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Correspondent

23 August 2024 at 4:29:04 pm

Street Circus

The NEET-UG paper leak was a genuine grievance. Millions of students who spent years preparing for one of India’s toughest examinations deserved answers, accountability and justice. But what unfolded at Jantar Mantar was no movement for educational reform. It was a spectacle of rage, abuse and performative rebellion that often appeared more interested in viral clips than viable solutions. The Cockroach Janta Party (CJP), which claimed to represent the anger of students, ended up exposing...

Street Circus

The NEET-UG paper leak was a genuine grievance. Millions of students who spent years preparing for one of India’s toughest examinations deserved answers, accountability and justice. But what unfolded at Jantar Mantar was no movement for educational reform. It was a spectacle of rage, abuse and performative rebellion that often appeared more interested in viral clips than viable solutions. The Cockroach Janta Party (CJP), which claimed to represent the anger of students, ended up exposing itself, revealing itself to promote a culture of outrage without responsibility and more troubling, have aspersions cast on its funding sources. Besides the fact that just how many of those gathered were afflicted NEET students, the ugliest part of the protest was the language. Videos from Jantar Mantar showed protesters hurling the most obscene and personal abuses at Prime Minister Narendra Modi. One can dislike the PM or oppose his policies, reducing political disagreement to filthy personal abuse against an elected Prime Minister is gross cowardice and at the basic level, a sheer failure of basic civic etiquette. No entity cannot claim to be fighting for the dignity of students while abandoning all standards of dignity in public discourse. The irony was impossible to miss. A section of this self-proclaimed progressive generation speaks constantly about equality, feminism, tolerance and justice. Yet the very same voices displayed extraordinary intolerance towards anyone they decided was an enemy. Journalists were targeted, political opponents were dehumanised and anyone carrying a different opinion was casually branded with labels designed to silence rather than debate. Social media has created a dangerous illusion among many young activists that a viral video is a victory, and that shouting louder is the same as achieving something. A few Instagram reels, borrowed revolutionary imagery and slogans can create the appearance of rebellion. But governing a country and reforming institutions and fixing broken systems require far more than theatrical anger. The government, however, cannot escape responsibility either. The crisis was allowed to grow because of delayed communication and inadequate political management. A prompt response, transparent investigation and early intervention could have prevented a limited controversy from becoming a national embarrassment. Instead, the government was forced into damage control, and Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan, a capable minister, became the political casualty. For the citizens, it was a colossal waste of time. After weeks of noise, confrontation and disruption, the students gained little. The examination system remains under scrutiny and larger problems remain unresolved. The only visible outcome is the removal of a minister. A protest that begins with a genuine grievance but ends as a contest of abuse and attention-seeking has not strengthened democracy. It has weakened the very standards it claims to defend.

Ownership or Just Queuing?

In the 2nd part of our ‘Let Go to Grow’ series, we explore how founders stall teams—not just by blocking autonomy but by creating a culture of invisible waiting.

A few months ago, I met a founder who said, half-jokingly, “I could leave for a week if I wanted to come back to a fire.”


Revenue was up, and clients were happy, but everything still needed her: approvals, nudges, celebrations, and corrections. Even after hiring senior managers, she was the backup plan for everything.


It did not look broken; it just looked busy, but it wasn’t ownership; it was queuing.


The Quiet Cost of Founder Proximity

In some teams, the founder is not a leader. They are the search bar, the spell check, and the emergency escalation path. While the team is not lazy or incapable, they are only optimised for the founder’s presence. And when you are always present - in Slack, on calls, in the wings - the team unconsciously starts deferring, just a little.


"Let me check with her." "He’ll want to review this." "Better wait before sending."


It looks like alignment; however, it is actually a slowdown loop.


Designed to Wait

At PPS, we call this the Queue Effect: when teams look productive, but no one moves until the founder signals. It is not dysfunction; it is by design.


If your systems do not have built-in check-ins, role clarity, and decision rules, people default to what is safe: waiting.


One founder we worked with ran a multi-location services business. Her team had tools, dashboards, and even a weekly ops huddle. But nothing moved until she reviewed it herself.


We did not add more meetings; we added rhythm:

• Mid-week check-ins where managers reviewed and resolved without her

• Clear escalation slots (not 11 PM WhatsApp dumps)

• Owner-tagged workflows that made the action visible


Within two weeks, decision lag dropped, and so did her weekend stress.

Everyone’s Busy, Yet No One’s Moving.


Founders often confuse busyness with motion. People on calls, Slack threads flying, deadlines on Notion.


But when escalation logic is fuzzy and SOPs live in someone’s head, teams start building habits around the founder. And like any queue, the longer it gets, the slower the system feels. The danger is not chaos but an invisible inertia.


Rahul wrote last week about override loops - how even one exception tells the team that the system is not final. Over time, those exceptions become expected. That is how queues form: not from poor tools, but from conditioned ambiguity.


It is a bit like a flickering traffic signal. When the light’s unclear, everyone slows down - even when they know the rules. Someone eventually steps in to wave people through. In most companies, that someone is the founder.


And unlike a traffic cop, you don’t even get the whistle - just three new Slack pings and a mystery calendar invite titled “Quick Sync?”. At least traffic cops get a vest and a bit of respect.


And it compounds every time a founder says, "Loop me in just in case."


We’ve seen this in businesses with the best tools and intentions. One SaaS founder told us, “We have Asana, Slack, and SOPs. But I still feel like a router - everything gets pinged through me.”


The team was not unskilled. They had simply learnt, over time, that no decision moved without his pulse check. It is a pattern we call structural dependency - when the founder’s silence stalls motion more than a missing process ever could.


If your team waits for you before moving, you have not built a team. You have built a queue.


Here is what helps break the queue loop:

• Document key roles and responsibilities so ownership is visible, not implied.

• Set decision windows that do not depend on the founder's presence.

• Define what “done” looks like for recurring tasks - so no one waits for a green light.

• Create standing check-ins where issues surface and are resolved without escalation.


Autonomy is not gifted; it is engineered.

Next week, Rahul digs deeper into delegation. What if you did not actually delegate? What if you just deferred responsibility - with your name still in the loop?


(The author is Co-founder at PPS Consulting and a business operations advisor. She helps businesses across sectors and geographies improve execution through global best practices. She could be reached at rashmi@ppsconsulting.biz)

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