Building Without a Map: Leading Through Fog, Not Illusion

The systems are collapsing. The way forward isn’t certain. But it’s not the first time we’ve built without permission...or precedent.

People keep saying we’re in uncharted waters. But for many, this isn’t uncharted at all. They've spent decades building through scarcity, leading through contradiction, and organizing in the margins.

What’s new is who is feeling the instability. What’s new is who is starting to say the quiet part out loud: the timelines aren't making sense, the rules aren't holding, and the systems never delivered what they promised. The old map, filled with step-by-step plans, budget calendars, and neat cycles of “build-launch-evaluate,” is increasingly useless.

But we don’t have to panic. We just have to remember: many have built in this fog before.

The fog isn’t just uncertainty. It’s a manufactured blur. A swirl of mixed messages, performative urgency, and political dysfunction. And it's designed to disorient. You’re being told to move urgently and be cautious. To innovate but stay within scope. To prioritize community but meet funder deadlines that don't reflect local context.

What you're navigating isn’t a lack of planning. It’s a lack of alignment.

The fog shows up in:

  • Crisis communications that are more about optics than impact.
  • “Community engagement” that touts authenticty but are really different forms of transactional.
  • Budget cycles that dictate outcomes and impact, rather than reflect it.

In this fog, your work will be misunderstood if you try to fit it into someone else's frame. This is when discernment matters most.

Pause when you're being asked to rush. Ask: Whose timeline is this? Whose priorities are driving the urgency? Document competing narratives, and identify where your organization’s clarity diverges from institutional pressure.

We can learn from leaders and movements that have endured, especially in the Global South or under constant threat here in the U.S. They have always known how to build without a map. I’ve watched people organize from kitchens, WhatsApp threads, and unwritten agreements. They didn’t wait for strategic plans to validate their work. They moved in rhythm with community needs and moral clarity.

What carried them wasn’t perfect planning, it was deep alignment. The infrastructure was built through trust, coordination, dialogue, transparency, vulnerability, AND discipline. They didn’t rely on institutional validation. They relied on each other.

Reorient your team around the question: “What are we already doing well that’s invisible?” Create time for story circles, informal check-ins, or trust audits. These are not distractions from strategy—they are the foundation of it.

So how do we lead now?

We lead with steadiness, not certainty. We lead with strategy while building flexibility into its structure. Here are four principles that can help guide the way:

  1. Move slowly when the pace feels artificially fast. When urgency feels externally imposed, resist it. Real transformation takes time. Host a pause meeting. Rethink your next 90 days—not just your next grant report.
  2. Prioritize internal clarity over external visibility. Public-facing communications mean nothing if your internal culture is unclear. Clarify roles. Revisit agreements. Don’t post before you’re aligned.
  3. Center people who have already been building in the in-between. The fog is not new to everyone. Some of your most powerful insights will come from those who’ve navigated instability all their lives. Include them in strategic planning. Hire them into decision-making roles.
  4. Let go of linear outcomes. Some of your best work won’t fit a logic model. Let yourself track progress through momentum, not metrics alone. Create reflection tools that capture stories, pivots, and learning.

Run a “Fog Readiness” session with your team. Ask: Where do we feel clear? Where are we foggy? Who are we listening to? Who SHOULD we be listening to?

We are not lost. We’re just moving through conditions that no longer reward traditional models. And the truth is: many of those models didn't work that well in the first place!

Clarity is what you hold when you can’t hold certainty. It’s not a vision deck or a five-year plan—it’s the values, instincts, and relationships that tether you to purpose when everything else is shifting. In this era, clarity is a strategic asset.

We don’t need a map. We need a compass.

One that points toward care, courage, and community, not convention. The illusion that the old systems would carry us is gone. And what’s left in its place is something better: The chance to build what we actually need. Not from scratch. From clarity.