bureaucracy – Grandpa Bob Encouraging Leadership

There once was a village named Smithville, tucked neatly beneath a mountain. Life was simple until the mayor spotted a massive boulder teetering on the slope. Experts confirmed the obvious. The massive boulder might fall and crush the town.

In a flash of civic urgency, the mayor declared: “We must secure the boulder!” And so they did. With ropes, pulleys, and sheer determination, ten villagers at a time held the lines to keep the boulder in place. They rotated shifts around the clock. It became routine, then tradition, then law.

Children sang, “Hold the boulder, hold the boulder, we must resolve to hold that boulder!” before school each morning. A cabin was built for the rope holders. A trail crew was hired to keep the path safe for the endless march of workers. Rope suppliers prospered since the intricate rope system required constant maintenance. Soon, nearly half the town’s budget went to “boulder security.”

Still, the village flourished. Visitors came to marvel at the rope-wrapped rock. “Come see our mighty gravity defying boulder!” proclaimed their glossy posters. A bond was passed to fund a visitor center and tour buses. Hotels filled. Restaurants boomed. Property values soared near “Boulder View Estates.”

One day, a newcomer named Brunswick questioned the logic of leaving the boulder where it was. “Why not break the boulder into smaller, harmless pieces?” The council laughed at his question.

The mayor beamed with pride, “Our boulder isn’t a threat. It’s our livelihood! Besides, we have a rope system to protect us.”

The townspeople nodded, waving their SAVE OUR BOULDER signs in support.

Who could argue with prosperity?

Brunswick left shaking his head.

Years later, despite the ropes, despite the cables, despite the slogans, the inevitable happened. That winter, the boulder grew heavier than ever with snow and ice. Villagers had trouble reaching the ropes, as storms blocked the trail. Shifts went unfilled. Fewer villagers meant fewer ropes to hold the boulder.

“The forecasters said it wouldn’t be this bad,” the mayor reassured them, as though the weather itself had broken its promise.

Workers tugged and shouted, trying to keep their grip. Fingers numbed, feet slipped, and a few gave up entirely. The remaining ropes snapped one by one. The sound echoed through the valley like rifle shots. The mountain itself seemed to groan.

Then came the moment. The final rope gave way with a thunderous crack. The boulder lurched forward, dragging what remained of the cable nets with it.

As it tumbled down the mountain, the ground shook violently. Houses rattled, dishes shattered, and children screamed.

The mighty rock careened toward the valley, smashing trees like twigs and carving deep scars into the earth. Clouds of dust rose as if the mountain were on fire. Each bounce sent shockwaves through Smithville, knocking people off their feet. The villagers ran in terror, listening to the deafening roar as the great stone rolled ever closer.

When it finally came to rest, the devastation was complete. The visitor center lay in ruins. Boulder View Estates was flattened into rubble. Streets were cracked, and smoke rose from shattered chimneys.

Yet by some miracle, no one was hurt. The thunder of the falling boulder gave everyone time to flee. Amid the destruction, whispers of a miracle could be heard all over the battered town.

As the dust cleared, townsfolk began to consider their plans for rebuilding. Some sketched designs for a grand new visitor center. This one would tell the story of The Great Fall.

A five-year plan was drafted to study rope alternatives, complete with a Rope Oversight Committee and quarterly progress reports.

Bureaucracy bloomed again, strong as ever.

Though no one mentioned the missing boulder.

Story behind the image – I used Google’s new Nano Banana image generator for this image. I asked it to produce a large and evil boulder sitting on top of a mountain, held by ropes, overlooking a nice town that it’s threatening…in a cartoonish style. This is the first image it produced. It missed the part about the ropes, but I like the over-the-top (see what I did there?) theme of this rendering. And that boulder may appear in a few more stories in the future.

It’s easy to fall into the rut.

To assume that delays are normal.
That long lead times are just “the way things are.”
That bureaucracy is an immovable force we’re all meant to quietly and endlessly orbit.

But here’s the question we should be asking:
Does something really take months to get done…or is that just the rut talking?

Ruts are sneaky. They dress up as policies, forms, regulatory frameworks, meetings, approvals.

They start small. Maybe with one postponed decision or an overcautious email. Before long, they’re a deep trench. One that feels safer to live in than escape.

Some processes do require time. Some decisions need careful research and thoughtful consideration.

But not everything takes as long as we pretend. And if we’re being honest, we often lean on red tape as a crutch. To justify inaction, to mask fear, to cover for indecision, to avoid risk. Maybe to avoid the work altogether.

We say things like:

-“That’s how our system works.”

-“These things take time.”

-“We’ll have to check with Legal.”

-“I’m waiting on approvals before I can move forward.”

But what if we stopped waiting?

The 10 Million Dollar Question:

If you or your organization were promised $10 million the moment this project is completed—this thing you’re currently delaying—how long would it actually take to finish?

-How focused would you suddenly become?
-How many hurdles would get knocked out of your way?
-How quickly would meetings be scheduled, decisions made, and steps taken?

If your answer is “much faster,” then the rut is running the show. You’re not stuck. You and your organization are settling for the slow lane.

What if we challenge the assumptions about how long things should take?

What if we stop admiring and massaging the problem and started solving it?

What if we stop delegating or offloading the issue to another department, and just fixed it ourselves…today?

Organizations that resist the rut move faster. They ask better questions. They take the time to consider how to eliminate hurdles. They focus on outcomes, not just process. They know when structure helps, and when it hinders. They trim what’s unnecessary and protect what’s essential.

This isn’t about being reckless. It’s about refusing to be lulled into complacency. It’s about bringing urgency back to the table.

It’s about remembering that progress often begins with someone brave enough to say: “Why not now?”

If you’re feeling stuck, ask yourself:
-Are you really bound by rules and timelines? Or just by a habit of delay?

Resist the rut.

Challenge the default.

Challenge the impossible and make it possible.

Push for better.

It might take less time than you think.

h/t – my colleague, Jacob Smith. An extremely productive and prolific software development manager who regularly challenges the default and always pushes for better.

Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash