The Triangulation of Care, System, and Purpose

There is a particular kind of pain I have seen repeat itself throughout my career.

It appears most clearly in people who care deeply about their work, about the impact they are trying to make, and about the communities their organisations exist to serve. It emerges not from apathy or disengagement, but from commitment. From proximity. From staying.

What creates the pain is not a single failure, but a triangulation.

On one point of the triangle is the individual, carrying care, skill, and a sense of responsibility for outcomes that matter. On another is the system, with its structures, processes, incentives, and limits, unable or unwilling to shift in ways that would allow that care to translate into meaningful change. On the third is purpose, the people and communities the work is meant to serve, which makes leaving, detaching, or disengaging feel like its own kind of betrayal.

Inside this triangle, something begins to hurt.

This is not about being obsessed with fixing systems for their own sake. It’s about what happens when you are close enough to see what is possible, close enough to see what is failing, and still unable to move the conditions that would allow the work to be done well. You are asked to keep caring, to keep delivering, to keep holding responsibility, while the system remains largely the same.

Over time, organisations often respond by oscillating. Small interventions. Temporary fixes. Periods of discomfort where everyone knows things are not working, followed by a return to the familiar. There is a reluctance to sit fully with uncomfortable truths, to tolerate the instability that real change would require, or to disrupt arrangements that technically still function.

In that space, the system continues. And the person adapts.

What I see most often is not immediate exit, but internalisation. People begin to carry the system’s immobility as a personal failing. If they were clearer, more persuasive, more resilient, more strategic, perhaps things would be different. The longer this goes on, the more the pain moves inward. Health is affected. Confidence erodes. Identity becomes entangled with frustration and self-doubt.

This creates a persistent misalignment between workforce, system, and purpose. A kind of suspended state where nothing quite resolves. Hope remains, but it is never fully met. Resistance exists, but it is never fully named. The system continues, and the pain settles deeper.

From the outside, this is often described in neutral language. Turnover. Capability gaps. Change fatigue. Loss of talent. What is less visible is the quiet departure of people who once carried a great deal of tacit knowledge, care, and future possibility. Not just what they knew, but what they were holding on behalf of the organisation.

What sits underneath all of this is a human contradiction that organisations rarely acknowledge. We are uncomfortable with change, and we are uncomfortable with the status quo. People inside systems are hopeful that things can be different, and shaped by the memory of not being heard. They want to contribute, and they are tired of trying.

When these tensions are left unresolved, care becomes a liability. Commitment becomes a site of injury. The system remains intact, but the cost is paid elsewhere.

I keep returning to this question: what responsibility do systems have for the pain they create through prolonged misalignment? And what happens when people are asked to keep carrying what the system cannot change?

This is not just an organisational problem.

It’s a human one.

If this reflects the kind of tension you’re holding in your work or leadership, I work through executive coaching and advisory to help move beyond these patterns. Reach out via info@dialecticalconsulting.com.au or contact me via LinkedIn.

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Resilience Isn’t the Problem. Forgetting Is.

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Hear No AI, See No AI, Speak No AI: Silence Isn’t a Strategy