Plop Plop Fizz Fizz

"Oh what a relief it is." That 1970's Alka Seltzer jingle echoed in my mind recently, a memory triggered by the Ontario government's announcement: the tuition freeze is over, and extra funding is finally coming to the province's desperately strained higher education system. A collective sigh of relief seemed to ripple through the sector. Skepticism and criticism remain, of course, but the overriding emotion was palpable—relief. Though my work is now only on the fringes of academia, I understood the feeling. Yet, for me, it wasn't relief. I sensed a pressure drop, a shift in tension, but not the deep, calming exhale of a problem solved. Like Alka Seltzer, this funding addresses the agonizing symptoms—the indigestion and heartburn—but offers no sustainable cure for the underlying disease.

This isn't just about the state of Ontario's colleges and universities. Their struggle provides a powerful backdrop for a broader lesson on leadership, a masterclass on navigating the treacherous path from crisis to recovery to, eventually, sustainability. We often hear that adversity forges great leaders, that it's essential for character. That’s the survivor's narrative, a perspective I appreciate. But do I want my staff, my organization, my community, or my children to face adversity? No. I know they will, and I hope they have the inner strength to meet it, remaining anchored to the values that define them. Adversity doesn't create a leader; it strips away the veneers and reveals the true capacity of an individual and an organization. The ability to weather the storm successfully is built on the skills and values that were already strong before the first wave hit. An organization with a robust, collective leadership capacity is far more likely to emerge from a crisis less damaged, stronger, and more connected than one that was weak to begin with.

The second critical factor in surviving a crisis is support. As a parent, my instinct is to shield my kids, to rush in, absorb the pain, and solve the problem. The struggle is finding the right level of support—sometimes immediate and overwhelming, sometimes delayed, sometimes none at all. Organizational leaders face the exact same dilemma: Do we intervene? When, and how much? On a strategic level, organizations often freeze when faced with sustained adversity. The same hesitation plagues individual leaders. We fear making the wrong call, feel compelled to gather every last piece of data, or simply want to stop the pain. Great leaders, however, don't ignore the pain; they acknowledge it, they strive to deal with the source not just the feeling. They make decisive moves and, most importantly, they adjust those decisions as the situation evolves. The single most crucial thing a great leader does in a sustained crisis is dedicate significant time and energy to planning and preparing for recovery at all levels in the organization. A crisis is a ravenous magnet for focus, resources, and emotion. But without an early vision of what recovery looks and feels like, the crisis response itself will only delay and complicate the eventual transition. The mark of a truly effective leader is the ability to hold both the immediate, painful present and the hopeful, future recovery in their mind simultaneously. To assess your own leadership during hardship, look at your behaviour: Are you focused on self-soothing or reducing your own emotional strain? Are you compromising the organization's core values to respond to the crisis? If so, your capacity to lead through the storm is already compromised and ineffective.

Great leaders emerge from adversity stronger. They absorb the emotional burden of others while relentlessly setting the tone for the future. They are courageous—making difficult, unpopular decisions with integrity, honesty, and transparency. They validate the current pain while communicating a realistic, forward-looking vision to their employees, customers, and community. When relief finally arrives—be it internal change, external support, or a combination—leadership behaviours must pivot. Otherwise, the relief is just a fleeting mask, not a path to a sustainable future. Great leaders are clear-eyed about whether the relief is a temporary patch or a structural fix, and they know that relief is merely an opportunity or a catalyst for a new beginning, not a simple return to the way things were. I remember moments when my team got crisis relief; for me, the pressure didn’t drop—it intensified. During the crisis, it was easy to deflect blame to external forces—factors out of my control. This rationalization was a necessary coping mechanism that allowed me to function and lead through the stress. But that rationalization is only useful if it's paired with an absolute commitment to building a better future and preventing a recurrence. Otherwise, it becomes a comfortable set of blinders, preventing the organization from confronting reality and motivating the sustained actions needed for transformation.

When relief came, I felt the pressure rise because I was now solely accountable for the recovery. While not alone, I knew I had to act as the accountable leader, radiating the confidence needed for my team to persist and innovate. In my experience, this recovery phase is far harder than the crisis itself. Crisis offers limited, high-stakes choices for strong leaders. Recovery, however, presents a near-limitless landscape of choices, requiring progress on multiple fronts with people, the organization, and the community. This demands a massive collective leadership capacity. Relief can quickly become a dangerous comfort, lulling leaders into viewing the adversity as a one-off anomaly and returning to obsolete practices. I recall a friend telling me about a young man in crisis who'd just received relief. His choice was to return to school or not. Returning meant an uncertain, terrifying path, but one he knew was better long-term. Not returning meant a near-certain relapse into the familiar adversity he'd just survived, but that path was known. He chose the known, harmful path. This illustrates a universal truth: for many, a known harmful situation feels safer than the risks of an unknown, better future. Organizations in recovery face the same dilemma, often choosing the familiar. This is why the leadership skills needed in recovery are exponentially greater than those in a crisis. A leader must not only navigate uncertainty but must also convince others that the uncertain future is definitively better than the certainty of the past.

We seem to live in an era of perpetual crisis—in our organizations, our communities, and our governments. The absence of strong crisis leadership will only lengthen and deepen the hardship, delaying the arrival of necessary relief and support. Strong leadership during the crisis, conversely, prepares staff for recovery and requires less external aid to turn the page. When recovery begins, great leaders elevate their game to meet the new, higher demands. The spotlight of the crisis may dim, but great leaders actually increase their transparency and authenticity to meet the needs of an uncertain but hopeful future.

The Ontario post-secondary system has received its relief. The true test is now before its leaders at all levels: Do they have the capacity to recover and build a new, sustainable future? We will see their answer soon. The first true indication of whether they choose the certainty of the past or the adventure of a better future will be visible in the new budgets currently moving through the governance approval stages at every institution in the Province.