Key takeaways:
Compensation often looks like strong teamwork—but redistributes load unevenly
Over time, that redistribution creates dependency inside the team
What feels like responsiveness can quietly become structural fragility
Coordination is not about effort, but how the system holds the work
A team that cannot hold its own decisions will always feel heavier than it should
Strong leadership teams don’t always become more effective under pressure. Sometimes, they become more dependent.
Not obviously. Not all at once. But gradually, and often through the very behaviours that make them look strong in the first place.
People step in quickly. Problems are solved. Conversations move. Decisions get made.
From the outside, it can look like a team that is highly capable and deeply committed. But if you stay inside that system for long enough, something else begins to show.
The work keeps moving—but it doesn’t quite hold.
In this episode, I want to explore a shift that’s easy to miss, but has a significant impact on how leadership teams function over time: The difference between coordination and compensation.
Because most teams don’t fail because they stop working. They struggle because the way they are working quietly changes.
You can see this in small ways at first. A decision gets made in a meeting, but a few days later someone needs to clarify what was actually agreed. A conversation feels resolved, but it returns in a slightly different form the next time the group meets. Someone sends a follow-up message—not to extend the work, but to stabilise it.
None of this looks like a problem in isolation. In fact, it often looks like good leadership. People are being thorough. They’re making sure things are clear. They’re keeping momentum.
But over time, a pattern begins to form.
The same work is being done more than once. And when that happens consistently, it tells you something important—that the system is not holding the work.
Coordination is what allows a team to hold its work over time. Clarity remains intact. Decisions travel. Meaning is shared in a way that doesn’t need to be rebuilt every time.
Henry Mintzberg described coordination as the mechanism that allows complex systems to function without constant correction. When coordination is strong, the system doesn’t need to keep repairing itself.
Compensation creates a different dynamic. The work still moves forward—but only because someone keeps stepping in to hold it together.
Clarity is restored. Decisions are reinforced. Alignment is rebuilt. And what gets rebuilt once will need to be rebuilt again.
That’s the difference. Coordination allows the work to hold; compensation requires it to be carried.
Compensation doesn’t begin as a weakness. It begins as a response.
A decision feels unclear, so someone sharpens it. A conversation starts to drift, so someone redirects it. Tension appears, and someone absorbs it so the group can keep moving. And often, these are the most capable people in the room.
Which is why it works.
Karl Weick’s work helps explain this. In organisations, what happens repeatedly becomes what people come to rely on. Not because it was designed that way, but because it stabilises the moment.
Chris Argyris showed how groups develop routines that allow them to function smoothly while avoiding the need to examine what’s actually shaping their behaviour.
So compensation doesn’t just occur occasionally. It settles into the system.
Over time, something shifts.
The behaviours that once helped the team start to define it. Clarity is expected to be restored. Decisions are expected to be reinforced. Tension is expected to be carried.
Not by everyone. By a few.
And because those few are capable, the system continues to function.
But what looks like shared leadership is no longer shared. It’s being supplied.
And anything that has to be supplied continuously will eventually become depended upon.
This is where the structure of the team begins to change. Not visibly—but materially.
Cognitive load becomes uneven. A small number of people take on the responsibility of making sense of ambiguity, interpreting decisions, and ensuring continuity across conversations.
Emotional load follows the same pattern. Tension, frustration, uncertainty—these don’t disappear. They get absorbed. Usually by the same people.
Zembylas’ work on emotional labour makes this clear. When emotional work isn’t processed collectively, it doesn’t vanish. It is redistributed.
And then there’s time.
The meeting ends, but the work doesn’t. Someone clarifies the decision again. Someone re-aligns people who interpreted it differently. Someone restores momentum that didn’t quite carry forward.
At that point, the team is no longer coordinating its work. It is maintaining it.
And maintenance is always heavier than coordination.
This is what makes the pattern difficult to interrupt—because compensation works.
Problems are solved quickly. Meetings don’t stall. People step in without needing direction. From the outside, it can look like strong teamwork. But what’s actually happening is correction.
Eduardo Salas’ research on teams shows that effective coordination relies on shared mental models—an aligned understanding that allows people to anticipate each other’s actions without needing to constantly repair misunderstandings.
When that shared understanding is weak, teams don’t stop functioning; they compensate.
And compensation often looks like responsiveness. Until the cost becomes visible.
That cost doesn’t show up all at once. It builds.
Decisions need revisiting. Clarity erodes between meetings. Energy is spent maintaining alignment instead of extending it.
At the same time, participation begins to shift.
Amy Edmondson’s work helps explain this. When the conditions for contribution narrow, people don’t disengage immediately. They become more selective. They speak later. They filter more. Sometimes they stop contributing altogether.
And alongside that, emotional load becomes concentrated.
The system continues to function, but it becomes heavier to be part of because the work is no longer being held collectively—it’s being carried.
So the question is not simply how to improve communication or decision-making.
The deeper question is: What is the system actually doing with the work?
Is it holding it collectively? Or is it redistributing it quietly across a few people?
Because that distinction determines whether the team becomes stronger over time … or more dependent.
If you want to see this more clearly, you don’t need a new framework. You need to watch your next leadership meeting differently.
Notice where clarity needs to be restored after the meeting ends. Notice who tends to step in first—and how that shapes the rest of the conversation. Notice where tension is resolved quickly, and where it might have needed to be held longer. And notice whether decisions hold … or whether they return.
These aren’t small details. They are signals—they tell you whether the system is coordinating or compensating.
Everything here comes back to a simple idea: a team that cannot hold its own work will always feel like it is working harder than it should.
Because effort is being used to maintain what coordination should have sustained.
So the question is not whether the team is working.
It’s whether the team is holding itself.
If this is something you are starting to recognise in your own leadership, I will include a link in the description where you can explore the Leadership Archetypes framework in more detail.
And if you want to look more closely at what might be happening in your own team, I also offer a Leadership Pressure Diagnostic — a focused conversation to help make those patterns visible before they quietly become the way everything works.
Leadership Archetypes framework
Leadership Pressure Diagnostic
I also encourage you to download my latest complimentary leadership paper: The Leadership Pressure Triangle