It was the first day of a fall backpacking trip, and my Boy Scouts were eager to make good time on the trail. The map showed a winding path that skirted a hill and rejoined the ridge further on. But just past the trailhead, someone spotted a dirt shortcut—a narrow track that cut straight up the slope. “This way is faster,” one of the boys shouted as he scrambled ahead. The others followed. At first, the shortcut seemed like a good idea. It shaved off distance. But within minutes the group was struggling up loose soil, tripping on exposed roots, and spreading out as the stronger hikers pulled ahead. The shortcut reconnected to the main trail eventually, but by then the crew was tired, scraped up, and more than a little frustrated.
That moment stuck with me because organizations do the same thing. Every time someone repeats a task, they create a trail. Sometimes it’s official, like the well-marked route on a map. Other times it’s improvised, like the dirt shortcut carved by hikers who think they’ve found a quicker way. The question isn’t whether processes exist – they always do. The real question is whether you’re leading people down a paved trail or letting them stumble along a dirt path.
When we think about processes, there are three complementary goals that need to be considered:
- Effectiveness
- Efficiency
- Risk Mitigation
Effectiveness: Maps That Get You There
When we talk about effectiveness in process design, what we really mean is this: can the process consistently deliver the right result? Effectiveness is about predictability and reliability. Back on that trip, the official trail wasn’t always the shortest route, but it was effective. It got the crew from point A to point B. It had markers and switchbacks designed to keep the group together and to prevent erosion. The shortcut, in contrast, was unreliable. It worked for a few strong hikers, but not for the group as a whole.
Effectiveness in organizations works the same way. A good process is like a good map. It doesn’t dictate every step so rigidly that people can’t adapt when a tree falls across the trail, but it provides enough clarity that everyone knows the destination and how to get there. Without that clarity, employees create their own “social trails”—workarounds and shortcuts that may solve their immediate problem but don’t always serve the bigger mission. The real art of effectiveness is knowing where consistency is essential and where flexibility is acceptable. Scouts can take slightly different routes around a fallen log, but they all need to end up back on the main trail. In business, you might tolerate variation in how people brainstorm ideas but insist on consistency in how contracts are approved.
Efficiency: Carrying Only What You Need
If effectiveness is about getting to the right destination, efficiency is about getting there with the least waste of time, energy, or resources. Any backpacker knows the pain of inefficiency. Ounces turn into pounds, and pounds turn into pain. On one trek, a Scout brought three heavy flashlights “just in case.” He thought he was being prepared, but by the second day he was struggling under the extra weight. The group ended up redistributing his load so he could keep pace.
That’s what inefficiency looks like in organizations: well-intentioned steps that slow the whole group down. Sometimes it’s duplicated approvals. Sometimes it’s rework because requirements weren’t clear. And sometimes it’s people optimizing their own comfort at the expense of the larger team—like the Scout who stuffs all the snacks in his own pocket instead of sharing them in camp. True efficiency serves the mission, not just the moment. It’s about packing smart, distributing weight fairly, and setting up camp in a way that works for everyone. In business, that means designing processes that save time across the system, not just for one department. The shortcut that saves five minutes for one person but creates an hour of cleanup for someone else isn’t efficient at all.
Risk Mitigation: Preparing for the Weather
Of the three goals, risk mitigation is often the most overlooked—but anyone who’s been caught unprepared in the wilderness knows how important it is. I’ve seen crews ignore the forecast because the sky was blue at the trailhead. Hours later, they were scrambling in the rain with soaked gear and frayed tempers. Risk mitigation in backpacking means carrying the rain jacket, packing the first aid kit, and making sure someone knows where you’re headed. It slows you down a little at the start, but it saves you from catastrophe later.
Organizations face the same choice. Many wait until after an audit issue or a public failure before bolting on controls. That’s like wishing you had packed the poncho after you’re already wet. Risk mitigation doesn’t eliminate danger, but it reduces the likelihood and impact of harm—whether financial, operational, reputational, or safety-related. And just as every Scout knows to keep a headlamp in their pack even if they plan to reach camp before dark, organizations should build in basic safeguards even when they don’t expect trouble.
Explaining the “Why”
One of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned from Scouting is that rules stick better when you explain the why. Telling Scouts to hang their food in a bear bag can sound like an arbitrary hassle. But explaining that failing to do so could attract a bear into camp—and endanger everyone—turns a chore into a shared responsibility.
Organizations are no different. Too often, processes are handed down as sterile checklists with no explanation. When people don’t understand why a step matters, they ignore it or find workarounds. But when they see how the step contributes to effectiveness, efficiency, or risk mitigation, they take ownership. The process becomes part of the mission, not just another box to check.
Don’t forget Simon Sinek’s observation that “People don’t buy what you do; they buy why you do it.” Organizations need to explain the why behind their processes to ensure their employees understand the reasoning behind their processes and risk management activities.
Compliance: Following the Trail Rules
On public lands, you see posted rules: stay on the trail, pack out trash, don’t feed wildlife. These aren’t arbitrary—they exist because the public expects trails to be safe and sustainable. If you’re already hiking responsibly, you’re already in compliance.
The same should be true for organizations. Compliance isn’t a goal in itself—it’s a byproduct of good design. If your processes are effective, efficient, and risk-aware, you’re already meeting the spirit of most regulations. Yes, sometimes regulations demand stricter tolerances than you’d prefer. That’s like requiring bear canisters in some parks even if your crew has always done fine with bear bags. But if you’ve built your systems well, the adjustments are minor.
Chasing compliance alone is like designing trails only in response to accidents. Good process design, like good wilderness planning, looks ahead. It anticipates tomorrow’s risks, not just yesterday’s failures.
Process Debt: The Gear You Forgot to Fix
There’s one more lesson from the trail that applies here: what I call process debt. Every Scout has seen the results of gear debt. Maybe it’s a tent pole that wasn’t repaired after the last trip, or boots that weren’t cleaned and oiled. Everything seems fine—until it isn’t. And when it fails, it usually fails at the worst moment: in the middle of a storm, miles from the trailhead.
Organizations carry the same hidden burden. Every undocumented decision, every shortcut taken without explanation, creates interest that someone has to pay later. Future teams inherit the mess, wasting time trying to reconstruct why certain steps exist or why others were abandoned. The longer this goes unaddressed, the higher the cost becomes. The fix is the same as with gear: maintain your processes with discipline. Document tradeoffs, explain assumptions, and treat changes with the same care you’d give to prepping for a long trek. Preparation doesn’t just make the journey smoother—it makes it survivable when conditions turn against you.
That muddy shortcut the Scouts took? By the end of the trip, no one used it again. They learned that the marked trail, though longer on paper, got them to camp more reliably and with less frustration. Every time someone repeats a task in your organization, they are paving a trail. Some are strong and reliable, like well-maintained routes. Others are shortcuts that collapse in the mud. Leaders have a choice: leave those paths as they are, or pave them into something safe, efficient, and aligned with the mission.
What should I do now?
Scout your organization the way you’d scout a trail. Where are the unofficial shortcuts? Which deserve to be formalized into real routes, and which should be rerouted before they lead people into trouble? I’d love to hear what trails you’re seeing in your world.