Vroom vroom. Brrrrrrrraaaahhh.
These are the noises my wife puts up with when she finds me watching an F1 race by myself at some ungodly hour of the day.
I'm an F1 fan. This is a relatively new love of mine. I discovered the sport like many people during COVID, when the Netflix docuseries Drive to Survive launched and sports fans everywhere were looking for something to draw us in during the international shutdown on live sports. I instantly fell in love with the concept of very opinionated, fussy and talented drivers pushing extremely fast, nimble and temperamental cars to the absolute limit. The Bravo-reality-style behind-the-scenes drama mixed with the on-track high-speed action absolutely hit my brain in all the right dopamine-enhancing ways. I was hooked.
Fast forward to 2026, and the sport has undergone a massive rule change.
Without going into the technical details, every few years F1 makes a decision to completely rewrite the rules of the entire sport, forcing every team to redesign their car from the ground up. It's a wild process. The equivalent would be if every few years the world of soccer decided to add a few players to the field, or if the NBA raised the basketball hoop 2 feet and added a four-point line. Or if the Olympics changed the 100-meter dash to incorporate holding an egg on a spoon without dropping it as you ran. We're talking massive changes.
And whenever there's a change, you know I need to write a blog post about it.
The Emotional Arc of a Rule Change
Like any change, this always brings up massive feelings. F1 fans (as I'm learning) are nothing if not emotional. Just talk to a lifelong Ferrari fan and they'll let you know. The headlines read exactly how you'd expect:
"New F1 rule changes will ruin the sport...10 reasons why 2026 will be a disaster"
"Opportunities for new midfield teams to succeed...who will upend the sport this year"
"New engine rules are a massive change, how one team is responding..."
Sound familiar? Replace "F1" with your company and "rule changes" with your latest reorg, system migration, or strategic pivot, and you've got the same emotional landscape.
In my workshops on change, I teach a framework called the Change Curve. It maps the emotional arc that people move through when they encounter a significant change: Shock and Denial, Anger and Frustration, Confusion and Depression, Acceptance, Problem-Solving, and finally, the New Normal. Those F1 headlines? They're textbook Stages 1 through 3. The fans writing doom-and-gloom articles are sitting right in Anger and Frustration. The ones spotting opportunity are already moving toward Problem-Solving.
The thing is, your team goes through this same arc every time something significant shifts. And as a leader, your job changes at each stage. Early on, people need context and clarity ("here's why this is happening"). In the middle stages, they need emotional support ("I hear you, this is hard"). Later, they need direction and guidance ("here's how we move forward together").
Why F1 Forces the Change Anyway
What F1 knows as a sport is what most great team leaders also know. At a certain point, when things get too perfected, it's time to shake up the entire dynamic and start fresh. Teams develop stuck habits, get static in their development, and eventually performance dips as the group stops exhibiting growth patterns and instead calcifies habitual behaviors.
That's why F1 crumples up the rulebook every several years. To ignite development, improvement, and new ideas that make the racing exciting, keep the sport progressing, and the technology cutting edge. It causes a lot of heartache in fans, but that's what we show up for: to not know what's going to happen until the lights go out and the cars start racing.
In my Leading Change workshop, I use the Beckhard-Harris Change Formula to help leaders think about this:
Dissatisfaction × Vision × First Steps > Resistance
For F1, the formula is clear. The dissatisfaction was that dominant teams (looking at you, Red Bull circa 2023) were making races predictable. The vision was closer, more competitive racing. The first steps were the new engine and aero regulations. And the product of those three things has to outweigh the massive resistance from fans, teams, and sponsors who were comfortable with how things were.
For your team, the formula works the same way. If you can't clearly articulate why the current state is broken, paint a picture of where you're headed, and outline concrete first steps, the resistance will win every time.
Try This With Your Own Team
Think about a change your team is going through (or one that's coming). Ask yourself:
Where are your people on the Change Curve? Are they still in Shock and Denial, pretending the change won't affect them? Are they in Anger and Frustration, pushing back or blaming others? Are they stuck in Confusion, asking tough questions about their role? Knowing where people are tells you what kind of support they need right now.
Run the Change Formula. Can you clearly name the dissatisfaction with the current state? Can you articulate a vision that's simple, motivational, and paints a picture? Have you identified first steps that people can actually take? If any of those three elements is missing, the resistance to your change will be stronger than the motivation to pursue it.
What's your "rule change" moment? What's something on your team that might benefit from a complete rethinking, rather than incremental, step-by-step improvement? Sometimes the boldest move a leader can make is to crumple up the rulebook and start fresh.
Practice This Exercise On Your Own
(With AI as Your Coach)
I've created a free interactive tool that walks you through the Change Curve Mapping exercise and the Beckhard-Harris Change Formula using AI as your practice partner. It's the same framework I use in my workshops, adapted so you can work through your own change scenario at your own pace.