Where Your System Still Depends on You
I spent an hour last week trying to figure out why something felt wrong.
The metrics were fine. The team was delivering. No fires. No urgent threads. The kind of quiet that should feel like progress.
Instead, it felt like waiting.
I started digging. Not into what was broken, but into what was paused. What decisions were sitting idle. What conversations were stalled. What work was technically ready to move but wasn’t moving.
The pattern that emerged was uncomfortable.
Nothing was blocked by a problem. Everything was blocked by me.
Not because I was slow to respond. Because the system had learned to wait for me even when it didn’t need to.
The Dependency You Don’t See
Most dependency doesn’t look dramatic. It looks polite.
A Slack thread sits idle because someone says, “Let’s wait and run this by you.” The decision criteria were documented months ago. The threshold is clear. The team knows the answer. They wait anyway.
A meeting stays on the calendar even though no real decisions happen there. It exists to reassure everyone that alignment still holds. The outcomes don’t change. The comfort does.
A system technically works, but no one trusts it until you confirm what the numbers mean.
Nothing is broken. Nothing is on fire. And yet, nothing moves without you.
This was the uncomfortable realization. We had spent months building systems that could run independently. The infrastructure was there. The authority was clear. The guardrails were designed.
The dependency persisted anyway.
Not because the system couldn’t handle it. Because somewhere along the way, it learned not to try.
What Stops When You Step Away
I started with one question:
What stops when I’m unavailable?
Not what slows down. What stops.
The answers were revealing in ways I wasn’t prepared for.
Decisions paused even when the criteria were clear. Not complex decisions. Reversible ones. Decisions where failure would have been cheap and recovery automatic. They waited because stepping back to confirm felt safer than stepping forward alone.
Approvals existed not because the risk was high, but because recovery paths were unclear. Teams treated approval as the safety mechanism instead of designing rollback that made approval optional.
Meetings continued because they reassured people that direction held. The agendas were light. The outcomes predictable. They persisted because removing them felt like removing supervision.
Escalations reached me that should have been routine. Predictable issues. Repetitive patterns. Problems well within known bounds. They escalated not because they were novel, but because boundaries were never explicit enough for anyone to feel safe handling them alone.
I thought I had designed systems that could move without me. What I discovered was that I had designed systems that could move without me but had never fully trusted them to.
Neither had my team.
The Pattern That Repeats
The most uncomfortable discovery showed up in the wins.
I looked at the last quarter’s biggest successes. The deals we closed. The launches we executed. The problems we solved under pressure.
They worked. They worked well.
But when I asked whether they could repeat without me, the answer was no.
Success had required late nights, personal intervention, one-off exceptions. It felt good in the moment. It created invisible debt later.
My team would say, “Only you could have closed that.” It sounded like a compliment. It was a red flag. It taught the system that uncertainty belonged at the top, not in the workflow.
The systems could handle routine. They couldn’t handle ambiguity. And because I kept stepping in during ambiguity, they never learned how.
Why January Feels Heavy
This matters now because January is when dependency gets expensive.
Q1 doesn’t fail because of bad strategy. It fails because too many things still lean on one person.
Dependency doesn’t scale. It accumulates.
Every small pause becomes friction. Every approval becomes delay. Every clarification becomes a bottleneck. By March, you feel busy but can’t explain why progress feels heavy.
The answer is almost always here. In the dependency created while autonomy was being talked about.
I’ve seen this pattern across leadership teams. When you audit what actually stops without executive input, most of it doesn’t need that input. The dependency exists because the system was never given permission to move alone.
Not because it couldn’t. Because no one trusted that it could.
What I’m Doing About It
I’m not fixing it yet. I’m naming it first.
By Friday, I’m writing down:
- Which decisions paused when I wasn’t there
- Which approvals blocked motion even when criteria were clear
- Which meetings reassured instead of resolved
- Which systems needed me to translate data into action
- Which wins depended on me personally instead of the system
That list isn’t a failure. It’s the roadmap.
Where dependency exists, design hasn’t finished. Or trust hasn’t been granted. Sometimes both.
The redesign comes next.
But first, I need to see what’s actually still leaning on me. Not what I think should be autonomous. What actually is.
The gap between those two is where the work lives.