A few months back, I wrote a post here titled "Middle Leaders Are the Engine Room of Your Strategy (But They're Running on Fumes)." It resonated because it named a quiet truth: strategy often lands hardest on the people expected to implement it, but who are given the least say in shaping it.

This follow-up picks up where that post left off, asking: what happens when strategy itself becomes the problem? What if the very thing meant to guide and energise staff is, instead, exhausting them?

There’s a moment in every strategy meeting when someone—usually well-meaning, usually exhausted—says something like: "This all sounds great, but where are we going to find the time?" Cue the awkward silence. Not because anyone disagrees, but because everyone knows they’re right.

For many schools, strategy has morphed into a burden dressed as vision. It arrives looking as polished as the consultant who delivered it—impressive at first glance, but heavy with obligation. Instead of igniting momentum, it quietly drains energy and dilutes focus.

But what if that’s not what strategy is meant to be at all?

The Cluttered Plan

Most schools don’t suffer from a lack of strategy. They suffer from too much of it. Or more precisely, too many things are labelled as strategy when they’re really just tasks with ambition.

Instead of choosing a few high-leverage priorities, we pile everything in: student wellbeing, literacy, numeracy, culture, compliance, AI readiness, staff development, parent engagement, sustainability—all good things. All worthy things. But the more we add, the less focus we have.

And so, what should feel like a clear direction starts to feel like a burdensome to-do list. That’s not strategy. That’s a lack of it.

Strategy Should Simplify

Great strategy doesn’t make more happen. It makes less happen—deliberately.

It says: "Of all the things we could do, here are the few that matter most. And here are the many we won’t do—yet or ever."

This is counterintuitive, especially in schools where saying "no" can feel like neglect. But strategy is the discipline of saying yes to what matters most and no to what distracts, duplicates, or dilutes.

If your plan is growing each year, it’s not strategy—it’s strategic creep.

Strategy as Shared Ownership

Another reason strategy feels heavy is because it too often lives in the principal’s office—or worse, inside the principal’s head.

When strategy is owned by one, it burdens everyone. But when it’s shared across the many, it gains energy, adaptability, and staying power.

That means:

• Middle leaders are seen as strategy translators, not just task-takers
• Staff understand not just what they’re doing, but why
• Teams stop asking, "What do they want now?" and start saying, "Here’s how we’ll contribute."

A shared strategy can be explained, argued for, and advanced without needing a leadership title.

The Engine-Room of Execution

Execution is where most strategies stall. Not because the ideas are bad, but because no one knows if it's working until it's too late.

Enter lead and lag measures.

• Lag measures are the outcomes you want: results, scores, satisfaction, retention.
• Lead measures are the behaviours you can influence now that make those outcomes more likely.

Consider this:

• Lag: No Year 12 student in the Maths faculty has a study score below 25.0
• Leads might include:
  • % of students completing timed practice papers every fortnight
  • Number of 1:1 support sessions for students scoring below 60%
  • Frequency of moderation meetings across the faculty
  • Lesson observations focused on feedback quality

These aren’t just actions—they’re intentional signals of progress. They transform strategy from a noun into a verb.

A good strategic plan doesn’t need 27 initiatives. It requires a primary goal that's supported by one well-crafted lag measure and two to three lead measures, with a rhythm of tracking to keep the team accountable. 

Strategic Oversight Without the To-Do List

Leaders often feel pressure to convert strategy into action as quickly as possible. But action without clarity is just activity—and activity, especially when it piles up, can kill momentum. Instead, strategic leadership is about maintaining oversight without defaulting to overwork.

Enter the 5/90/5 rule, borrowed from business thinking and sharpened by Gordon Ramsay (of all people):

• Spend 5% of your time setting clear goals and direction
• 90% of your time stepping back and allowing your team members to demonstrate their skills and expertise
• And the final 5% optimising and refining what works

Most schools flip this on its head: we spend too much time analysing, documenting, and tweaking, and not enough time doing. Or worse—we fill the 90% with disconnected activity under the banner of "strategy."

True strategic oversight means leaders:

• Focus on the vital few priorities
• Align their teams around shared lead measures
• Hold the line when new demands threaten clarity

Strategic discipline is about focus with follow-through. It’s not about reacting to every request, running every initiative, or filling every calendar slot. It’s about enabling your people to act with purpose—without needing permission for every move.

One Slide, One Sentence, One Direction

Try this test: Can you explain your strategy on one slide? Even better—can every middle leader explain it in one sentence?

If not, it’s probably not being executed. It’s being admired from a distance.

Strategy should be the liberator of work, not its masquerade. When done well, it brings clarity, not clutter. It empowers, not burdens. It helps every person in the school—from the principal to the casual teacher—to know what they’re a part of and why it matters.

If strategy is just a nicer word for more work, it’s time to change the definition.