The Organisation That Wanted Adaptive People

Some time ago I talked to a client about what an adaptivity journey might involve and during that discussion a concern arose. They did not doubt the importance of adaptivity; on the contrary. Everyone agreed that the ability to learn, anticipate and innovate had become essential. The concern was something else:

"We have already built many things that work well for our people. We need to be clear about what good behaviour means in our context."

I understood the concern. Every organisation contains years of accumulated experience. Certain structures, habits and agreements did not emerge by accident. They were often created because they solved a problem, enabled growth or protected something valuable.

Yet organisations also find themselves in a world where standing still is no longer a realistic option. New technologies emerge, customer expectations evolve, markets shift and jobs change. The future increasingly refuses to follow the plans we make for it. This creates a tension I encounter regularly in conversations about adaptivity.

We want people to think differently, but not too differently. We want initiative, but within clear boundaries. We want experimentation, but preferably without mistakes. Adaptivity is often misunderstood as unrestricted freedom. In practice, the opposite is true. Adaptivity is purposeful. It is the ability to adjust, learn and respond in service of a shared mission.

The challenge is the ability to keep moving when the exact path forward remains unclear. We want change, but without losing what we have built and what has served us well until now. Perhaps this is why discussions about flexibility, proactivity or adaptability often feel uncomfortable, because both sides are trying to protect something valuable: one side protects stability and continuity on the one hand, the other protects renewal and innovation on the other.

The question is not which side should win, but how both can strengthen each other. This requires synergetic thinking: bringing apparent opposites into a relationship in which each makes the other stronger.

Growing Beyond the Pot

When organisations invest in wellbeing or learning and development, the intention is usually positive. We want people to grow, become more resilient, more capable, more autonomous and, implicitly, more adaptive.

But genuine growth has an interesting characteristic. It changes the person who is growing. Someone who learns to think critically may start asking different questions. Someone who develops new capabilities may see new possibilities. Someone who becomes more comfortable with uncertainty may challenge assumptions that others still take for granted.

At that point, a subtle paradox appears. Many organisations say they want adaptive people. Far fewer have reflected on what happens when those people outgrow existing structures and ways of working.

Consider a young tree. It can live comfortably in a small pot. As it grows, the same pot starts restricting its roots. The problem is not the pot. For a time, it provided exactly what the tree needed. The question becomes whether the tree is given a larger pot.

Perhaps the ultimate test of adaptivity is not whether people are willing to change. Perhaps it is whether organisations are willing to co-evolve when their people grow. Co-evolution does not mean abandoning everything that has been built. Many existing structures provide exactly the stability people need to learn, experiment and perform.

The challenge is whether the system still serves the adaptive behaviour it asks from people. When we ask people to grow, we may eventually discover that some of our own assumptions, practices or structures need to evolve as well. Not because they were wrong, but because they were designed for a different moment in time. What once enabled growth can gradually become what constrains it.

We saw this dynamic in practice while supporting an organisation that wanted to strengthen a mindset of continuous improvement. Conversations with employees revealed that willingness alone was not enough. People lacked clarity about what continuous improvement meant in their own roles, while immediate client and project priorities understandably came first. Rather than placing the responsibility solely on employees, we worked with the leadership team to examine what they could change in the surrounding context: clearer direction and expectations, more explicit roles, and dedicated time and space for improvement within existing processes and routines.

The Tension Between Safety and Growth

In his memorable speech at the Paulskirche in Frankfurt on 25 June 1963, at the height of the Cold War, John F. Kennedy reminded his audience:

"Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future."

More than sixty years later, the statement feels no less relevant. Yet, human beings rarely experience change as a law of nature; we experience it as uncertainty. As uncertainty increases, we tend to hold on to familiar routines and to protect what we know.

There is nothing irrational about that. Without sufficient stability, constant change creates exhaustion and confusion rather than a greater capacity to navigate uncertainty. Our fieldwork repeatedly pointed to the same paradox: when people are expected to make sense of change without time to absorb it, the demand for continuous adaptation can gradually undermine the very capacity it seeks to strengthen.

The more I reflect on adaptivity, the less I see safety and growth as opposites. Psychological safety is a prerequisite for learning and growth. People are more willing to experiment, ask questions, challenge assumptions and admit they do not have all the answers when mistakes can be examined without immediately leading to blame.

But the relationship works both ways. Growth also contributes to safety. The world does not become less uncertain because we stop learning. If anything, the opposite happens. The capabilities that helped us yesterday can gradually become the source of tomorrow's vulnerability.

Safety matters. Yet adaptivity requires more than protection alone. Left entirely to ourselves, most of us occasionally retreat to what feels familiar, especially when uncertainty grows. Human beings do not only need support; we also need challenge. Not pressure for the sake of pressure, but expectations, stretch and encouragement that keep us moving beyond what we already know.

Safety without growth becomes stagnation.

Growth without safety becomes instability.

Sustainable adaptivity emerges when both strengthen one another.

A Shared Responsibility

One observation kept returning throughout our research and fieldwork into workplace adaptivity. Organisations often approach adaptivity as an individual capability: they want employees to be more flexible, proactive and resilient. Yet many of the factors that shape adaptive behaviour are systemic, including leadership, psychological safety, autonomy, learning opportunities and social support.

Adaptivity may manifest itself in people, but it is fundamentally relational. Neither the individual nor the system can carry adaptivity alone. It is reasonable for employers to expect people to keep learning and developing so that the organisation does not fall behind. Employees, in turn, may expect the clarity and support that make this possible. Not every change needs to happen immediately, not everyone develops at the same pace and not everyone should become the same future self.

Adaptivity asks something from both sides. Because organisations shape much of the context in which people are expected to adapt, they have a particular responsibility: to create the conditions for growth and to accept that genuine growth may challenge existing structures.

Individuals, in turn, have a responsibility to continue learning, even when certainty feels more comfortable. Adaptivity is not a one-sided obligation. It is a mutual commitment.

Perhaps that is the true test of adaptivity: whether people remain willing to learn, and organisations remain willing to evolve with them.