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I am that parent at the swim gala. You know the one - standing at the edge of the pool or on the balcony, belting out instructions and shouting encouragement to my daughter during her races. "Kick Niamh! Big push off the wall! Arms all the way over! High elbows! Stay off the lane rope!" As if my anxious gesticulations could somehow propel her faster toward the finish line. It wasn't until I caught everyone else in the audience’s raised eyebrows or when a couple literally got up and moved because I was too loud, that I realised what I was doing. Here I was, supposedly writing and speaking about leadership and personal development, yet unable to let my own child swim her own race - literally.
Control is seductive. It promises certainty in an uncertain world, mastery over outcomes, protection from failure. Yet increasingly, I'm discovering that our desperate grasp for control often achieves precisely the opposite of what we intend. The tighter we hold, the more things seem to slip through our fingers.
The post-pandemic landscape has thrown this into sharp relief. After years of enforced adaptation to circumstances beyond our control, many of us have emerged with an almost reflexive need to micromanage whatever we can. We lost seemingly all control of where we could go, who we could see and for how long and even how we dressed. Recent UK workplace studies show a marked increase in monitoring behaviours, with 71% of managers reporting higher levels of oversight in remote work settings than before (and the kickback of browser extensions that moved your mouse regularly so you looked ‘active’ whilst you snoozed or watched Netflix!) Yet simultaneously, employee autonomy has emerged as a key factor in both retention and performance.
This tension between our desire for control and the evident benefits of letting go isn't just a modern phenomenon. Karen Horney, writing in the mid-20th century, identified the ‘need to control’ as one of the fundamental neurotic needs that drive human behaviour. She observed that this compulsion often stems from deep-seated anxiety about uncertainty - something our current era has served up in abundance.
The Control Compulsion
If someone's ever told you "you're a control freak" (probably not in those exact words if they're British - we tend to dance around such direct accusations), you'll know the instant defensive response: "I just like things done properly". It's a telling reaction. The need to control often masquerades as perfectionism, efficiency, or responsibility. Yet Karen Horney's work suggests something deeper at play.
Horney identified that our compulsive need for control isn't simply about wanting things done right - it's a defensive mechanism against anxiety. In her clinical observations, she noted that those with the strongest need to control were often those who felt most vulnerable to life's uncertainties. Sound familiar? In an era where change is constant and unpredictability is the only predictable thing, our grip on the steering wheel has tightened considerably.
“To find a mountain path all by oneself gives a greater feeling of strength than to take a path that is shown.” Karen Horney
Recent research from the Chartered Management Institute reveals a startling statistic: 68% of UK managers admit to increasing their oversight of team members since 2020, despite evidence suggesting this heightened control often diminishes performance. It's as if we're collectively saying, "I know micromanagement doesn't work, but surely just a bit more oversight couldn't hurt?".
The neurobiological perspective adds another layer to understanding this compulsion. When faced with uncertainty, our amygdala - that primitive part of our brain responsible for threat response - kicks into overdrive. The need to control becomes a stress response, not a strategic choice. We grasp for control not because it's effective, but because it temporarily soothes our anxiety about what might happen if we don't.
Modern workplaces and schools have become particular breeding grounds for this control compulsion. A senior executive at a UK retailer recently shared with me their realisation that they were checking their team's online status every hour - a behaviour they'd have found absurd three years ago. "I tell myself it's about maintaining productivity" they admitted, "but honestly, it's about my own anxiety". And education establishments aren’t any better - many of them clock what time staff leave, how many times they have opened Google Classroom or even their lateness to break duty!
This control compulsion manifests in subtle ways:
- The parent who completes their child's homework 'just to make sure it's right'
- The manager who requires CCing on every email exchange
- The partner who plans every minute detail of a holiday
- The team leader who can't resist 'just tweaking' their staff's presentations
The impact? A recent study of UK businesses found that highly controlling management styles led to a 23% increase in staff turnover and a 32% decrease in innovative solutions. We're literally controlling our way into worse outcomes.
The "Good Enough" Revolution
D.W. Winnicott's concept of the "good enough mother" was revolutionary when he introduced it in post-war Britain. His insight - that perfect parenting isn't just impossible but potentially harmful - initially scandalised a society fixated on ideals of maternal perfection. Today, his notion of ‘good enough’ offers a powerful antidote to our control-obsessed culture.
Winnicott observed that children actually benefit from experiencing manageable failures and limitations. Perfect responsiveness, he argued, deprives them of the opportunity to develop resilience and autonomy. It's a finding that modern UK workplace research echoes: teams exposed to constant oversight and correction show markedly less initiative and innovation than those allowed to navigate challenges independently.
We can see this in play in the case of a Manchester-based software company that recently overhauled its quality assurance process. Previously, every piece of code required three levels of review before deployment. "We were trying to guarantee perfect code", their CTO explained, "but what we actually guaranteed was slow delivery and demotivated developers". Their shift to a 'good enough' approach - allowing teams to deploy with peer review only - resulted in faster innovation and, counterintuitively, fewer critical bugs. Why? Because developers, trusted with autonomy, became more rigorous in their own quality checks. And with AI in the mix, this means that there are failsafes and checks in place that can help anyway.
The 'good enough' revolution isn't about lowering standards - it's about understanding where perfectionism becomes counterproductive. A headteacher I worked with recently made a brave decision to stop checking every teacher's lesson plans. "It was taking hours of my time and their time", she reflected. "More importantly, it was sending the message that I didn't trust their professional judgment." The result? Teachers began sharing ideas more freely, experimenting with new approaches, and yes - occasionally making mistakes that led to valuable learning. The change in focus towards ‘reflective practice’ is surely a better way.
This shift requires confronting uncomfortable truths:
- Perfect control is an illusion
- Growth requires space for failure
- Trust and risk are inseparable
- ‘Good enough’ often produces better results than ‘perfect’
The financial cost of perfectionism is staggering. A study of UK businesses estimated that excessive control mechanisms - multiple approval layers, comprehensive checking processes, detailed reporting requirements - cost organisations an average of £8,000 per employee annually in lost productivity. But the human cost is even higher: increased stress, reduced creativity, and diminished engagement.
Willing Surrender
Roberto Assagioli's work on 'the will' offers a fascinating perspective on letting go. Unlike his contemporaries who viewed surrender as weakness, Assagioli saw conscious release of control as an act of strength. It's not about becoming passive; it's about choosing where to direct our energy.
Assagioli's ‘act as if’ methodology provides a practical framework for this transition. Rather than waiting to feel comfortable with releasing control, we act as if we're already comfortable with it. It's about behaviour preceding belief - a concept that's particularly relevant in our anxiety-driven pursuit of certainty.
“Another method is that of “Acting as if,” based on the law that every external act tends to awaken and intensify the corresponding feeling. To quote what I have said elsewhere about this law: “It lends itself to a thousand different ways of application. From putting on a smile to dispel worry, to showing unusual friendliness to a person to stifle resentment that we recognise is unfair”. There are virtually no situations in which the systematic use of these tools does not prove to be of valuable assistance.” Robert Assagioli
The core principle of willing surrender involves:
- Consciously choosing where to release control
- Distinguishing between responsibility and control
- Recognising that influence often increases when we stop trying to force it
- Understanding that trust is a practice, not just a feeling
Mel Robbins' perspective on letting go cuts through the complexity with stark simplicity: just let them. Speaking on The Diary of a CEO, she explained how most of our stress comes from trying to control other people's behaviour, decisions, and responses. Her solution is radical acceptance - getting there quickly rather than fighting reality. Instead of trying to change how your teenager dresses, how your colleague works, or how your partner loads the dishwasher - just let them. This isn't about lowering standards or accepting harmful behaviour; it's about recognising which battles drain our energy without providing meaningful returns. It's about reaching the point of acceptance now, rather than after hours, days, or years of fruitless attempts at control.
A stark example emerged from a Yorkshire comprehensive school's approach to student behaviour management. Moving away from rigid control mechanisms to a relationship-based approach initially terrified staff. "It felt like we were surrendering our authority", the head of year 11 recalled. "But we discovered that real authority comes from relationships, not rules." Behavioural incidents decreased by 47% in the first term - not because control was tighter, but because it had been thoughtfully released. And this isn’t license for doing nothing about poor behaviour or lowering of standards; it’s about moving away from dictatorial focus, an endless list of traditional rules and unnecessary Draconian hierarchy that pervades our schools.
Willing surrender isn't about abdicating responsibility or throwing out all structure. It's about creating what Assagioli called "directed freedom" - clear boundaries within which independence can flourish. Like a garden trellis that supports growth without constraining it.
The Agency Paradox
Anthony Giddens' insights on the relationship between structure and agency offer a fascinating lens through which to view our control dilemmas. His central observation - that social structures both enable and constrain human action - helps explain a peculiar phenomenon: the more we try to control others, the less real influence we actually have.
Consider Giddens' analysis of language. The structures of language - its grammar, vocabulary, accepted usage - make communication possible. Yet these same structures can constrain how we express ourselves. However, speakers constantly modify these constraints through use, creating new words, shifting meanings, developing slang. The very rules that enable clear communication are themselves changed by the people using them. It's what Giddens terms the 'duality of structure' - systems simultaneously control and enable change.
This dynamic plays out powerfully in his study of education and class reproduction. Schools, designed as engines of social mobility, often end up reinforcing the very inequalities they aim to address. The structures intended to create opportunity - standardised testing, uniform requirements, behavioural policies - can actually constrain it. Yet within these constraints, students and teachers find ways to create change, demonstrating how human agency operates even within controlling systems.
This gets to the heart of Giddens' theory of structuration: power and control aren't simple top-down forces, but rather exist in a constant state of negotiation. The moment we try to exert absolute control, we actually diminish our influence by provoking resistance and workarounds. His work suggests that effective leadership isn't about tightening our grip, but about understanding how to work with this duality - creating frameworks that enable, rather than merely restrict. Systems that acknowledge and work with human agency, rather than trying to suppress it, ultimately prove more robust and influential than those built on rigid control.
This shift requires understanding:
- Control and influence are not the same thing
- Structures should enable rather than constrain
- Agency breeds responsibility
- True power often lies in creating conditions rather than directing action.
The implications for organisations are profound. The old command-and-control structures, already creaking before the pandemic, now look increasingly obsolete. Yet many leaders, anxious about maintaining standards and accountability, cling to them like a familiar but uncomfortable jumper. The evidence suggests this attachment is misplaced.
Loosening Our Grip
Moving from theory to practice, where exactly should we loosen our grip? It's all well and good talking about releasing control, but the reality needs concrete starting points. Like standing at the top of a climbing wall, we need to know which holds to let go of first.
Take meetings. Since we all started working from home, the old "must have an agenda or the world will end" mindset has taken a beating. Microsoft's research shows what many of us suspected - when we stop trying to control every minute of people's time together, they actually bond better and come up with cleverer ideas. It's not about turning every meeting into a free-for-all, but maybe we don't need to schedule thinking down to the last PowerPoint slide.
Then there's the whole email palaver. Ever noticed how some managers seem to think being copied into every single message is their birthright? Researchers from the British Journal of Management have found that this obsession with oversight is properly doing people's heads in - not to mention killing productivity. It turns out that when you stop CC'ing the world and their dog into every conversation, work actually gets done faster. Who knew?
And let's talk about parenting - probably the toughest place to let go - and one I mentioned at the beginning of this piece. UCL's research is pretty clear on this one: those parents who manage to find the sweet spot between being completely hands-off and full helicopter mode tend to raise kids who do better across the board. It's about having proper boundaries while still letting them figure stuff out for themselves. I do think it’s worth mentioning Esther Wojicki’s model that I talked about way back when (it was FRiDEAS #3 if anyone is interested!). She talked about TRICK as the way that she brought her children up and talks about it in How To Raise Successful People.
The timing of release matters as much as the what. Mel Robbins talks about "getting to acceptance quickly" but that doesn't mean rushing the process recklessly. Toyota's famous production system demonstrates this balance perfectly. Their documented journey to worker autonomy didn't happen overnight - they identified specific points in their manufacturing process where control could be safely transferred to the team. Each successful handover built confidence for the next.
But let's be realistic. Some things need tight control. You wouldn't want your surgeon getting creative mid-operation or your airline pilot deciding to try a new landing approach on a whim. The UK Civil Aviation Authority's safety framework makes this crystal clear: absolute control over critical safety processes, but increasing flexibility in how teams manage their day-to-day work. It's about being smart enough to know the difference between what needs iron-clad control and what we're controlling out of habit.
Cultural Contextualisation
British organisational culture has a peculiar relationship with control. We're the nation that perfected the art of queuing, yet our humour thrives on chaos. We created both rigid class structures and the irreverence to mock them. This duality shapes how we approach letting go of control in professional and personal contexts.
Post-pandemic, this cultural complexity has intensified. Remote work forced many British organisations to confront their control habits. A recent survey of UK firms found that 64% of managers admitted to struggling with reduced oversight of their teams. As one NHS administrator confidentially stated, "We discovered our control mechanisms were more about comfort than necessity. When we couldn't monitor physical presence, we had to focus on actual outcomes".
The shift has been particularly pronounced in traditional sectors. I have referred to Deloitte UK's decision in 2023 to overhaul their traditional working patterns - not just hybrid working, but fundamentally rethinking how work gets measured and valued. After decades of professional services firms clinging to time-based metrics, they moved towards output-based performance measures. It's a seismic shift in a sector notorious for valuing presenteeism over productivity.
Education provides another fascinating lens on our cultural relationship with control - and one that I feel needs a lesson on letting go of control. The Ofsted framework's 2019 shift away from grading individual lessons, and this year’s move to remove single-word gradings for schools (not colleges strangely though) marked a significant change in how we think about classroom management. While some schools still cling to micro-managing teaching styles, research from the Education Endowment Foundation shows that giving teachers more autonomy over their methods - while maintaining clear outcome expectations - leads to better results. It's not about abandoning standards but trusting professional judgment. I know this firsthand - I wasn’t a stickler for plans, deadlines or naming conventions but I knew how to get students learning.
We're seeing similar tensions play out in:
- Family dynamics (the shift from authoritarian to authoritative parenting)
- Healthcare (the move towards patient-led care)
- Public services (the growing emphasis on community-led initiatives)
- Corporate governance (the rise of flexible working policies)
Yet our cultural attachment to control persists in subtle ways. One strange phenomenon is the peculiarly British concept of the ‘working lunch’ - eating at our desks while checking emails. It's as if we can't quite let go of control even for 30 minutes to eat properly. One major retailer's head office recently made their staff canteen a device-free zone. "It felt revolutionary", their HR director admitted. "Simply creating a space where people couldn't constantly monitor their work transformed our culture."
Our Big Takeaways
The journey from control to release requires clear, actionable steps. Here are five key practices to help navigate this transition:
1. Identify Your Control Triggers
Understanding when and why we grasp for control is essential for changing our behaviour. This isn't just about listing situations - it's about deep self-observation. Notice when your shoulders tense during meetings, or when you feel compelled to check your child's homework for the third time. These physical and emotional responses are valuable data points. Keep a simple note of when control feels necessary versus when it's merely habitual. This awareness creates the foundation for change.
2. Start with Safe Experiments
Change begins with controlled experiments, ironically enough. Choose situations where the stakes are relatively low - perhaps letting your team run a minor project without oversight, or allowing your teenager to plan their own revision schedule. The key is to create clear parameters while resisting the urge to step in. Document what happens when you step back. Often, the results will surprise you, building confidence for bigger releases.
3. Develop New Metrics
Our traditional measurements often reinforce controlling behaviours. Instead of tracking time spent or processes followed, focus on meaningful outcomes. This might mean evaluating team success by project results rather than adherence to procedures, or measuring student learning through demonstration rather than rigid assessment criteria. These new metrics should encourage autonomy while maintaining accountability. I spoke to the owner of a cleaning company recently who pays their employees for the quality of their work, not the hours it takes.
4. Build Trust Systematically
Trust isn't given blindly - it's built systematically through clear expectations and consistent behaviour. Start by being explicit about what matters most. Share your non-negotiables while leaving space for individual approaches to flourish. When mistakes happen (and they will), treat them as learning opportunities rather than proof that control should be reinstated. Celebrate initiative, even when the results aren't perfect.
5. Maintain Perspective
Remember that perfection isn't the goal - effectiveness is. Some situations genuinely require tight control, but they're fewer than we imagine. Challenge yourself regularly: does this really need my oversight, or am I controlling out of habit? Consider the cost of control - not just in time and energy, but in lost opportunities for growth and innovation. Sometimes the best action is simply to step back and trust the process.
These five practices aren't a linear progression but an interconnected system. They work together to create a new approach to achievement - one that values growth over grip, development over direction, and authenticity over authority.
Further Reading
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