How to beat change fatigue
We live in a world of increasing change. The international order is shifting and political certainties are evaporating day by day. Technological shifts are changing how we experience the world and interact with others. And in the workplace, AI is poised to unleash what might be the most revolutionary set of changes humanity has experienced since the first hunter-gatherers settled down to grow crops and build cities.
But while change is everywhere, we still find it hard to manage. The statistics around organizational change have always been brutal. For at least the last quarter century, corporate transformation efforts have failed at a remarkable rate: only three out of ten are brought to something approaching a successful conclusion. The age of AI will make things even more challenging. We will need to adapt more rapidly and more comprehensively, and we will need to manage multiple layers of continuous change at any one time.
How will we cope? Many different factors contribute to making change hard, but one in particular stands out: change is tiring. At the human level, constant transformation depletes our energy, attention, and commitment. At the organizational level, this depletion translates into stalled initiatives, institutional resistance, and a diminishing capacity for further adaptation.
To make the process of change navigable for real humans—rather than the compliant ideals who often appear in strategy decks—we need to rethink how we understand change. We need to find the stable foundations that persist amidst the maelstrom of transformation.
The adaptation fallacy
The standard response to the reality of ever-increasing change is to insist that individuals and organizations simply adapt to it. “Everything flows,” as the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus is reported to have said. The world is in flux, nothing is fixed, and we should all get used to the idea that the stability of the past was just a temporary illusion.
This ancient wisdom has become something of a cliché, the “It is what it is” of the business world. It is offered up as a slogan to hold onto, a manifesto that distils the increasingly rapid change of the Fourth Industrial Revolution. But it doesn’t do much to help people stay afloat.
Human beings are not infinitely malleable. There is a psychological and physical toll to constant, chaotic change that compounds in two distinct ways.
The first is the sheer quantity of simultaneous initiatives—the burden of switching between half a dozen transformation efforts at once. People find themselves juggling competing priorities, each with its own vocabulary, metrics, and demands on their attention. It becomes hard to see the big picture because the parts never stay still long enough to focus. The cognitive overhead of keeping track of everything crowds out the close attention that each single initiative requires.
The second is the exhausting length of individual change processes that can stretch over many months, or even years. The reasons for the change, once vivid and urgent, become abstract and distant. Champions move on, new people arrive who weren’t part of the original vision, and maintaining momentum becomes harder with each passing quarter.
The demand that team members “adapt to the new reality” addresses neither problem. The flux pushes and pulls them in different directions with no coherence, giving them no stable ground to stand on. Expecting people to “get used to it” amounts to expecting people not to be human.
Leaders who demand adaptation without addressing the underlying human experience are not solving the problem. They are adding to it.
The other Heraclitus
Heraclitus has some real wisdom that can help here, but we need to move past the most common versions of his sayings.
Heraclitus’ most famous aphorism is usually rendered as “You cannot step into the same river twice.” The idea is that when you step into the river, the water flows on and so it is not the same when you take your next step. “Panta rhei.” “Everything flows.”
But there is another version of this saying that comes closer to capturing what Heraclitus actually meant: “We step and do not step into the same river twice.”
The difference is small, but it matters. Yes, the water flows. Yes, the river is never the same from one moment to the next. But the river itself remains. The river has an identity that persists through its constant flow.
There is an important lesson here for organizations seeking to manage change. Recognizing that things flow is important. But we also have to identify and spotlight what it is that persists through that change.
Finding, defining, and celebrating the order that underlies the chaos is essential if we do not want to be swept away. The task is not to eliminate flux—that is neither possible nor desirable—but to identify and preserve the stability that gives change its meaning.
Purpose, identity, strategic clarity: these define the organization and give it its identity. They provide the stable vessel that allows people to float happily along on the flowing water rather than being pulled under by the constant motion.
Providing this stability is the leader’s responsibility. The constants that allow people to navigate change do not maintain themselves. They must be deliberately established, clearly communicated, and actively protected.
What leaders must do
If change fatigue is not a failure of individual resilience but a failure of organizational design, then leaders must take responsibility for building organizations in which change happens more easily. Here are five principles that can help provide stability in a changing world.
Be discerning about what you change. Not every transformation deserves equal energy. The familiar danger of chasing shiny objects—constantly running from one initiative to the next—undermines the efforts that actually matter. Every proposed change should be tested against the organization’s strategic purpose. If it does not clearly advance the core mission, it should not be adding to the cognitive burden on your teams.
Communicate the why, not just the what. Much of change fatigue comes not from the pace of change itself but from the cognitive burden of not understanding how changes connect. When people cannot see how a new process, tool, or structure contributes to an outcome, changes feel arbitrary and exhausting. Often, even C-suite executives are not fully aligned on precisely why things matter. That confusion cascades downward, multiplying fatigue at every level. Leaders must articulate the purpose behind each initiative and show how it fits into a coherent whole.
Build a unified narrative. When organizations pursue multiple change initiatives simultaneously, a unified story smooths the cognitive burden by holding the pieces together. Rather than experiencing six disconnected transformations, people can understand themselves as participating in a single journey with multiple dimensions. The narrative does not eliminate the work, but it reduces the sense of fragmentation.
Create systemic anchors that survive turnover. Long-term change efforts may see key leaders depart before the work is complete. If the change depends entirely on individual champions, it will falter when those individuals leave. There must be a process core—governance structures, documentation, embedded practices—that can survive personnel changes and maintain momentum independent of any single person.
Co-design the change with the humans who must live with it. Change fatigue intensifies when transformations are handed down fully formed, only to collide with realities about which leaders were unaware. Co-design reverses this logic. Frontline staff know the constraints they face; customers know what the change feels like on the receiving end. When the people involved help shape the new way of working that will affect them, compliance turns into ownership, and the change arrives already adapted to the world it must survive in.
Principles in practice
A clear illustration of these principles being put into successful practice comes from Gold Coast Mental Health and Specialist Services in Queensland, Australia, which undertook a sustained transformation to support the adoption of a Zero Suicide approach. The case is instructive both for the ambition of the goal—to permanently shift the culture of a whole health system—and for the care that was taken to make the change sustainable over time.
From the outset, the program was framed as a system-wide approach rather than as “the heroic efforts of individual practitioners.” This distinction matters. When success depends on personal endurance, organizations quietly burn through their people. By treating transformation as a collective endeavor supported by organizational structures rather than individual willpower, the program avoided placing impossible burdens on staff already working in an emotionally demanding field.
The new practices were institutionalized, not merely announced. Training reached more than 500 staff and was then embedded into orientation for new hires and supported by online modules, face-to-face sessions, and custom-produced materials designed with the local culture in mind. The change was designed to outlast the people who initiated it—the kind of systemic anchor that keeps momentum alive even as personnel turn over.
Crucially, the service built feedback loops to prevent drift. Staff received timely data on adherence to the new pathway, followed by supervision and coaching to embed skills. This continuous improvement cycle meant that standards did not have to be constantly re-litigated; the system itself kept reinforcing what good practice looked like.
Co-design was an essential component of the Gold Coast approach. The service’s culture change strategy explicitly integrates suicide attempt and loss survivors in leadership and planning roles, recognizing that effective prevention requires perspectives beyond those of clinicians. The result is that change is shaped by those most exposed to its failure modes.
Gold Coast’s transformation success did not depend on asking already-stretched professionals to simply try harder. Instead, the program leaders ensured that their teams could see the unifying structures that provided stability, meaning, and identity through change.
Conclusion
The 70% failure rate is not a law of nature. It is the predictable result of asking people to navigate constant change without giving them anything constant to hold onto.
Purpose, identity, strategic clarity—these are not luxuries to be addressed once the “real work” of transformation is complete. They are the vessel that keeps people afloat. Without that vessel, you are asking your people to swim through every change. And eventually, swimmers tire.
Build the structures. Communicate the purpose. Shine a clear and steady light on what endures. That is how transformation succeeds—not by demanding more adaptation, but by providing stable foundations on which to build something new.