The System Includes You

Before asking what's wrong, consider what changed when you arrived.

In my last post, I wrote about a moment in a café that didn’t feel quite right. Everything looked fine, but something was off in a way I couldn’t yet explain.

There’s a part of that moment I didn’t understand at the time. Not just what I was seeing, but what I was part of.

When something feels off, the instinct is often to fix it. Even if you can’t fully explain it yet. Especially then.

That’s where things go wrong. Not in missing the signal, but in acting on it before you understand what’s actually happening.

What I thought I was seeing

At the time, I thought I was observing a team that wasn’t fully aligned. Communication felt thin. Energy felt slightly constrained. Something wasn’t moving the way it should.

Nothing obvious. But enough to make me want to step in.

If I had acted on that, I would’ve tried to correct what I thought was off. Push for more communication. Address what felt like hesitation. Tighten standards.

It would have looked like a reasonable response. It also would have been wrong.

Because what I didn’t understand yet was simple:

The system included me. What I was seeing wasn’t separate from me. It was, in part, a response to my presence.

The shift I wasn’t accounting for

The energy shifted when I walked in. Not dramatically. Just enough.

Conversations tightened. Movements became more deliberate. People checked themselves in ways they hadn’t a moment before.

At the time, I read that as something missing. In reality, I was part of what was changing.

That’s easy to miss, because it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like you’re a bystander, or silent observer of an unfolding environment, from the outside.

But you’re not on the outside. You never really are.

The moment you enter a room, you change it. People adjust. They pay attention to different things. They hold themselves differently. They respond to what they think you’re looking for, even if you haven’t said a word.

So what you’re seeing isn’t neutral. It’s shaped by your presence, even with minimal interaction. And if you don’t account for that, you misread what’s actually happening.

What the signal actually points to

A team that feels tense might not be tense in your absence. A conversation that feels guarded might not usually be that way. What feels like a system problem might be a moment.

That doesn’t make the signal less real. But it does change what it points to.

If I had moved too quickly, I would have solved for the surface, and made the underlying dynamic worse.

This is the part that’s easy to skip. Because waiting doesn’t feel like progress. And accounting for yourself is harder than diagnosing others.

But until you understand what you’re part of, you’re not in a position to change anything.

The question that actually matters

This isn’t just true in a café. It shows up in conversations. In meetings. In relationships. Even in small, everyday interactions.

So the question shifts.

Not: What’s wrong here?

But: What am I changing just by being here?

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If any of this resonates with you, I’m glad you’re here.

– Maxwell