Most companies want to believe they’re a pack of lions. Fierce, smart and top of the food chain. In reality, most modern work looks a lot more like an ant colony after someone kicked the anthill. Every morning, everyone runs in circles carrying tiny pieces of a problem, bumping into each other, changing direction whenever a manager leaves a new breadcrumb trail. There’s no meeting without at least three ants talking over each other, convinced their crumb is the biggest priority. Occasionally, a scout ant discovers an actual shortcut (a new tool, a hack, a customer insight). But instead of letting the colony learn and adapt, leadership usually builds another tunnel. One that loops back to where everyone started. The queen (read: CEO) is protected in a chamber of status meetings. Workers try not to question why they’re moving crumbs from one side of the hill to the other, as long as the tunnel stays busy. From the outside, it looks like perfect coordination. Inside, it’s organized chaos held together by relentless motion. The irony: true progress happens when one ant ignores the tunnels, finds a better path, and the rest finally follow. Not because someone told them to, but because the shortest route actually works. Most teams confuse motion for momentum. The best work isn’t about being the busiest ant in the colony. It’s about knowing when to break from the line, test a new path, and prove it works so clearly the rest can’t ignore you.