How (Well-Intended) Collaboration Becomes An Endless Rehearsal Your CFO just scheduled another "alignment call" before Tuesday's cabinet meeting. Your Chief Academic Officer wants to "preview concerns" over coffee. Your VP of Enrollment has "quick questions" that definitely aren't quick. This isn't collaboration. This is diplomatic relations between separate nations who happen to share a building. Here's what's killing American education—and it's not enrollment cliffs, funding cuts, or your board's 90-minute AI debate (it's both a threat AND opportunity, you're welcome, moving on). It's this: THE MEETING TAX CALCULATOR 4.7 hours per week in pre-meetings × 8 cabinet members × 42 working weeks × $140K average salary = $1,127,520 per year That's not a line item in your budget. That's a yacht. A medium-sized yacht you're sinking annually into talking ABOUT talking. And here's the devastating part: After all those meetings? You still don't have alignment. You have consensus cosplay. Everyone nodding while mentally drafting the email they'll send AFTER this meeting, explaining why this meeting's decisions won't work for their division/building/department/reality. Your turn: Calculate your Meeting Tax below. Weekly pre-meeting hours × team size × 42 weeks × average salary = ? Drop your number in the comments. Let's see who's got the most expensive collaboration theater. (Spoiler: 67% of educational leadership teams spend more time preparing FOR decisions than making them. That's not collaboration. That's endless preparation with no execution. And while you're stuck in meeting purgatory, enrollment is shifting, your board is asking questions you answered three meetings ago, and your teachers are wondering if leadership actually... leads.) THE DIAGNOSIS: Why Smart Teams Build Stupid Processes Let's talk about this like adults who've survived multiple strategic planning cycles, at least one superintendent/chancellor search that somehow took longer than an actual presidential election, and that January board meeting where someone definitely said something that made everyone else wonder if they'd accidentally joined a different organization. Here's what your last two weeks actually looked like: Monday, 6:30 AM: Cabinet member A messages you about "aligning before Tuesday's meeting." Translation: Lobbying for their position before anyone else can. You spend 45 minutes on a call that could have been handled in the actual meeting if your team trusted each other enough to think out loud together. If you're K-12, this happened before school started, which means you arrived at 6:30 AM for a 7 AM "quick chat" that made you late to bus duty. If you're higher ed, this happened over coffee that got cold while you listened to why the enrollment strategy conflicts with academic affairs priorities for the ninth time this semester. Tuesday Morning: Three separate people Slack you "quick questions" before the 10 AM cabinet meeting. None of these questions are quick. All of them are positioning. Your CFO wants to "preview budget concerns." Your chief academic officer wants to "discuss the implications." Your principal/dean wants to "clarify expectations." You're now late to your own meeting because you've essentially held three mini-meetings in your office doorway while your actual calendar said you had 30 minutes to prep. Tuesday 10 AM: The actual cabinet meeting. Where everyone performs the kabuki theater of collaborative decision-making while carefully avoiding any actual disagreement because—and here's the kicker—you haven't built the emotional infrastructure for productive conflict. So instead of 90 minutes of real thinking, you get 2.5 hours of strategic ambiguity that technically sounds like agreement but practically means nothing. Decisions get made with enough wiggle room that everyone can interpret them differently later. Tuesday Afternoon Through Thursday: The post-meeting meetings. Your CFO "wants to clarify something." Your Provost/Chief Academic Officer "has concerns they didn't want to raise in front of everyone." Your VP of Enrollment/Director of Student Services "interprets the decision differently" than your VP of Student Affairs/Principal. In K-12, you're now translating cabinet decisions to building leaders who weren't in the meeting but will definitely have opinions about implementation. In higher ed, you're explaining to deans why what seemed clear in cabinet somehow needs three follow-up conversations before it reaches department chairs. Friday: You're exhausted. They're exhausted. Nothing is actually decided. But everyone's calendar is full, so at least it LOOKS like leadership is happening. And somewhere, a teacher is wondering why the new initiative lacks clarity, a faculty member is asking when leadership will actually lead, and a parent/student is experiencing the downstream consequences of decisions that took four meetings to not-quite-make. I know the loneliness of being the only person who sees this pattern. Of feeling like you're herding cats, except the cats all have advanced degrees, strong opinions about governance structures, and believe their version of reality is the correct one (because in their building/division/department, it actually is). Of wondering if you're the problem because surely—SURELY—leadership teams at other districts/institutions don't operate like a group project where everyone's doing their part but nobody's read anyone else's sections. But everyone's calendar is full, so at least it LOOKS like leadership is happening. You're not crazy. Your team isn't incompetent. You've just been optimizing the wrong variable while the world outside your conference room keeps moving. Comment "FRIDAY" if this was literally your week. Here's What's Really Happening Your team has high individual intelligence but catastrophically low collective intelligence. They're brilliant people who've never learned to think together under pressure. So they compensate with preparation. Lots and lots of preparation. Pre-meetings to feel safe. Post-meetings to repair damage. Side conversations to build coalitions. It's not malicious. It's mathematical. IQ × EQ × PQ = TQ | TEAM INTELLIGENCE Your team has high IQ (obviously—you don't accidentally become a VP, Assistant Superintendent, Provost, or Principal). But your collective EQ is basically a group chat where everyone's typing and nobody's reading. And your PQ—the Perspective Intelligence (social awareness) about who should be thinking about what and how roles intersect—is a Venn diagram that's actually just eight separate circles pretending to overlap. High individual scores. Zero multiplication happening. You're adding when you should be multiplying. Math doesn't care about your org chart or your governance handbook. When any variable equals zero, the entire equation equals zero. That's not a metaphor. That's math. THE FRAMEWORK: The Three-Meeting Cascade Call this the Meeting Multiplication Dysfunction. Or don't. It'll still explain why your "agile leadership team" needs three attempts to make one decision while everyone else is asking why leadership can't just decide things. 1. THE PRE-MEETING MEETING: When Trust Goes to Die Monday, 6:30 AM. You're meeting your Assistant Superintendent for "quick alignment" before school starts. This happens in your car in the parking lot because your office isn't unlocked yet. You're late for bus duty. The "quick" chat takes 47 minutes. Tuesday, 8:15 AM. Your principal "just needs 5 minutes" before the 10 AM cabinet meeting. Those 5 minutes happen in your doorway while you're trying to review the agenda. It takes 23 minutes. You're now late to your own meeting. Tuesday, 9:45 AM. Three Slack messages. Two "quick questions." One "can we preview something real fast." This is the one that happens before the real meeting because someone "wants to get aligned first." Sounds reasonable. Feels professional. It's actually a symptom of terminal team dysfunction. Here's what pre-meetings actually signal: "I don't trust that my perspective will be heard/valued/understood in the group setting, so I need to lobby individually first." If this were a romantic relationship, we'd call it triangulation and recommend therapy. In leadership teams, we call it "stakeholder management" and put it on our calendars as if it were a virtue. THE PRE-MEETING TRANSLATION GUIDE: "Can we align before Tuesday?" = I'm lobbying before anyone else can. "Quick question before the meeting." = I'm positioning my stance early. "Want to preview this?" = I need your backing before the group. "Can we sync?" = I don't trust the team process (This is why your 10 AM cabinet meeting has six shadow meetings happening between 8-9:45 AM. Everyone's preparing for collaboration like it's game day, except nobody's having fun, and the actual game somehow still disappoints. In K-12, these happen before the buses even arrive. In higher ed, they occur over coffee in offices while students walk past, wondering what administrators actually do all day.) The pre-meeting exists because your team lacks shared language for productive disagreement. So instead of effectively disagreeing in the meeting, they pre-negotiate positions outside it. It's like UN diplomacy except you all work in the same building and could just... talk to each other. But you won't. Because someone might push back. In the actual meeting. Where productive conflict belongs. Comment "TRIANGULATION" if you've scheduled a pre-meeting this week. 2. THE ACTUAL MEETING: Performance Art Masquerading as Decision-Making Tuesday, 10:00 AM. The meeting itself becomes theater. Everyone's performing "collaborative leader" while mentally composing the follow-up email that will walk back whatever gets decided. You can spot this pattern when: Someone says, "I think we're all saying the same thing." Reality: You are clearly NOT all saying the same thing Someone volunteers to: "Take this offline." Translation: "I'll fix this later through a different process because this process is broken." The VP/Principal/Dean, who was VERY CLEAR in your pre-meeting, becomes suddenly philosophical and abstract in the group setting. Decisions get made but somehow lack the specificity needed for implementation, which is how you end up with "strategic priorities" that mean different things to different people and somehow create more work for teachers/faculty who definitely didn't ask for another initiative. In K-12: Building principals leave with three different interpretations of the same directive, and by the time it reaches teachers, it's basically telephone. In higher ed: Deans leave with enough ambiguity to interpret the decision in whatever way least disrupts their college, and by the time it reaches faculty, nobody's sure what was actually decided. This isn't collaboration. This is collaborative fan fiction. Everyone's writing their own ending and hoping it somehow aligns. Meanwhile, your board is asking why implementation is slow, your community is wondering why nothing changes, and your front-line educators are experiencing leadership as a series of contradictory messages that all claim to be "strategic." The actual meeting fails because you've optimized for harmony over clarity. Your team has high individual EQ but low collective EQ. They can each read a room. They've never learned to build a room together where truth-telling doesn't feel dangerous. Repost this if your last cabinet meeting made decisions that still need "clarification." 3. THE POST-MEETING MEETING: Where Decisions Go to Be Reinterpreted This is my personal favorite because it's so predictable you could set your calendar by it. Within 47 minutes of your cabinet meeting ending, someone will ping you to "clarify something." That something is never a clarification. It's a renegotiation. They're reopening what seemed closed because it was never actually closed—it was just ambiguous enough that everyone could leave the meeting believing their interpretation won. THE POST-MEETING PATTERN: Tuesday, 12:30 PM: CFO wants to "clarify budget implications." Tuesday, 2:15 PM: CAO has "concerns they didn't want to raise in front of everyone." Wednesday, 9:00 AM: VP "interprets the decision differently." Thursday, 3:30 PM: You're explaining to the next layer of leadership what was "decided." The post-meeting meeting exists because your team lacks Perspective Intelligence. Nobody's clear on who has decision rights about what. So everything feels like it needs consensus, which means nothing ever gets truly decided, which means the decision-making process becomes an infinite loop of meetings about meetings about meetings. If your PQ were functioning, people would know: "This is my decision domain. This is your decision domain. Here's where they intersect and how we coordinate." Instead, everyone's domain is "strategic leadership," which practically means everyone has opinions about everything and decision rights about nothing. In K-12, this creates a phenomenon in which superintendents make district-level decisions that principals then "adapt" for their buildings, resulting in teachers experiencing inconsistent leadership. In higher ed: This creates the phenomenon where presidents make institutional decisions that provosts then "contextualize" for academic affairs, which deans then "interpret" for their colleges, which department chairs then... you get the idea. By the time it reaches the classroom, nobody's sure what the original decision was. Tag your cabinet member who's best at "clarifying" decisions after meetings (do it cowardly—don't name what they're actually doing). THE CASE STUDY: Marcus and the 14-Hour Miracle Let me tell you about a leader I'll call Marcus (not his real name, but Marcus, your former CFO absolutely knows this story is about you two and is probably smirking right now). Marcus led a mid-sized institution—a regional public university that could just as easily have been a suburban school district of 8,000 students dealing with declining enrollment, rising costs, and a board asking increasingly uncomfortable questions about efficiency. His cabinet: 7 people with an average of 19 years in education. Combined credentials that could stock a small academic conference. Combined ability to make a decision without three meetings? Roughly equivalent to a committee asked to choose pizza toppings while honoring everyone's dietary restrictions and also addressing systemic inequity in pizza distribution. Before we worked together, Marcus's calendar was a crime scene. I'm talking 23 hours per week in cabinet-related meetings. Not including the "quick syncs" that somehow always took 40 minutes. Not including the "can we talk about Tuesday" messages that turned into strategy sessions in the parking lot. Not including the time spent translating cabinet decisions to the next layer of leadership who would then need their own meetings to process what leadership decided. His team wasn't lazy. They were meeting themselves to death. They'd have the Monday cabinet meeting. Then, on Tuesday morning, his CFO would "want to clarify the budget implications." Tuesday afternoon, his Chief Academic Officer would "need to discuss how this affects instructional priorities / academic programs." Wednesday, his VP of Advancement would "have concerns about community perception" (in K-12, substitute "Director of Communications" worried about parent reaction). By Thursday, Marcus was re-meeting about Monday's meeting while preparing for the following Monday's meeting. By Friday, he was exhausted and wondering why leadership felt more like crisis management than strategic direction. His team had an average TEAM INTELLIGENCE score of 4.2 out of 10. For context, that's the score where teams are technically functioning but primarily through heroic individual effort and way too many meetings. High IQ (9.1 average). Catastrophically low EQ (3.8 collective). And a PQ configuration that made about as much sense as their parking situation (which, coincidentally, also frustrated everyone daily). Then Marcus did something radical: He killed the pre-meetings. Not by policy. You can't policy your way out of a trust problem. He did it by creating conditions in which pre-meetings became unnecessary. His team took the TEAM INTELLIGENCE assessment (results were humbling—to quote his CFO: "Well, this explains why I schedule all those 'alignment conversations'"). His team wasn't lazy. They were meeting themselves to death. They built a shared language for disagreement (turns out you can just... disagree in meetings if you've practiced how to do it productively first). They clarified decision rights so people stopped feeling like everything needed consensus (spoiler: most things don't need consensus, they need a clear decision-maker and good communication after). Six months later: Same people. Same challenges. Same budget constraints and enrollment pressures. 61% fewer meetings. They still had cabinet meetings. But those meetings became actual decision-making sessions instead of performance art. They still had hard conversations. But those conversations happened IN the meeting, not in the shadow government of pre- and post-meetings surrounding it. Decisions got made with clarity. Implementation happened faster. Teachers/faculty experienced leadership as more coherent. The board stopped asking, "Why does everything take so long?" His calendar went from 23 hours of cabinet meetings per week to 9. That's 14 hours back per week. That's 588 hours per year. That's 3.5 months of 40-hour workweeks. Marcus got back by teaching his team to think together instead of preparing to perform. The difference? They stopped optimizing for comfort and started optimizing for clarity. Revolutionary? No. Obvious? Yes. Common? Based on the data from 987 leadership teams across K-12 and higher ed—absolutely not. Now, if you're thinking, "this makes perfect sense, but how do I actually facilitate this conversation with my team next Tuesday without it turning into another meeting about meetings?"—I get it. That's the gap between insight and implementation. This is what The GROUP is for. Each week, I turn the newsletter topic into a Leader CORE Lesson and Guide: facilitation notes, discussion prompts, the Meeting Audit tool, team exercises for building disagreement infrastructure, diagnostic questions—everything you need to lead your team through this content without spending Sunday night building materials from scratch. It's free (because I'm not going to charge you to solve a problem that's already costing you half a million dollars annually), built for busy leaders who need practical resources —not more theory —and designed for Monday morning meetings when you're already exhausted from last week's meeting cascade. Grab this week's guide: But if you join The GROUP or not, here's what you'll be able to implement immediately... THE APPLICATION: What To Do Monday Morning (Assuming you survived last week's meeting marathon and aren't currently hiding in your car eating lunch alone to avoid more "quick syncs") Step 1: The Meeting Audit (20 minutes) At your next cabinet meeting, put this on the agenda: "Before we dive into today's topics, let's do a 10-minute mapping exercise. Everyone, take out your calendar. Count the hours you spent last week in: pre-meetings for cabinet decisions, the actual cabinet meeting, and post-meetings clarifying cabinet decisions. Include the 'quick chats' and 'alignment conversations.' Be honest—nobody's grading this except your own calendar." Then go around the room. Say your numbers out loud. Add them up. If the total is under 30 hours for your whole team, you're doing better than 73% of leadership teams (congrats, you can skip the rest of this newsletter and go actually lead something). If it's 40-60 hours, you're average (which in this context means "acceptably dysfunctional"). If it's over 60 hours, you have a yacht-sized problem (see opening paragraph). Now multiply that weekly total by 42 working weeks. Then multiply by your team's average fully-loaded compensation rate (salary + benefits, divided by 2,080 working hours per year). That number you just calculated? That's not your collaboration investment. That's your collaboration tax. And unlike your actual taxes, this one is optional. (If someone says, "But we NEED all these meetings to stay aligned," you've just identified who benefits most from the current system. Usually, it's the person with the lowest collective EQ who's compensating with individual relationship management. We love them. They're exhausting. We'll address this in Step 3.) Step 2: The Trust Diagnostic (15 minutes, uncomfortable but worth it) Still in that same meeting, ask this question: "On a scale of 1-10, how comfortable are you disagreeing with someone in this room during our meetings—not in a pre-meeting, not in a post-meeting, but in the actual meeting when the whole team is present?" Write down your own answer first. Then go around the room. If everyone says 8+, somebody's lying (probably the person who scheduled three pre-meetings last week). If answers differ by more than 4 points, you don't share a common understanding of your team's emotional infrastructure. If anyone says below 5, you've just identified why the pre-meetings exist. If your K-12 principals or higher ed deans are giving answers different from those of your central office/administrative team, you've identified a systemic problem—trust doesn't cascade; it has to be built at every level. Here's the thing about trust in teams: It's not built through retreats or trust falls or that time you did an escape room and technically escaped, but Susan will NEVER forgive Brad for not listening to the red herrings. Trust is built through successfully navigating disagreement together. Your team doesn't trust each other because they've never practiced disagreeing productively. So they've created an elaborate system of side conversations to avoid disagreement entirely. You can't policy your way out of this. You have to practice your way through it. Step 3: The Decision Rights Map (30 minutes in next meeting) This is where you fix the PQ dysfunction that's causing half your post-meetings. Create a simple chart with three columns: MY DECISION (I decide, I inform you) OUR DECISION (We decide together, consensus required) YOUR DECISION (You decide, you inform me) Then list your top 10 most common decision types. In K-12: budget reallocation, curriculum adoption, staffing changes, facility use, discipline policies, community communication, and program modifications. In higher ed: budget reallocation, academic program changes, enrollment strategy shifts, policy updates, resource distribution, faculty matters, student services changes. Go through each one. Assign it to a column. Watch the discomfort happen when people realize they've been treating "Your Decision" items like "Our Decision" items, which is why everything takes three meetings and someone's always unhappy. If more than 40% of items land in "Our Decision," you have a consensus addiction problem. Leadership teams that require consensus for everything make zero decisions quickly. They make elaborate compromises slowly. There's a difference. And while you're compromising, your teachers are waiting for clarity, your faculty are wondering if anyone's actually in charge, and your students are experiencing the consequences of slow leadership. The goal: Clarity about who decides what. Not consensus about everything. Not dictatorships about anything. Clarity. So people stop reopening decisions that weren't theirs to make and stop avoiding decisions that are. OBJECTION HANDLING "But we don't have time for this meta-conversation about meetings." You just spent 47 hours last week in meetings ABOUT meetings. You don't have time NOT to have this conversation. Also, this isn't meta. This is the actual work. The strategic planning you keep meeting about? That's the distraction. The real work is building a team that can think together efficiently enough to actually execute the strategy you keep strategizing about. You're not too busy to fix this. You're too busy BECAUSE of this. And while you're busy meeting, enrollment decisions are being made by families who won't wait for your cabinet to align, competitive institutions are moving faster, and your best teachers/faculty are wondering if leadership will ever actually lead. "My team needs those pre-meetings to feel prepared." Your team needs those pre-meetings because they don't feel safe being unprepared in front of each other. That's not a preparation problem. That's a psychological safety problem disguised as professional courtesy. Teams with high collective EQ think out loud together. They bring half-formed ideas to meetings and refine them collectively. They disagree productively and leave aligned. Teams with low collective EQ think separately, prepare extensively, perform agreement publicly, then repair privately. Your team is currently doing the second thing. It's costing you 588 hours per year per leader. The bar for "better" is underground. And the opportunity cost? While you're meeting about meetings, other districts/institutions are outpacing you. Not because they're smarter. Because they're faster. THE MATURITY SHIFT Immature leaders think: "We need more meetings to stay aligned." Mature leaders think: "We need better TEAM INTELLIGENCE, so we need fewer meetings." Immature leaders optimize calendar coverage—if it's not on the calendar, it's not important. Mature leaders optimize decision velocity—how fast can we move from question to clarity to action while everyone else is still scheduling pre-meetings? Immature leaders treat pre-meetings as strategic stakeholder management. Mature leaders treat pre-meetings as symptoms of broken team infrastructure that need diagnosis, not optimization. Immature leaders believe slow decision-making demonstrates thoughtfulness. Mature leaders know slow decision-making demonstrates dysfunction (and demonstrates it to everyone who's waiting for leadership to lead—teachers, faculty, students, families, boards, communities). The difference is the difference between managing around your team's limitations and eliminating those limitations. One makes you busy. One makes you effective. One gives you a calendar that looks impressive in screenshots. One gives you time, actually, to lead while the world keeps changing around you. The meeting about the meeting isn't a best practice. It's a red flag wrapped in Outlook invites. And unlike your actual challenges (enrollment shifts, budget pressures, political polarization making every decision feel like navigating landmines, AI disrupting everything, including how you're supposed to lead), this one is 100% fixable. Today. By you. With your team. Your Turn How many hours did YOU spend last week in pre-meetings, actual meetings, and post-meetings for cabinet decisions? Bonus points if you can calculate what that costs in actual dollars using your fully-loaded compensation rate. Double bonus points if you can calculate what that time could have been spent on instead—instructional leadership, strategic thinking, community building, literally anything that serves students instead of serving meeting culture. Drop a comment. Tag the cabinet member who schedules the most pre-meetings (do it cowardly—tag them without naming what they do). Or screenshot this and text it to your entire cabinet with the subject line "Wednesday's agenda just changed." Found value in this? Help other educational leaders discover it: → Repost this with your calculated meeting tax number → Tag a leader who lives in pre-meeting purgatory → Comment with your most absurd "quick sync" story—your story helps others feel less alone The more leaders shift from meeting about meetings to actually making decisions, the better our educational systems become. And given everything happening in education right now—political pressure, financial constraints, enrollment uncertainty, technology disruption—we need leaders who can actually lead, not leaders stuck in meeting purgatory while the world changes around them. Follow @Dr. Joe Hill and @Higher Performance Group for weekly # TEAM INTELLIGENCE insights. Next Issue: "Your Strategic Plan Has Group Project Energy (And Everyone's Doing Their Part Wrong)" We'll explore why your five-year vision feels like that college group project where everyone submitted their section without reading anyone else's, the bibliography has three different citation formats, and somehow you still got a B- because the professor gave up grading it halfway through. Spoiler: You're not having a strategic alignment problem. You're having a "nobody read the Google Doc instructions" problem, and someone keeps editing it without track changes while another person is still working in the old version they downloaded to their desktop three weeks ago. P.S. If you're thinking "I don't have time to turn this newsletter into a facilitation plan for Tuesday's cabinet meeting"—I already did it for you. The GROUP is a free community where every newsletter becomes a ready-to-deploy Leader CORE Lesson and Guide. This week's implementation guide includes: · The Meeting Audit tool · The Trust Diagnostic script · The Decision Rights Map template · Facilitation notes for navigating the discomfort · Discussion prompts for the inevitable "but we're different" objections · Plus adaptations for both K-12 and higher ed contexts Because a superintendent's cabinet operates differently from a university president's cabinet, and the guide honors both. Join The GROUP here - it's free! Think of it as the Costco version of team development. You buy in bulk (one membership, unlimited resources). You save money and time. And unlike Costco, you won't leave with a kayak you don't need and 47 pounds of muffins you'll never finish. Plus, you get access to hundreds of educational leaders across K-12 and higher ed who are also trying to escape meeting hell and understand why their calendar looks like a game of Tetris designed by someone who hates them.  The implementation guides save you hours. The peer conversations? Those might save your sanity and possibly your marriage (because you'll stop working until 9 PM to "catch up" from all the meetings).