What horse trainers can teach us about managing ourselves through change
My first re-org in Big Tech was scary AF! This horse training method might have helped me then and has helped me since.
Change is happening in the tech industry. Companies announce layoffs every week. Venture capital is drying up. For those of us currently or soon to be looking for work, the competition is daunting in this buyers’ market. (What a great time to be hiring, though!) Hiring freezes, layoffs, re-orgs have hit without warning, stunning reports as often as their managers. These changes lead to fear, uncertainty, and doubt, especially for those who haven’t experienced them before.
I wrote this for individual contributors without management responsibilities experiencing large organizational change for the first time. But managers and organizational leaders may also find this helpful for understanding, empathizing with, and comforting their reports.
My first re-org
The first time I experienced a “re-org,” I was terrified. My director was going to report to a new VP. Teams divided, shuffled, and reassembled like a draft deck. Leadership said nothing, perhaps for legal reasons or out of ignorance. It turned out that at that company, re-orgs happened every other year. It was that company’s way of doing business!
But for me, it was the end of the world. I had barely begun to understand my team’s goals and makeup, and then THIS? I had heard rumors that re-orgs could mean layoffs. I was the newest hire! Was it going to be Last in, First out for me? Soon, the re-org was added to my anxiety matinee that played in my head whenever I woke up at night, right before the “they’re going to realize you don’t belong here” highlight reel of impostor syndrome.
Re-orgs, new leadership, changing org goals, budget cuts, and the like are scary because they are change. When done poorly, they can change your life for the worst. (Think of when foreign powers “re-org” a region into new countries.) And unfortunately, people running the show are rarely experts at change management because systems reward “good enough” performance as well as they reward “ideal” performance.
Your frenemy, your amygdala
The only thing you have direct control over is your behavior. At least, for 20% of the time. The other 80% of the time, you’re either on autopilot or your amygdala has taken control. Your amygdala is an older part of your brain responsible for emotions that has sudo privileges to your speech and actions. When your hippocampus determines a situation is unsafe, boom, your amygdala overrides all your calm, collected, rational behavior and coping mechanisms that you’ve spent years acquiring through therapy and self-help books. That newer part of your brain, the part responsible for test driven development and painstakingly using correct heading tags—it gets shut right down.
This means that most of the time we are reacting to change rather than rationalizing through it. Instead of calmly telling your boss you’ll need to think about a new plan to deliver without the resources you’d budgeted, you accuse her of undermining your initiative Because Reasons. Instead of delivering on your responsibilities according to plan, you start doom-scrolling through Blind while in the bathroom, looking for confirmation that your org is next. Instead of being the bigger person, you start acting like a little dog (more on Big Dog/Little Dog thinking in a future post): reacting, defending, and shutting down instead of opening up. All teeth, all fear, determining whether to fight, flight, or freeze in the face of what must be the end of the world.
Telling yourself “don’t panic” isn’t going to help. No matter how often I told myself to calm down and tried think objectively, it didn’t change those fear-based reactions.
The work you need to do happens long before your Fear, Uncertainty, and Doubt come by for tea with your Amygdala.
The steam engine and the workhorse
Black Beauty was originally a book about animal welfare that somehow became a children’s classic. The story follows the eponymous Black Beauty from his birth as a colt to a working horse pulling taxis on the streets of London. At one point during his training, his trainer leaves him in a pasture with some cows. The grass is sweet; the field is peaceful. Things seem ok.
Until a massive train plows through the landscape.
Black Beauty, having never heard such a racket or seen the moving calamity that is a steam engine before, rightfully freaks right the flip out. He runs and runs to the other end of the pasture. He can’t eat. He’s terrified.
This scene plays out over and over again, and little by little, Black Beauty realizes that the cows don’t look up from grazing and that the train never actually comes into the pasture. The train is full of sound and fury but ultimately poses no existential threat to him. One day, he no longer bothers to look up from grazing when the train passes. And this is how his trainers know he is ready for the hustle and bustle of the big city.
The anxiety I faced from my first re-org didn’t help me want to stay at that job. The stress of shifting goals, impending layoffs, and a new leadership chain were like that train, careening through the pasture of my work life. I didn't understand how the people who’d been at the company forever could be so calm about this upheaval!
But while the leadership and goals changed, the people around me kept their projects going, making minor adjustments. Very few had to pivot. The leaders and words changed, but the work did not. At least not at first.
Now I’ve been through several re-orgs, and much like Black Beauty, I barely look up to notice. Leaders come, leaders go. An individual contributor leaving a crucial project can have more profound repercussions on your project than a VP declaring new pillars to align with next year.
How to desensitize yourself to organizational change
If you’re new to the ups and downs of Big Tech, these experiences can be alarming. It’s hard to reorient and remain calm when the world is topsy turvy, when you don’t know if your boss, your collaborator, your mentor will still be there next week. Your brain will want to go into overdrive, forming plans A, B, and C—a whole set of Schlieffen plans!
Your mind can end up like Black Beauty, running and running, trying to make you feel better by creating "certainty"—even if that certainty is the conviction that you are doomed.
You might even feel like you need to run away immediately. But that’s the last thing you should do.
If Black Beauty had jumped the fence the first time the train passed, he would never have learned how safe he had been all along, that the train could never physically harm him. He would have run away to forever panic at loud noises, unable to navigate potentially dangerous situations safely.
The only way to desensitize yourself to change is to experience it, to follow it through to its conclusion. When you see change coming, lean into it. Get it over with. Then you can get back to the green grass—or jump the fence to greener pastures. See what happens after the dust settles. Is it as terrible as you thought? Is it unsurvivable?
You’re still there.
Like Black Beauty, you’ll need something to keep you from running away, like a fence. I recommend the “post and rope” model trainers use to calm wild horses wary of humans. A trainer will hold the horse’s lead, letting the horse run in circles around them. The horse feels safe running in circles but can’t run away from the person on the other end. As the horse calms down, the trainer shortens the lead, drawing the horse closer and closer. This way, the horse can engage in their self-soothing behavior while the trainer demonstrates their trustworthiness by causing the horse no harm.
You’ll need a post (your paycheck, health insurance, family benefits) and a rope that binds you to that post (your resolution, willpower, willingness to see what happens next). It doesn’t matter how big the post is. You’ll break your rope and run away if you’re scared enough. And some things are worth more than money, like sanity. Or sleep.
You need a strong rope to tie you to your post.
You can strengthen your rope by adopting a “wait and see” plan. I use this to endure social events I would otherwise bolt from. Often, if I stick it out, I have a great time. So I set my watch to 30 minutes, and when the alarm goes off, if I’m not having a good time, I set it for another 30. If it goes off again, and I am still not having a good time, I permit myself to exit the arrangement gracefully. (A bag of Doritos takes me about a half hour to demolish, so often I'll bring one along to parties. Now you know why I am holding that bag of Doritos in all those photos!)
You can do this at work, too. What’s the minimum amount of time you are willing to endure uncertainty? How many paychecks do you need to pay to pack up and move out? Is another change on the horizon—a budget approval or a new hire onboarding? Can you commit to reassessing then? Promise yourself that you’ll return to this when you have more information. Lots of things can change in the interim.
This very act of timeboxing can help clear out your anxiety so you can reason again. Then you can have some serious talks with yourself.
Self talk for dire straits
A new team, a role we didn’t ask for, a manager we don’t like. For most of us, organization change isn’t the end of the world. Even getting laid off isn’t going to annihilate our existence. We will go on to other projects, other jobs. We will make new friends, new plans.
But change that threatens your well-being is serious. These are the conversations you can have with yourself while things shake out to keep your panicking inner Black Beauty calm through the night.
If you’re worried you’ll get laid off, accept that there’s nothing you can do to prevent it.
When a company is reorganizing or laying people off, it usually comes as a mandate from on high. Your manager already has an idea of who stays and who goes. And no amount of worry or work will impact that decision that has been many months in the making. Heck, you might start applying for new jobs! Updating your resume, drafting a social media post announcing your availability, these actions can help bring a feeling of control and hope to counteract the feeling of instability. Tell yourself, "There’s no amount of worry or work I can do that will change my future. I can only do the best I can while adapting."
If you’re worried about how you will support yourself, organize your resources.
Revisiting your budget, cutting spending, ensuring you have enough liquid cash to cover expenses for X months of job searching—even if these measures prove unnecessary, organizing your finances can be greatly reassuring in the face of uncertainty. You’re exerting control over yourself! Aim to bring more flexibility to your resources—go month to month, pay down debts, investigate alternative methods to get needs met. And remember, every month you’re working is extra runway to look after what matters to you. Tell yourself, "Regardless of what happens tomorrow, I’ll take what I can get today to secure my future."
If you’re worried that the new order will be worse than the old one, consider that it might be better.
Change is beneficial as often as not. You might land in a better position. The new VP might get rid of your incompetent boss before they get rid of you. You don’t know, so chill and find out. You might kick yourself after jumping to a new company when you look back and see the situation got better a few months later (true story). Tell yourself, "I might like the new situation better than the previous one. Let me gather more information before deciding whether it’s bad or good for me."
If you’re worried you’ll lose some of your favorite colleagues, remember that it’s a small world.
You will hopefully work with them again somewhere else, somewhere even better. And remember, you can help them land on their feet by offering to help them practice interviewing, recommending them for roles, and even sending them the odd casserole. Things get tough, and people move on to new positions, but they are never entirely gone from our lives or careers. Set up ways to maintain that connection, support each other, and keep in communication throughout the changes. Tell yourself, "I may be worried about what happens to other people, but I can only control my actions. I commit to doing whatever I can to help the people I care about."
If you’re worried about all the things you have to lose, "count your blessings."
We often place more value on something that might be taken away from us than what we already have. Think about the things you have outside this job: your skills, abilities, experiences, family, friends, hobbies, hot water, memories, experiences, and that bag of Doritos you put on the back shelf for social emergencies. Say to yourself, "Yes, I might lose some things, but I still have many good things in my life."
The waterfall
Years ago, I was on a hiking trip in "the Gorge" outside Portland, Oregon. The guide took us all to a beautiful waterfall. The gorge was narrow, the water was deep, and I had a swimsuit under my hiking gear. I decided what the heck, when am I going to swim up to a waterfall again?
Five minutes later, how I regretted those words!
The water roared in my ear like an angry, wounded animal. The bubbles obscured my vision of what was underwater—body or obstacle (or shark!). The cold of the water sank into my limbs. My heart was racing, and my amygdala screamed at me to get out, get out, get out!
But I stayed there, bobbing in front of that white column. I reached out and touched its spray.
Sound and fury. Signifying nothing.
I concluded that the waterfall couldn’t hurt me.
That is what these changes are. You’re the active agent. You decide when to swim back to shore.
You go on.
Tips for weathering organizational uncertainty
Don’t run: Desensitize yourself to change by seeing what happens on the other side, if you can.
Steel your resolve: Timebox how long you're willing to face down the waterfall.
Talk yourself down: When you are calm enough, reason with yourself.
Do this over and over, and soon you’ll be like those veteran engineers and program managers, shrugging off new org charts and immediately setting to work, making new allies, and adjusting plans.
Change is hard. But you and many others will survive and thrive on the other side. I promise.
Thanks to Theo Browne, Di Dang, BekahHW, and Ahmad Awais for their feedback and suggestions to make this piece more helpful and stronger. This is an experiment in writing a book in public. We’ll see how it goes.