Knowing When to Step Back Is Also Work

In one of my earlier jobs, we often discussed the difference between activity and progress. The point was simple: it’s not about how much you do, but what moves the needle. Managers would remind us that activity is not progress. In many fields, that logic holds true. But over the years, I’ve learned that policy work operates differently. In our world, the distinction is not so binary. Sometimes, what looks like activity without progress is actually what sustains the policy ecosystem until the moment is right.

Those who’ve spent time in this field know that policy rarely moves in straight lines. A well-drafted memo can sit idle for months until a change in leadership suddenly revives it. A quiet conversation at the right time can open a door that dozens of formal meetings couldn’t. This is not inefficiency; it’s how institutional absorption works. Policy change has its own rhythm.

And this is why the art of stepping back is so important. There are moments when our job is not to push harder, but to let the ecosystem catch up. I’ve seen colleagues grow frustrated when their advocacy hits a wall, even when the evidence is sound. But often, the system is simply not ready. Stakeholders need time to adjust, priorities need to align, and sometimes, resistance itself is a sign that your idea is ahead of its time.

We, as policy professionals, are wired for movement. We like activity because it signals control. We like to show traction - meetings done, notes submitted, consultations held. But there is a quiet truth here: policy outcomes often depend on what happens between these activities. The calibration, the waiting, the internal reflection of institutions - those are not visible, yet they are crucial for real progress.

So when a manager says, “I want to see progress, not activity,” I understand where that comes from. But in policy, I’d argue that certain kinds of activity are progress. They build relational capital, they signal persistence, and they keep ideas alive in the system. If we stopped doing them simply because they didn’t yield immediate results, we’d lose the texture of how real change happens in government.

In policy, progress is rarely dramatic. It is incremental, negotiated, and deeply contextual. You learn to appreciate the pauses - the periods when a policy idea is being processed within institutions, reinterpreted by departments, or re-evaluated by leadership. Those pauses are not failures. They are signs that the policy is evolving.

And that is where the maturity of a policy professional shows. The ability to read the tempo of a situation, to sense when to lean in and when to hold back, to distinguish between strategic activity and unproductive motion - that is what separates good practitioners from great ones.

With experience, you begin to see that restraint is not a lack of ambition. It’s a form of strategic patience. It’s trusting that your groundwork will eventually align with the system’s readiness. It’s understanding that progress, in our line of work, is not always visible on dashboards. Sometimes, it’s embedded in the institutional memory you help create.

The real art lies in knowing when to stop pushing and start listening, when to give the policy space to evolve on its own terms. Because in this field, stepping back does not mean stepping away. It means giving your idea the room it needs to become part of the larger fabric of governance. And that, I’ve learned, is also policy work.

(The opinions expressed in this article are solely my own and do not reflect the views of my employer or any affiliated organization.)

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