called into something bigger than themselves.

Validation is important, but so is aspiration. People want to grow. They want to matter. Offering care and inviting people to step into their power can be transformative.

3. Truth-telling builds trust, especially when it’s shared.

In my work, I often name the unsaid things in the room. But the goal isn’t to hold the spotlight. It’s to model vulnerability so others feel like they can do the same. Change takes root when truth becomes collective.

4. Emotional safety isn’t about comfort—it’s about capacity.

Being honest helps people feel seen. But honesty alone isn’t enough. We need to hold space for people to process what’s real, then support them in imagining something different. Transformation moves from truth → to feeling → to possibility.

5. Lasting change requires shared risk and responsibility.

Once a vision for something new becomes clear, everyone with a stake in the outcome has a role to play. Those with greater positional power carry a particular responsibility: not just to participate, but to actively remove barriers so others can engage. Change can’t be the job of a select few or the most burdened; it must be distributed, held, and resourced by the whole.

Beyond Strategy: A Human Approach to Change

Despite clear invitations, bold aspirations, and structures designed for care, some people will still choose to disengage. And that’s okay.

Not everyone is moved by the same spark. For some, imagination and access aren’t enough. Courage must come from something more personal. Sometimes it takes a breaking point, a quiet reckoning, or a moment of truth that says, “enough.”

Transformation isn’t a mandate—it’s a crossing. And everyone arrives in their own time. And, respecting autonomy, understanding past trauma, and honoring the messiness that comes with change isn’t lowering the bar. It raises the integrity of the transformative process.

This kind of transformation isn’t just strategic, it’s deeply human. It’s not about having the perfect process, but about having the courage to co-create new ways of being with each other.

In the spaces I facilitate, I lead with authenticity and humility because I’ve seen how often people are hardened by spaces that don’t allow them to show up fully. But I also don’t sugarcoat. I speak sharply when needed, because clarity builds trust. I name what’s unsaid, not to dominate, but to make room for everyone else’s truth to surface.

Still, even with all this, I’ve learned that real change requires more than one person’s modeling. It requires infrastructure and practices that carry care across every level of an organization. That might mean priming decision-making spaces to be more inclusive. Or being intentional in how information is shared. It means recognizing that “input” from marginalized voices doesn’t matter unless the system is ready to receive it with seriousness.

With this, I invite you to reflect:

• When have you pulled back from change, even when it mattered to you?

• What would help you feel more ready to engage?

• How can we design spaces where people move from self-protection into shared participation?

I’d love to hear your thoughts.