A Plan Is Not a Strategy

In June 2022, Roger Martin dropped a slight but seismic provocation: a plan is not a strategy. For schools that can produce 40-page strategic plans with the ease of a photocopier jam, it’s a confronting thought. But helpful. And timely.

Most schools have a plan. Few have a strategy.

One keeps you busy.

The other helps you win.

What strategy actually is

Peter Compo, in The Emergent Approach to Strategy, famously collected seventy-five definitions of strategy from the world’s leading thinkers. The astonishing part? Their definitions diverged wildly. Rather than signalling confusion, Compo argues this variation reveals the messy, adaptive, evolving nature of strategy itself.

Strategy isn’t a tidy formula. It is a discipline shaped by perspective, context, and choice. That’s why schools so often feel uncertain when trying to “get strategy right”. The field’s experts can’t even agree on one definition, and that’s precisely the point. Strategy is emergent, not pre-packaged.

Strategy is an integrative set of choices that positions you on a playing field of your choice in a way that you win.

Not in a competitive chest-beating sense. Win, meaning clarity of direction. Distinctiveness. Coherence. Advantage.

Because without a coherent set of choices, you’re just making noise with a to-do list.

To illustrate this, consider a recent example.

Most of my Uber trips over the years have been in the standard Camry: reliable, familiar, completely unremarkable. You can almost predict the entire experience: slow merge into traffic, identical fuel costs, identical constraints, identical margins. Nothing about it signals strategy.

Then one evening, a Tesla rolled up to collect me.

Within minutes, I realised this driver wasn’t just offering a ride. He’d made a strategic choice.

At every set of lights, he deliberately positioned himself at the front of the queue, even if it meant momentarily pulling into a lane that had parked cars just beyond the intersection. As soon as the light turned green, he surged ahead with instant torque, slipping past the congestion that trapped every other vehicle. Our travel time shrank. His efficiency skyrocketed.

He told me his operating costs had collapsed. No fuel bills. Far lower servicing. Tax benefits on the vehicle. More extended range than he'd ever expected. He wasn’t competing with the Camrys anymore. He’d chosen his playing field.

That was strategy in motion. Traditional Uber drivers — I can’t believe I’m writing that in a sentence already — compete with every other car on the road for position. They pay high fuel costs. Their margins stagnate.

One driver picks us up in a Tesla. Suddenly, everything changes.

He positions himself at the front of every traffic light because he knows his acceleration outruns nearly everything around him. He consistently avoids congestion. He cuts travel time. His operating costs? A fraction of the Camry cohort.

He made a set of integrative choices: lower costs, traffic advantage, tax benefits, and extended range. That’s strategy.

Why this matters for schools

Schools continue to try to win in red oceans. They compete on the same terrain as everyone else: facilities, programs, marketing tropes, staff PD cycles, “innovation weeks”, and well-being initiatives. All good things. But rarely strategic.

Blue Ocean Strategy forces leaders to pick a playing field where they can actually win. However, before proceeding, it’s worth noting the strategic reality for private schools: enrolment sits at the heart of long-term viability, not in a commercial, shareholder‑profit sense, but in a reinvestment sense. Strong enrolments fund better programs, staff capabilities, facilities, and opportunities for students.

Strategy isn’t about ignoring enrolments. It’s about making deliberate positioning, value, and capability choices that drive enrolments sustainably rather than chasing them reactively. More importantly, it helps them choose a playing field where their DNA can come to the fore, the distinct strengths, values, and ways of working that no competitor can easily copy.

It demands integrative choices.

Strategy first. Planning later.

Planning is execution. Not a strategy.

Martin’s breakdown of Southwest Airlines is a perfect case study.

Their strategic choices:

Become the substitute for Greyhound coaches. A faster, still‑affordable option.
Fly point‑to‑point instead of hub‑and‑spoke.
Operate one aircraft type to reduce complexity.
Skip meal service to keep costs low.
Only offer online booking to eliminate agent fees.

These are integrative choices. Each reinforces the others.

Their actions flowed naturally:

Buy 737s and phase out everything else.
Build an online booking system.
End catering agreements.
Stock replacement parts where needed.

Now imagine if they started with actions.

“Let’s refresh our marketing.” “Let’s diversify our fleet.” “Let’s improve catering.”

All outstanding initiatives. And completely directionless without a strategy. They help you play. Not win.

Why schools default to plans

Because plans feel safe, they look responsible. They demonstrate activity. They give every team something to take ownership of. Pillars are especially seductive this way. They divide the world into neat themes.

But strategic pillars often trap schools in silos. They keep teams comfortable instead of responsive. They encourage maintenance, not movement. And worst of all, they create the illusion of strategy.