hange is easy to describe on paper.
A new structure.
A new strategy.
A new team.
A new way of working.
But organizations are not pieces of paper.
They are people, relationships, habits, histories, expectations, and sometimes very comfortable ways of doing things.
Over more than three decades of humanitarian work, I have learned that leading change is rarely about announcing a new direction and expecting everyone to follow.
Sometimes an operation needs more structure.
Sometimes it needs less complexity.
Sometimes the structure itself needs to change because the mission has changed.
And sometimes change has to go beyond one organization and reshape how different organizations work together.
But whatever the change, there is another dimension leaders should never forget:
Change has a human impact.
The organizational decision may be necessary, but how we manage its consequences for people is also part of leadership.
One lesson has stayed with me:
Change does not always mean the old way was wrong. Sometimes it simply means the old way has completed its purpose.
Indonesia: Sometimes Change Means Creating Order
One of my earliest lessons in leading change came in Indonesia in 2007.
I initially arrived as a Water and Sanitation Delegate. Alongside supervising a large water-supply project and the construction of a market, I inherited a community-based water and sanitation programme operating across around 30 locations.
The technical intervention itself was relatively simple: small sanitation facilities were being constructed in different communities.
Whether the intervention itself was the right one is another discussion. What concerned me immediately was how the programme was being managed.
Coming from the ICRC, where I had become accustomed to clearly defined systems and responsibilities, I struggled to understand the process I had inherited.
There was no clear Bill of Quantities showing how much material should be required for each unit. There was no reliable cost estimate. Several staff members could purchase construction materials. Different people could hire workers. There was little clarity about how many workers were required, how long construction should take, or who was accountable for controlling materials and costs.
Yet the programme had already been running for a considerable period.
During my first month, a large pile of vouchers arrived on my desk for approval materials, labour and various construction expenses.
I was expected to sign them.
But I couldn’t confidently answer some very basic questions:
How much should one facility cost?
How much material should one facility require?
How many workers should be needed?
How long should construction take?
And who was accountable if those numbers didn’t make sense?
So I made a decision.
We would stop and establish a proper system before continuing.
Simplify Before You Complicate
I visited several construction sites and reviewed what was actually required.
We prepared a simple Bill of Quantities for a standard unit. We established clearer arrangements with masons around the work they were expected to complete and the time required. Procurement responsibility was assigned to one designated person rather than being spread among several staff members. Responsibility for hiring additional labour, when genuinely necessary, was also clearly assigned.
Nothing about the new system was particularly sophisticated.
That was precisely the point.
Everyone needed to know:
Who buys? Who hires? How much material is needed? How much should it cost? How long should the work take? And who is accountable?
Not everyone welcomed the change.
That is understandable. When responsibilities become clearer, so does accountability. Ways of working that had become comfortable were being replaced by a system in which decisions and expenditures could be traced much more easily.
But the objective was not to create more bureaucracy.
It was actually the opposite:
Create enough structure to make the operation simpler, faster and more accountable.
Activities that had been continuing for a long time were completed within the following months.
Indonesia gave me an early lesson about change:
Sometimes an organization does not need another procedure. It simply needs clarity about who is responsible for what.
And another lesson stayed with me:
Accountability does not have to make an organization slower. Done properly, it can make it faster.
Haiti: When Perfection Prevents Progress
In 2010, after completing my mission in Indonesia, I returned home without another immediate assignment.
A few months later, headquarters called.
Would I be interested in going to Haiti as a Water and Sanitation Delegate?
My previous assignment had been as a Programme Coordinator. This position was at a different level.
That didn’t bother me.
There had been a devastating earthquake. There was work to do. So I packed my bags and went to Haiti.
After security briefings, I was sent to Petit-Goâve.
Many families had lost their homes and were living in displacement camps. Water and sanitation conditions needed improvement, and recovery programmes had to move from planning into implementation.
A multidisciplinary team gradually assembled shelter, construction, water and sanitation, community mobilization, logistics, administration, finance and other functions.
We had expertise.
We had resources.
We had humanitarian needs in front of us.
But we struggled to move.
There was a strong desire within programme leadership to develop highly customized and sophisticated solutions before implementation began: specific shelter designs, new systems for managing information, and permanent infrastructure for activities that could perhaps have started with simpler arrangements.
There is nothing wrong with wanting quality.
As an engineer, I believe deeply in professional standards.
But I began asking myself:
At what point does the pursuit of the perfect solution prevent us from delivering a good and appropriate solution?
Families had already spent months in temporary conditions.
They did not need us to lower our standards.
But neither could they wait indefinitely while we perfected every detail.
Months passed, and frustration within the team increased.
Eventually, several colleagues raised serious concerns with the Head of Mission about the direction and pace of the programme.
The existing Programme Manager still had several months remaining in his assignment, so an unusual arrangement emerged.
The Head of Mission asked me to help guide the programme operationally in the background while maintaining the existing management structure.
I had responsibility.
But I did not formally have the authority that normally comes with it.
It became one of the most interesting leadership experiences of my career.
Leading Without the Title
I could not simply walk into the room and announce:
“I am in charge now.”
I wasn’t.
So I had to lead differently.
The first problem I wanted to address wasn’t technical.
It was morale.
After months of frustration, people needed to feel that they could move again.
I encouraged colleagues to use their expertise, make decisions within their responsibilities, simplify where simplification was appropriate, and focus on what affected families actually needed.
Instead of asking:
“How do we design everything perfectly before we begin?”
we increasingly asked:
“What can we safely and responsibly begin now, using accepted standards and practical solutions, and improve as we learn?”
Moving quickly does not mean ignoring standards.
Simplifying does not mean becoming careless.
And making decisions with incomplete information does not mean abandoning accountability.
It means understanding what cannot be compromised and being flexible about everything else.
Gradually, the atmosphere changed.
People began contributing ideas. Meetings became more participatory. Technical colleagues had greater space to exercise professional judgment.
And the programme began moving.
When the formal leadership transition eventually took place, we were already moving forward, and the programme was subsequently completed within a relatively short period.
Haiti taught me something I have remembered ever since:
Change does not always begin when someone gives you authority. Sometimes it begins when people trust you enough to move with you without it.
It also taught me something about perfection:
In humanitarian work, waiting for the perfect solution can sometimes become a decision in itself and not always the right one.
Philippines: When Yesterday’s Structure No Longer Fits Tomorrow’s Mission
Eight years later, I encountered a very different change challenge.
When I began my assignment with the American Red Cross in the Philippines in 2018, the delegation still largely reflected the major response and recovery operation created after Typhoon Haiyan.
A large team remained in Tacloban, while Manila had a much smaller structure.
That setup had made sense during a major recovery operation concentrated in Haiyan-affected areas.
But the context was changing.
The recovery programme was coming to an end.
Our future relationship with the Philippine Red Cross would increasingly involve longer-term programming, disaster risk reduction, National Society development, institutional strengthening, partnership and strategic engagement.
We were moving from one chapter to another.
And I quickly realized something:
The delegation had been built for yesterday’s mission. We now needed to build it for tomorrow’s.
Change Has a Human Cost
On an organizational chart, restructuring can look remarkably simple.
Move this function.
Close that office.
Change this position.
Recruit another profile.
Delete a few boxes.
Create some new ones.
But every box represents a person.
Someone with a career, a family, colleagues, relationships, and often years of service to the organization.
Closing down a large recovery structure therefore wasn’t simply an administrative exercise.
A significant number of positions were affected as the recovery operation wound down.
At the same time, the Manila delegation needed different capabilities for its next phase.
Some existing colleagues could transition into the new structure.
Some positions were no longer required.
Some profiles did not match what the future delegation needed.
And in some areas, performance and accountability issues also had to be addressed.
It would have been easier to postpone some of those decisions.
But postponing change does not make the need for change disappear.
It often makes the eventual change more difficult.
So we moved forward.
Change Also Comes With a Duty of Care
Recognizing the human cost of change is not enough.
Leaders and organizations also have a duty of care toward the people affected by the decisions they make.
Some colleagues who had contributed to the Haiyan recovery for years would not have positions in the future structure.
The organizational decision might have been necessary, but I did not believe our responsibility should simply end when someone’s contract ended.
So I tried to ask another question:
If we cannot keep someone, what can we reasonably do to help them prepare for what comes next?
We provided support and training on CV preparation and job applications.
Where colleagues needed additional skills that could strengthen their future employment prospects, we provided or facilitated training opportunities.
And when I knew that partners or other organizations might need people with their experience, I tried to connect colleagues with those opportunities.
We could not guarantee anyone another job.
But we could help people leave better prepared for their next step.
That experience shaped another principle I carry with me:
Duty of care should not disappear at the edge of an organizational chart.
Funding may end.
Programmes may close.
Offices may close.
Positions may disappear.
These are realities of humanitarian organizations, particularly those dependent on project and emergency funding.
But there is a significant difference between saying:
“Your position no longer exists.”
and saying:
“Your position no longer exists, but let’s see what we can do to help you prepare for what comes next.”
The first manages a contract.
The second manages change with humanity. And I do not believe this responsibility belongs only to HR.
Leaders have a responsibility too.
If we ask people for commitment, flexibility and loyalty during difficult operations, we should also be mindful of them when circumstances change.
Over the years, I have experienced organizational change from both sides sometimes as the person responsible for making difficult decisions, and sometimes as the person affected by decisions made elsewhere.
Experiencing both has strengthened my belief that:
How an organization treats people on their way out says as much about its values as how it welcomes them on their way in.
Change management therefore cannot only be about achieving the future organizational structure.
It must also be about how we treat the people who helped us reach the point from which that change became possible.
Rebuilding Was More Important Than Restructuring
Ending positions was not the objective.
Building the next delegation was.
We recruited people with the capabilities the future programme required. We brought some experience from the previous operation into the new structure. And gradually, we developed a different team and a different way of working.
I wanted people who could think, not simply follow instructions.
People who could challenge ideas respectfully.
People who could make decisions.
People who could work directly with our National Society partners.
People who understood that being trusted also meant being accountable.
My role was not simply to tell them what to do.
It was to establish direction, give them room to grow, and gradually make my involvement in their day-to-day responsibilities less necessary.
Over time, the delegation moved away from a post-Haiyan recovery structure toward a longer-term strategic partnership with the Philippine Red Cross.
The structure changed because the mission had changed.
And that experience reinforced another lesson:
Successful structures can become unsuccessful structures when the environment around them changes.
That does not mean the people who created them were wrong.
It means leaders must recognize when yesterday’s solution has completed its purpose.
When Change Had to Go Beyond One Organization
But the transition after Haiyan was not happening only within our own delegation.
At the height of the response and recovery operation, many Partner National Societies had established substantial operations in the Philippines.
As recovery programmes ended and emergency funding declined, the landscape changed.
Some partners transitioned successfully toward longer-term engagement. For others, maintaining structures designed for a major emergency became increasingly difficult when programmes and resources became smaller.
Over time, considerably fewer partners maintained a significant country presence.
For me, this raised a bigger question.
If resources were becoming more limited, capacities were stretched, and fewer partners remained, did it still make sense for every organization to plan and operate largely on its own?
I increasingly believed we needed another approach.
From Separate Plans to Shared Outcomes
Together with Philippine Red Cross leadership and Movement colleagues, we began exploring an approach centered more clearly around the priorities of the National Society.
The basic idea was simple:
Start with one National Society and its priorities — not with multiple partner plans.
The Philippine Red Cross already had its own strategic direction.
Our challenge was to consider how different partners could organize their contributions around that direction complementing one another rather than unnecessarily duplicating activities or competing for the same limited capacities and opportunities.
This thinking contributed to what we called a Collective Impact approach and to discussions around a One Philippine Red Cross Plan.
It was never intended to replace existing Movement planning mechanisms or the individual mandates, accountability requirements and responsibilities of partners.
It was an operational way of changing the starting question.
Instead of beginning with:
“What does my organization want to implement?”
we could begin with:
“What does the National Society want to achieve, and how can each of us contribute?”
That sounds simple.
Changing established ways of working rarely is.
Change Can Challenge Institutional Habits
There were understandable questions.
Different partners had different donor requirements, financial systems, procedures, capacities and institutional priorities.
Some wondered how much alignment was realistically possible.
Others were concerned about preserving organizational identity and accountability.
And some simply needed to see whether the approach could work in practice.
I did not expect everyone to embrace the idea immediately.
But I believed the direction was worth pursuing.
So we continued discussing it, explaining it, adapting it and, importantly, looking for opportunities to demonstrate it through practical collaboration.
Within our own delegation, we incorporated the approach into our strategic partnership planning.
Progress was gradual.
That itself became another lesson in change management:
Some changes can be made by decision. Cultural and institutional change usually requires persistence.
You explain.
You listen.
You demonstrate.
You adjust.
You find small opportunities to prove that something can work.
And then you build from there.
From an Idea to a Way of Working
Over time, we began seeing practical examples.
Partners increasingly supported common initiatives.
Resources and expertise could be combined.
Joint assessments and activities became more natural.
Fund-generation work brought different partners around shared objectives.
Our work around Greening Disaster Risk Reduction provided another example of partners contributing different capacities and resources toward a common direction.
The important change was not simply producing another plan.
It was changing the thinking behind the plan:
The National Society’s priorities should be at the center, while international partners organize themselves around how best to support them.
For me, this is also an important part of localization.
Localization is not simply withdrawing international capacity and transferring responsibility.
Nor is it maintaining exactly the same international structures while changing the terminology.
It means strengthening local leadership and capacity while international partners are also willing to adapt their own roles, systems and behavior.
In other words:
Localization requires change from international organizations too.
Three Countries, Four Levels of Change
Looking back, these experiences taught me that there is no single formula for leading change.
Indonesia taught me that sometimes you need to change a process.
Responsibilities needed clarity and accountability.
Haiti taught me that sometimes you need to change how a team works.
Complexity needed to give way to practical decisions, confidence and action.
The Philippines taught me that sometimes you need to change an organization.
A structure designed for a major recovery operation needed to evolve for a different future.
And Collective Impact taught me that sometimes change has to go beyond your own organization.
Independent organizations may need to change how they relate to one another and organize themselves around a shared objective.
Process. People. Organization. System.
Each required a different kind of change leadership.
And across all four sits something equally important:
People.
Because change can succeed organizationally while being managed badly humanly.
For me, successful change has to consider both.
Change Is Not About Changing Everything
New leaders sometimes arrive and immediately want to change things simply to demonstrate leadership.
I don’t believe in that.
Change for the sake of change creates disruption without necessarily creating progress.
Before changing something, I try to understand:
Why was it created this way?
What still works?
What no longer works?
What has changed around us?
What do we need for the next stage?
Then comes perhaps the hardest question:
What should we keep?
Because leading change is not only about having the courage to remove what no longer works.
It is also having the wisdom not to destroy what already does.
Resistance Does Not Always Mean People Are Against Change
I have also learned not to assume that everyone who resists change is simply difficult.
People may resist because they do not understand the reason.
Because they fear what they may lose.
Because they have seen previous changes fail.
Because they believe something valuable is being lost.
Because they were never asked what they think.
Or simply because uncertainty is uncomfortable.
And when change affects people’s livelihoods, leaders should not expect communication alone to remove those concerns.
Duty of care means considering what practical support can accompany the transition not simply explaining why the decision was necessary.
A leader therefore needs to listen.
Explain the direction.
Be transparent about what can and cannot change.
Give people opportunities to contribute.
And, where possible, bring them into the process.
But leadership also requires recognizing that consultation does not mean every decision will satisfy everyone.
There are moments when, after listening and considering the consequences, a leader still has to decide.
Empathy and decisiveness are not opposites.
You can understand why a decision is painful and still believe it is necessary.
Eventually, many leaders experience both sides of change: making difficult decisions and having difficult decisions made about them.
Experiencing both should make us better leaders not necessarily more reluctant to make difficult decisions, but more thoughtful about how we make them.
Knowing When to Move
If I connect Indonesia, Haiti and the Philippines today, I see very different situations but one common leadership responsibility.
First, understand the real problem.
Not the most visible problem.
Not necessarily the problem people first describe.
The underlying problem.
Then decide what actually needs to change.
Sometimes people need more structure.
Sometimes they need more freedom.
Sometimes the programme needs to move.
Sometimes the organization needs to move in a different direction.
Sometimes several organizations need to change how they work together.
And sometimes the best leadership decision is to change nothing at all because what already exists is working.
Change therefore requires more than courage.
It requires judgment.
Knowing what to keep.
Knowing what to let go.
Knowing when good enough is enough to begin.
Knowing when something that once worked has completed its purpose.
Knowing when you can make the change yourself and when you need to bring others with you.
And remembering that the people affected by change are not simply resources to be moved from one organizational chart to another.
Because ultimately, leadership is not about preserving the organization we inherited.
It is about preparing it and the people and partnerships around it for what comes next.
Lessons from the Field
This article is part of my ongoing Lessons from the Field series, where I share reflections, leadership lessons and practical insights from more than 34 years of humanitarian work across different countries, cultures, conflicts and disasters.
These reflections are my own, shaped by experience and offered in the hope that they contribute to learning, dialogue and better humanitarian leadership.
Because experience has its greatest value when it is shared.