The Middle is Where Communication Gets Hard
When we’re preparing for change, professionally or personally, we often think of how to get started and where we want to end. We start a new workout plan, thinking of our goal — hitting a new PR, improving our cardio — and we think about what needs to change now — adjusting our schedule to create a workout window, signing up for a gym membership — but how often do we think about the weeks in between our starting point and our end goal?
That window when we’ve gotten over the hardest part (getting started, in my opinion), and we settle into the phase of the change where consistency becomes more important than milestones and checklists, as we work our way towards celebrating the ultimate goal — this middle window of change can sometimes be the most uncomfortable. It’s not as exciting as the newness of a new pair of running shoes or the nervous excitement of trying a new workout class. It can feel mundane. The excitement of change has given way to the daily or weekly consistency of making the choices needed to work toward your goal. We don’t get excited talking about the middle. We start the first run thinking about the first run, and we picture the 5K we’re training for, but we rarely picture the steady rhythm of lacing up again and again.
And yet, we can’t achieve the goal without the middle. That’s where the real change actually happens.
The same is true when organizations make a change. We identify what we want to shift, we plan the launch, and we think about how we’ll roll out the eventual outcome. Sure, part of the conversation is often “and we’ll keep everyone updated throughout” or “we’ll ensure transparency is part of our communication during the change process.” But how often do we give the same meaningful thought to the middle that we do to the announcement and the rollout? In my research, this is where I see the biggest gap in how we prepare for change.
Part of what makes the middle easy to overlook is that it isn’t as definite on our timeline as a start and a finish. The middle is where our decision and the change is in motion. Roles are shifting. Expectations and processes are evolving. We know what we’re working toward, but the time between “here” and the finish line feels fuzzy. The middle is where lived experience is happening outside of formal milestones. It’s where people are actively experiencing the change and trying to make sense of it.
When we decide to merge two divisions at work, we may focus on the initial decision to merge, the ultimate benefit we see from it, and the key milestones in between. What we may not fully account for is how the people inside those divisions are experiencing the change. On the surface, it can look like we’re “managing” the consolidation — planning meetings, updating org charts, putting new processes on paper, creating a forward-looking strategy. Underneath that, people may be feeling something else entirely: that they’ve lost control.
That feeling of losing control is one we’ve all felt in some form, so we know how uncomfortable it can be. And those feelings are often exacerbated by how communication tends to go in the middle of change.
Leadership is thinking through strategy and trying to execute it on top of their other daily responsibilities. It may feel like there isn’t enough time to follow through with the thoughtful and transparent communication you promised would occur throughout. You try not to recreate the wheel by making minor adaptations to previous messages, assuming that more communication is better. You wait for full clarity before explaining a part of the change. Procedural and technical language can feel easier, somehow more “honest,” than emotional and relational language. You don’t want to sound like you’re sugarcoating things or trying to grease the wheels.
It’s easy to fall into these tendencies because leadership feels pressure during change: pressure to say the “right” thing (or at least avoid saying the wrong thing), and pressure to project confidence. Meanwhile, leaders may be feeling discomfort and uncertainty themselves, watching how people are responding, wondering how relationships are shifting, trying to make decisions that won’t fully reveal their impact until later.
So communication can drift toward what feels safe: information and updates over interpretation and acknowledgment. We avoid leaving room for discomfort by not naming it — strain, tension, apprehension, grief, confusion — anything we worry might be perceived as “negative.”
Underneath the surface, those affected by the change are asking what does this mean for me? What isn’t being said by leadership? How will the outcome of this change impact me, and will it be for better or for worse?
My research reflects this pattern. In merging organizations I studied, leadership often prioritized consistency and straightforwardness, but left little room to acknowledge what people were carrying emotionally and relationally in the middle.
For example, an organization might hold group meetings or town halls to share information. That can feel like transparency, and it is a form of it. But there isn’t always space for meaningful conversation. Maybe questions are allowed, but they aren’t answered in a way that helps people make sense of what’s happening. In some cases, as I saw in my study, people were invited to ask questions, but leaders had a practice of not answering them in real time.
In that scenario, people are given a place to speak, but not a meaningful opportunity to be engaged. The communication is happening at people, not with them.
So what happens when we under-communicate in the middle of the change process?
When people don’t feel they’re getting timely, transparent, meaningful communication, rumors start filling the gaps. Trust quietly erodes. And the narratives created in hushed hallway conversations harden into accepted stories. These effects are often unintentional. It can be easy to label them as resistance or frame them as something to manage away. But seeking answers and emotionally guarding in the face of uncertainty are human nature. It’s not necessarily a failure of leadership. More often, it’s a missed opportunity.
This is why staying present in the middle matters.
A starting point is to treat “middle communication” as a real part of the change strategy from the beginning, on equal footing with the announcement and the desired outcome. The challenge, of course, is that we don’t yet know exactly how the middle will play out. We can envision the end goal. We have more control over the initial announcement because nothing has shifted yet. The middle is different: it requires communication inside uncertainty.
One way to plan for that is to give yourself questions to return to, and that help you pause and reflect on what the people affected by the change might need to hear.
What can be named, even if it can’t be resolved? — “We know that people are feeling strain from additional workload as we figure out the restructuring of our merging divisions.”
What does presence in the uncertainty look like? — “We are still discussing the best way to structure leadership of the merged division. We understand that in the meantime, there may be concerns about how this will impact jobs and responsibilities. We want to assure you that we are aware of and understand these concerns as we invest time and thought into the new leadership structure.”
How might communication evolve as understanding evolves? — “Last week we addressed our continuing conversations about new division leadership and our understanding of the concerns this raises in the meantime. This week, we’d like to share what we’ve clarified and inform you about what decisions still need more time.”
How might resistance be seen as a feedback loop, instead of a barrier to moving forward? — “It has come to our attention that there are concerns about how established approval processes will be adapted for the newly merged division. We welcome your thoughts and feedback on this concern and will be holding a feedback session next Tuesday to invite conversation before we finalize the approach.”
The middle of the change process is where trust is built or lost, and that trust work starts earlier than we like to admit. Even before a change has been announced, people can feel uncertainty and start to wonder what things will look like one week, one month, one year from now, as the pending change threatens their established normal.
This uncertainty does not disappear with a perfectly crafted announcement or a well-intended town hall. If communication is not thoughtful, consistent, transparent, and emotionally resonant, it is likely to miss the mark, regardless of intention. In some instances, even well-intended consistency can turn into a quantity-over-quality situation.
The next time you are preparing for a change, personal or professional, ask yourself what communication will look like between the milestones, not just upon reaching them.
