Since arriving in Oxford, I’ve become slightly obsessed with gargoyles.
Or… what I thought were gargoyles.
The 13th- and 14th-century buildings here are covered in faces, monsters, mythical creatures, and bits of nature carved into stone. I find myself constantly looking up.
But here’s what I’ve learned: most of what we casually call gargoyles aren’t gargoyles at all.
Technically, a gargoyle has a job. It’s a waterspout. It channels rain away from the building. If it doesn’t drain water, it isn’t a gargoyle.
It’s a grotesque – decorative, expressive, symbolic.
And yet? We call them all gargoyles.
Somewhere along the way we lost the distinction. The shorthand became the norm. The actual function – the thing that tells you what something is – got swallowed up by a word that’s easier to say.
We do this in organizations all the time.
Now, to be fair, generalization isn’t bad. It’s human. Our brains are built for efficiency. Categorizing reduces cognitive load. It helps us move quickly.
But here’s the leadership tension:
When leaders stop distinguishing, culture gets shaped by labels instead of reality.
“They’re resistant.” → Maybe they need clarity.
“We have a communication problem.” → Maybe priorities are competing.
“That team is difficult.” → Maybe roles are confused, authority overlaps, or incentives are misaligned.
When everything becomes a “gargoyle,” we stop examining function. And culture quietly absorbs the shorthand.
The fastest way to damage culture is to misname what’s happening.
I was recently brought into an organization where two senior leaders were described to me as impossible. Their teams were at odds. Meetings were tense. Decisions stalled. The narrative was clear: these two just didn’t get along.
But when we slowed things down and looked at the system – not just the personalities – something else emerged.
Their roles had been redesigned twice in three years. Decision rights were muddy. Both were accountable for outcomes neither fully controlled. Historical grievances had never been addressed. Each believed they were protecting the organization.
The behavior everyone labeled as “ego” was actually anxiety inside an unclear structure.
In systems work, we sometimes talk about the team or relationship itself as a kind of third entity – something with its own dynamics, separate from the individuals inside it. The tension doesn’t always belong to the people. Sometimes it belongs to the space between them: the structure, the history, the unspoken agreements that were never actually agreed to.
Once we named that – once we treated the system as the thing with the problem, not the people – something shifted.
We clarified decision authority. We surfaced resentments that had been doing their work underground. And the “personality problem” lost most of its grip.
The water finally had somewhere to go.
It wasn’t a gargoyle issue.
It was drainage.
This is where culture is quietly shaped.
Culture isn’t built in grand speeches. It’s built in small moments — the moment someone says “they’re just difficult” and no one asks the next question. The label that sticks. The story that hardens. The person who gets written off before anyone examines what the system asked of them.
So what can leaders do?
First, replace labels with specificity.
When you hear “resistant” or “difficult,” ask: What specifically is happening? When does it show up? What’s the pattern?
Second, look for function.
What is this behavior trying to protect? Even the most frustrating behaviors are usually doing something useful for the system.
Third, separate structure from story.
Before diagnosing attitude, examine architecture. Are decision rights clear? Are priorities aligned? Are incentives competing? I’ve watched “culture problems” dissolve the moment someone drew an org chart that actually reflected how decisions were made.
And finally, slow the moment down.
You don’t need a full-day retreat. Sometimes it’s a 30-second pause:
“Let’s unpack that.”
“What do we actually mean by that?”
“Are we all talking about the same thing?”
That pause is where the real work happens.
Distinction creates clarity.
Clarity creates connection.
Connection shapes culture.
Not every stone creature is a gargoyle. And not every team tension is what we first call it.
The leaders who shape strong cultures are the ones willing to look twice – and name things well.
And yes… sometimes that insight comes from looking up at old buildings.
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