Hello friends,

Welcome back to Theory of Change. This is episode 7/12 of the Anti-Pattern Editions, my critical guide to shiny frameworks that make sense on a whiteboard in Mountain View, but less so if you are working in a food charity in Manchester, a newsroom in Nairobi, or a grassroots coalition in Łódź.

This week: OKRs (Objectives and Key Results).

Supposed to be: a clear, focused system for setting and tracking goals.

Too often: a bureaucratic straitjacket that confuses ambition with overreach, alignment with compliance, and learning with surveillance.

Let’s get into it.

⭐️ OKRs ⭐️

What they're supposed to be

OKRs have become Silicon Valley’s gold standard for measuring progress (though their origin story actually goes way back to Intel in the 1970s).

You set a bold Objective (e.g. “become the number one search engine in the world”), then a handful of measurable Key Results (e.g. “grow daily queries from 10k to 100k”).

Teams cascade their own OKRs from the top-level ones, check in quarterly, and give themselves scores. The promise: focus, alignment, ambition.

It has worked well for Google and other firms where outcomes are (relatively) measurable, resources are vast, and stretch goals are part of the performance culture.

I was a full-on proponent of OKRs, and still am in many ways. But, over the decades working in mission-driven work, I’ve learned a few things about how not to turn this medicine into poison.

Where they fall apart

1. The cult of the stretch goal.

OKRs celebrate ambition beyond reach, and laud the idea that you should only hit about 70% of your key results. Fine if you’ve got stock options and free sushi. Less fine if you’re running on grants, volunteers, or chronic underfunding. In nonprofits and community movements, this logic fuels guilt, burnout, and the quiet sense of always, always being behind.

2. Alignment as compliance.

The theory says OKRs should cascade: the board sets theirs, leadership sets theirs, teams set theirs. In practice, the direction of travel however is 100% top-down. What’s presented as “alignment” often feels like “here’s what you’ll be judged on, whether or not you shaped it. Make your numbers fit.” (I’ve been totally guilty of this one as a goal-setter).

3. Invisible labour gets erased.

OKRs privilege what’s countable: numbers served, events run, funds raised. (We talked about this in #043 with Values-Based Impact).

But the fuzzy, intangible, emotional and political work that makes those possible rarely fits in a key result. Which means the recognition of this invisible work (plus the people who enable it) quietly disappear from the organisation, even though they are mission-critical.

A better way to think about it

OKRs offer clarity, focus, and a shared language. There’s something in my brain that loves the majesty of a Miro board replete with cascading strategic objectives and plunge pools full of KPIs. I'm weird like that.

But for purpose-led work, sometimes we need a more real, less picturesque scene. It just has to be... well, a bit grittier. A bit more human.

Here’s how I’ve seen it done well:

• With goals that are challenging and realistic (tbf in 2025, merely staying in the work long enough to matter is the real goal).

• When goals, instead of cascading down, are co-designed in proper, actual dialogue with staff, volunteers, and community partners. Not only should the objectives be published, but also the trade-offs behind them (“We’re doing this, which means we can’t do this”).

• When space is created for what I think of as relational key results: e.g. “conflict within the coalition was resolved without escalation,” or “three listening sessions with residents strengthened trust.” If you don’t name this work, you risk devaluing it.

• When OKRs are used as conversation starters, not enders. Basically OKRs just need to check whether you're all heading in the same direction. Encourage teams to adapt, drop, or reframe OKRs mid-cycle if reality shifts. And treat that as learning, not failure, dear friends.

Try it this week

If OKRs (or their cousins: KPIs, scorecards, dashboards) are part of your world (and in case I wasn’t clear: I do think they should be), here are small experiments to reclaim them:

1. Reframe one stretch goal as a sustaining goal. Take a current target and ask whether there's a version that still feels ambitious, but is also manageable for your team.

2. Add one invisible key result. Pick a piece of relational or emotional labour that’s vital but unseen and write it into your OKRs.

3. Run an alignment check. Ask your team if they really believe in what’s been set. My coaching clients hear me say “mine for conflict” all the time. Here’s a great place to put that idea into practice.

4. Schedule a mid-cycle review. Instead of waiting until December when everyone is bloody exhausted and thinking about Lindt chocolate santas (not a sponsor; probably should be), build in a checkpoint where it’s legitimate to drop or adapt an OKR.

And, if you’d like to dive deeper, try Feminist Approaches to Monitoring, Evaluation & Learning, or a Guide to Power-Shifting Approaches in Philanthropy.

🌊 WAVE GOODBYE 🌊

All these anti-pattern editions aren’t really about bashing OKRs and the like. They’re about how we handle ambition when resources are thin. Silicon Valley glorifies stretch goals. But of course in purpose-driven work, we’re already stretched.

So the real bravery and ambition comes from setting goals that are sustainable, co-owned, and attentive to the invisible work that holds everything together.

And that goes for your personal goals too. 

I’m not feeling it this week. Bit ill; somewhat exhausted; solo-parenting; got a few uncomfortable things going on in the background.

So, I’m trying to dial it back, and not feel guilty about it. Published a video about multipassionate entrepreneurship; wrote a newsletter. That’s enough, right?

Take care,

Adam

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