THE ARC: How to Know When to Shift

Why sensing the turn is the difference between thriving and survival. Best suited for: decision-makers, listeners, pattern-readers, and anyone learning to sense what’s next.

The BACKBONE series offers a raw, honest take on leading with authenticity and purpose in today’s complex world, fueled by insights and timeless wisdom from the greatest minds.

Do you remember when Christine fell into a pond in Hyde Park chasing a duck? When you held my hand in Jemaa el-Fnaa? When we rigged the pressure relief valve with a rubber band at 3:00 am, water up to our knees?

We live through countless chapters, each marked by its own weight and lightness. The smile that appears when we open up a memory from our archives, and the yearning for a precious moment in time.

Every experience and relationship in our personal and professional lives moves throughout an arc that begins with a promise, builds gradually toward a crest, and eventually tapers off. Sometimes, it transforms into a new chapter, a sequel.

Some arcs stretch across decades while others burn quickly, dazzle for a moment. The shape of the arc nonetheless always remains the same, no matter how long it lasts or how subtle its changes might seem. Fortunately, or unfortunately, nothing lasts forever, and that’s the price to live to the fullest.

How do you know where you are in the arc, once the walk down from its apex has already begun? How do you know when it’s time to shift?

Leading in such a world means being able to recognize where you are within the arc and what the moment requires of you, even when the writing on the wall has turned into a billboard, or worse, when the T-Rex is already breathing down your neck and you still have no clue what to do.

In organizations, that’s usually when leadership teams talk obsessively about “being strategic,” which hints at the cluelessness of what to do next. There’s nothing wrong with not knowing, but how we stay inside that uncertainty makes all the difference. The process of transformation is hardly comfortable, but it can be deeply fruitful.

Strategic thinking is a matter of orientation, a way of recognizing when momentum has peaked and having the clarity to respond before the descent becomes visible.

Often, organizations mistake continuity for relevance and keep investing in a product line past its peak, or persist in pushing a service no longer aligned with the pulse of their clients. They cling to a way of working that once brought efficiency but now breeds inertia based on the assumption that what worked yesterday can still deliver tomorrow.

We all fall into that trap at some point, continuing with the workout routine that no longer matches the hours and sweat we pour into it; holding on to the long-time friendship where reciprocity has quietly faded; staying in the romantic bond that creates more frustration than joy, because letting go often feels harder than pressing on. As Keane sings, “But everybody’s changing, and I don’t feel the same.”

Knowing where you stand in the arc comes from intuition, the logic of spreadsheets, and a willingness to observe, listen, and absorb the moods of a system before they harden into trends. These are not loud signals but “whispers” long before the arc begins to shout.

In practical terms, it means being present to hear the client’s struggle between the lines, or paying attention to how your team is showing up, the quiet loss of energy, the subtle resistance to change, the absence of curiosity that used to be there. It also means paying attention to how you feel—yes, how you feel—because feelings reveal truths long before the mind can concoct a logical explanation.

In my experience, companies lose their strategic edge not by failing to pay consultants enough for “intelligence,” but by losing the space to perceive what is already here.

As organizations grow and become more complex to manage, people operate more reactively than proactively. They begin to focus on whether each part is functioning as it should, rather than where the whole thing is headed. As keeping everything moving requires more and more energy, less space remains to pause, reflect, and notice whether the direction still makes sense.

Eventually, even the most adaptive systems become blind to their journey on the arc, and once you stop reading the arc, you make decisions out of context, innovating too early or too late, holding on too long or letting go too fast.

You can only move wisely if you know where you are. Personal agency and leadership become less about steering the ship toward fixed goals and more about recognizing the tide and adjusting your sails with humility, acknowledging you're in a system that is evolving with or without your consent.

Reading the arc is a discipline of attention because nothing sustains itself indefinitely, not your momentum, not your market fit, not your energy. If the only strategy is to keep going harder, you will burn out or fade out. But if you can see the arc and meet it with clarity, you can decide how to close one chapter and begin the next.

PAUSE. LEARN. MOVE ON.

In a world full of noise, the rarest skill might be the ability to know where you are in the journey. Strategic leaders are not heroes with answers, but learners who read the system’s feedback, those who can feel when the current has shifted before it’s obvious.

In The End of Competitive Advantage, Columbia professor Rita Gunther McGrath dismantles the long-held belief that success comes from building something durable and protecting it at all costs. Companies must create systems for transient advantage: spotting short-term opportunities, exploiting them quickly, then moving on without clinging to the past.

The old model of leadership, anchored in control, predictability, and perfection, breaks under this kind of pressure. In its place, McGrath calls for leaders who welcome surprise, stay curious, and build cultures where experimentation is the norm and people are treated not as fixed assets, but as evolving ones.

Strategy, in this light, is a rhythm. Advantage becomes a cycle, and timing is the edge. Those who sense the timing know when the arc is turning and have the presence to meet it without resistance.

The arc doesn’t wait for certainty but calls for our attention. If this piece resonated with you, subscribe to Breakfast with Stephen or spend time with ALYGN, where we practice the art of timing, presence, and quiet strategic discernment.

You can reach Stephen at stephen@alygn.company