When the Gathering Stops, Culture Changes
This past Friday, I ran into an old colleague at an event. We had both held leadership roles in a large healthcare system years ago, and within minutes we were reminiscing about the people we worked with, the leaders we admired, and the moments that shaped us. Before long, we found ourselves talking about the Friday morning finance meeting.
Anyone who was there remembers it.
At the time, the two most senior finance executives in the organization were widely respected. They were tough but fair, held high expectations, and believed deeply in building a strong culture within their finance organization. One of the ways they did this was by convening a weekly Friday morning meeting.
It was not a typical meeting. People arrived early to grab their favorite bagel or pastry. Some sat in their usual seat, others drifted to a different chair. There was always chatter, both personal and professional, and usually about forty people filled the room. There was no formal agenda, though there were informal updates and shared context. It was a way for senior leaders to stay connected to their team, to align people around the work, and to create a sense of cohesion.
Over time, something more formed. We became a band of colleagues, a professional tribe built on shared work, shared pressure, and shared trust. The social atmosphere and exchange of ideas created real relationships. It was common to grab five minutes before or after the meeting to get input, test a thought, or gain support. If you had a tough situation, you knew who you could call. I looked forward to those Friday mornings and blocked them on my calendar. We were proud of the work we did, both individually and collectively.
As often happens, the two senior executives eventually left the organization. A new senior executive ended the meetings. The reason given was to give people “time to get work done.” I remember thinking, we are getting work done. We just happen to be doing it together.
After the meeting stopped, things quietly changed. Work became harder as internal and external pressures increased, but we no longer had a place to gather, to make sense of challenges, or to support one another. People retreated into their silos, not out of indifference, but because the structure that connected us was gone.
Eventually, I left the organization. There were many reasons, but one of them was this: I no longer felt part of something bigger. I felt isolated.
I share this story because those two executives created a culture that functioned as a life raft. We all fit in it, and we were all rowing in the same direction. They understood something many leaders miss: that culture lives in the small, repeated moments where people connect, exchange, and belong.
So I leave you with this question: what kind of leader are you?
Are you creating spaces where people gather, connect, and build trust? What meetings, traditions, or shared moments in your organization create meaning, and which ones have been removed in the name of efficiency without understanding their impact?
Culture does not live in mission statements or org charts. It lives in how people experience one another, week after week. And as a leader, that is your responsibility to notice, protect, and intentionally shape.
Because people do not just want work to do. They want to belong. And when they do, the work gets done, better and together.