Curmudgeons and change

How a little respect can shift a whole village

I once had a consulting gig with a 30-person software development group at a State Highway Patrol. We were there to help them modernize their software practices using eXtreme Programming techniques and physical kanban for visualizing work.

I love these kinds of engagements because it feels much more human at that scale. In small groups, the influence of any one person is proportionally larger, and it feels more like a village than a city. The smallest low-tech changes can make a huge difference in how teams work. No digital tools to install, no complicated reporting systems to put into place — all you need is index cards, whiteboards, painter’s tape, and thoughtfully choreographed conversations to create big shifts.

When you’re trying to create change in an organization, some people look like “resistors” or “saboteurs.” The folks trying to “drive” the change either target them as bad guys or try to work around them, because it seems impossible to get them to step in line.

Luckily, I was trained to try something better.

I worked side-by-side with a sweet-tempered technical coach, Adam. Adam was like magic because he was just so damn likable that even the most resistant person hated to let him down. Paired with his significant technical and team-building skills, this humble affability opened hearts and moved teams quickly into trying new practices.

I was there as Adam’s complement. My job was to tune up the system around the teams, by training leaders, stakeholders, and product folks. I was having a fine time running learning experiences, sketching value streams on walls, and explaining techniques that would help them support their development teams, so that they could serve their stakeholders. (In this case, their stakeholders were officers who would attend product sessions wearing guns and radios. This is great fun for a big-city agile coach and a terrific real-world metaphor for the outsized power some stakeholders wield. Anyway, I digress.)

Enter the curmudgeon

About two weeks in, I became aware of Mike. Mike was a 50-something senior developer who knew where all the bodies were buried. He had worked at the highway patrol for DECADES and now “owned” some of the more complicated legacy code. He showed up when he was ready, worked mostly alone, and held court when more junior developers needed to understand his territory.

Mike also was a grump. And he was not even vaguely interested in what Adam and I were selling. He would sit in the back at daily stand-ups and refinement sessions, disengaged, with his arms crossed. If I tried to loop him in with a question, he would give brief, simple answers. He wasn’t mean, but he definitely was waiting for us to go away. It was tense, and you could feel that it affected the team.

People who behave like Mike are a common occurrence when you’re trying to create change in an organization, large or small. To most people, they look like “resistors” or “saboteurs.” The folks trying to “drive” the change either target them as bad guys or try to work around them, because it seems impossible to get them to step in line.

Luckily, I was trained to try something better.

A more skilled approach

When facing people like Mike, it’s important to remember that they know stuff. Real useful stuff. It’s also important to see them as the experienced, seasoned professionals that they are. Anything less is disrespectful, and disrespect breeds all sorts of problems in human dynamics.

The technique I tried was called “honoring the past.” In the context of helping people through change, this means recognizing, respecting, and actually valuing the history, traditions, experiences, and accomplishments that someone(s) have had before the transition. It means listening deeply, appreciating successes and challenges, and working to understand the emotional meaning behind past practices, systems, and relationships.

This approach creates a bridge between the familiar and the new. For many, this can help the transition feel less disruptive and more inclusive. This reduces resistance and helps people feel like they are an important part of the transition.

To accomplish this with Mike, I slowly worked my way into conversations with him. I I asked about his expertise and what he thought I should know about his work. I said things like “Help me understand where you’ve been” and “What am I missing about how things work around here?” I made a point of sitting beside him at his desk and listening with genuine curiosity. If I didn’t understand something he said, I admitted that I didn’t know and asked him to help me catch up.

I told him flat out that I didn’t want to drag him through something he didn’t want to do. I expressed that it was really important to me to keep the world safe for software developers (thanks again,

Kent Beck

). Then I asked him if I could explain some of the deeper thinking behind the XP and kanban practices. He said yes, I did my best, and then I asked his opinion. Then we talked about dogs.

Within a short time, he would smile at me when I entered the team area. When I would ask him to comment on a particular user story card, he would lean in. A little. He never gave up his opinions about what was important — what changed was his willingness to engage and to let another way of working in the door.

The mood on the whole team changed. Slowly, it became more fun. This opened the door for Adam to do pair programming with the team, while working his affable magic. A win all around!

The juice is worth the squeeze!

I can almost hear you saying, “Ugh! That’s a lot of work for one curmudgeon. Why do I have to put in all that effort?!?”

It’s all about reducing friction. If you reduce friction, it’s easier to turn the wheels of the car.

Here’s some food for thought. As you read this, think about how it would feel to be on the receiving end. Think about how much less time you might put into protecting, defending, and criticizing.

Honoring the past:

1. Builds trust and respect

Demonstrating respect for people’s experiences and contributions fosters trust. We signal that change is not a dismissal of their efforts or identity but a step forward that incorporates their value.

2. Addresses emotional resistance

Change often triggers loss or fear of the unknown. Honoring the past helps validate these emotions, reducing resistance by showing empathy and understanding for what people are leaving behind.

3. Creates a sense of continuity

By connecting the past to the future, we reassure people that change is part of a continuum rather than an abrupt break. This helps people see change as an evolution rather than a rejection.

4. Preserves lessons learned

Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water! The past holds valuable lessons, both in terms of successes and failures. Learning from these ensures that the change process builds on a solid foundation of experience.

5. Reinforces identity and culture

Change can feel threatening to a group’s identity. Honoring the past helps people maintain a sense of who they are, even as they adapt to new circumstances.

6. Facilitates buy-in and commitment

People are more likely to embrace change when they feel their contributions and history are respected. It helps them see their role in the change as purposeful and appreciated.

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Part of understanding Messy Humans is making space for others to find their own way forward. We can encourage them by creating safety and respect. Then they will be much more likely to walk down the path we’re building.

Thanks for reading, beloved Messy Humans. Keep honoring your co-workers.