Strategy Is What You’re Willing to Burn
If you can’t walk away from something, you’re not choosing. You’re clinging.

If you can’t walk away from something, you’re not choosing. You’re clinging.

The real work of strategy begins where comfort ends. Clarity demands decisions that feel costly. You can’t create focus without choosing what to release, and most organizations avoid that choice until it’s too late.
In nearly every client situation I approach, ambition is rarely the problem. Excess is. Too many initiatives, priorities, and promises that can’t all win. When everything is important, nothing truly is.
I’ve seen leadership teams protect programs that no longer create value, campaigns that drain resources, and ideas that survive only because someone’s ego is attached to them. The unwillingness to burn is what keeps them average.
At its core, strategy is identity under pressure. It’s the discipline of knowing who you are when everything else competes for your attention. What you’re willing to burn says more about your organization than any vision statement ever will.
I once worked with a professional services firm that wanted to be known for innovation, yet refused to retire an outdated suite of offerings because “some clients still ask for it.” That hesitation cost them momentum and market distinction. When they finally let it go, everything sharpened. The brand caught up with the truth.
Simplification sounds easy until it costs you something familiar. But that’s what courage in strategy looks like. You don’t cut because you dislike complexity. You cut because focus is expensive and attention is finite.
One of my clients in healthcare learned this firsthand. They were spreading their marketing across six verticals, all competing for budget and time. We narrowed it to two. Within six months, both grew faster than all six combined. Simplification created force.
Focus isn’t minimalism. It’s prioritization. The work of burning is the work of alignment.
Every system has inertia. Without deliberate pruning, noise fills the gaps where clarity should live. The same is true for people. The more I’ve grown as a strategist, the more I’ve learned that progress depends less on what I add and more on what I’m willing to release.
Strategy isn’t a plan. It’s a series of choices that accumulate into identity. It’s the habit of asking, “Does this move us toward who we say we are?” and having the guts to act when the answer is no.
Letting go is renewal, not destruction. The burning is what clears the ground for signal to grow.
If you never stop, you never evolve. If you never choose, you never lead. The strength of your strategy will always match the strength of what you’re willing to burn.