When the Informal Becomes Primary

Every organization has two communication systems running simultaneously. The first is formal. It includes the channels everyone agrees matter: staff meetings, email threads, shared calendars, documented decisions, official announcements. This is the system leaders build intentionally, the one they reference when they talk about accountability or alignment.

The second is informal. It includes the hallway conversations, the side texts, the unscheduled phone calls, the "just so you know" updates delivered in passing. This system was never designed. It emerged organically from the relationships people already had and the communication habits they already trusted.

In healthy organizations, these two systems work together. Informal communication lubricates the formal structure. It creates space for relational connection, real-time problem solving, and the kind of human conversation that cannot be scripted into an agenda. The danger is not that informal communication exists. The danger is when it becomes the primary system: when critical information stops moving through any reliable channel and starts depending entirely on who happens to be in the right conversation at the right time.

When that shift happens, the organization does not drift immediately into crisis. But decisions get made without the people who needed to be consulted. Concerns surface only to those already in the loop. Important context gets lost because it was never formally captured. And the leaders responsible for outcomes often do not have visibility into what is actually happening until something goes wrong.

This is not a problem you solve by eliminating informal communication. That would be like trying to eliminate gravity. The question is whether your formal systems are strong enough to carry the weight they are supposed to carry, or whether they have quietly become secondary to the network of relationships that already existed before any structure was put in place.

The Signals Worth Watching

There are patterns that show up when informal communication has become too central to how an organization actually operates. These are not failures of character or signs of dysfunction. They are diagnostic indicators that the formal system has lost its load-bearing capacity.

You hear about decisions after they have already been made.

This is one of the clearest signals. A decision gets announced in a meeting or mentioned in passing, and your immediate internal response is surprise; not because the decision itself is shocking, but because you had no idea it was even under consideration. The decision was real. It involved real people, real conversation, and real deliberation. It just happened somewhere you were not invited and through a channel you were not part of.

When this becomes a pattern rather than an isolated incident, it means the organization's decision-making process is running on relational proximity rather than structural clarity. The people who are close to the center of informal communication are the ones shaping direction. Everyone else is receiving updates. Scripture reminds us that 

The plans of the diligent lead surely to abundance, but everyone who is hasty comes only to poverty. (Proverbs 21:5)

When decisions bypass the people who should be included, the organization loses the diligence that comes from shared deliberation.

The same names keep coming up as information brokers.

In every organization, there are people who naturally become connectors. They are relationally skilled, they pay attention to what is happening across different parts of the organization, and they are often the ones others go to when they need context or clarity. This is not inherently a problem. The problem is when these individuals become the only reliable way information moves.

If you find yourself regularly saying, "I should check with so-and-so to see what is actually happening," or if the phrase "nobody told me" is common in your organization, that is a signal. The formal communication structures—whatever they are—are not functioning as the primary channel. Instead, a handful of people have become the informal infrastructure, and the organization's ability to function well depends almost entirely on their availability and willingness to play that role.

This is not sustainable. It is also not fair to the people carrying that burden. When individuals become the communication system rather than participants in it, the organization is one departure, one burnout, or one relational fracture away from losing critical connectivity.

Meeting notes do not reflect what actually got decided.

This is subtle but telling. A meeting happens. Notes are taken. The notes are shared. And yet when you read them later, they do not capture the real conversation. The tone is sanitized. The disagreement that shaped the final decision is missing. The context that mattered most is nowhere in the documentation.

When this becomes normal, it creates a kind of organizational amnesia. Six months later, when someone asks why a particular decision was made, the official record offers no help. The only people who really know are the ones who were in the room and remember the informal context that never got written down. Moses understood this principle when he appointed capable leaders and established clear lines of communication and decision-making (Exodus 18:13-26). The system Jethro recommended was not designed to eliminate relationship but to ensure that justice and clarity could reach everyone, not just those with direct access to Moses.

Why This Matters More in Ministry and Nonprofit Contexts

In corporate environments, informal communication that bypasses structure is usually addressed quickly because it creates measurable inefficiency. Decisions get delayed, projects stall, accountability gaps become visible in performance metrics. The feedback loop is relatively tight.

In churches and nonprofits, the feedback loop is slower and softer. Ministry outcomes are harder to measure. Relational dynamics carry more weight. And there is often a cultural assumption that formal structure is somehow at odds with organic, Spirit-led work. This makes it easier for informal communication to quietly become primary without anyone naming it as a problem.

The other factor is trust. In faith-based contexts, informal communication often feels more trustworthy than formal communication because it is relational rather than institutional. Leaders who depend on informal channels are not trying to bypass accountability. They are often trying to stay connected to what is real. The problem is that "what is real" becomes limited to what is accessible through those informal channels, and the people outside those channels are left navigating an organization they do not fully understand.

This creates a specific kind of risk. When informal communication is the primary system, organizational knowledge becomes concentrated in a small relational network. New staff members struggle to get up to speed because the information they need is not documented anywhere. Long-tenured volunteers who are outside the inner circle feel increasingly disconnected. And when leadership transitions happen, critical context walks out the door because it was never captured in any form that could be transferred.

What Strong Formal Systems Actually Do

Formal communication systems are not bureaucratic luxuries. They are foundational care for the people doing the work. Paul's instruction to 

Let all things be done decently and in order. (1 Corinthians 14:40) 

was not about stifling the Spirit but about creating conditions where everyone could participate and understand what was happening.

A strong formal system does not eliminate informal communication. It provides a reliable baseline so that informal communication can do what it does best—build relationship, create space for nuance, and allow for the kind of real-time responsiveness that structured meetings cannot always accommodate.

When formal systems are working well, they accomplish several things that informal communication cannot:

• They create a shared record. Decisions, context, and rationale get documented in a way that is accessible beyond the people who were in the room when it happened. This is not about creating bureaucracy. It is about ensuring that six months from now, someone can understand why a particular direction was chosen without having to track down the three people who remember the conversation.

  
  

• They distribute access equitably. Formal systems do not depend on relational proximity. They create pathways for information and decision-making that are available to everyone in the organization, not just the people who happen to be well-connected. This is especially important in organizations that value inclusion and want to avoid insider-outsider dynamics.

  
  

• They provide accountability structures. When decisions and communication happen primarily through informal channels, accountability becomes relational rather than structural. This is fine when relationships are healthy, but it breaks down quickly when conflict or tension enters the picture. Formal systems create accountability that does not depend on whether people like each other or are currently getting along.

  
  

• They make organizational knowledge transferable. When a key leader leaves, formal systems ensure that the knowledge they carried does not leave with them. The decisions they made, the context they understood, and the patterns they recognized are documented in a way that the next person can access. This is what makes organizations resilient across leadership transitions. 

Where there is no guidance, a people falls, but in an abundance of counselors there is safety. (Proverbs 11:14)

That abundance of counsel becomes accessible only when the wisdom is captured and shared, not when it remains locked in individual memory.

The Diagnostic Question

The question worth sitting with is not whether informal communication exists in your organization. It almost certainly does, and that is not inherently a problem. The question is whether the people in your organization could reasonably expect to stay informed, make good decisions, and understand what is happening without depending on informal access to the right people at the right time.

If the answer is no—if staying in the loop requires knowing who to ask, being in the right conversation, or having relational access to the people who hold unwritten context—then informal communication has become primary. And that is a structural risk worth addressing before it becomes a crisis.

What signals have you seen that an organization was depending too heavily on informal communication?

If this resonates with something you are navigating, the Leadership Clarity Field Guide explores the early warning signals that most leaders sense but rarely name. Free resources are available at https://kingdomplanning.org/projects-8, and if you want a quiet conversation about what you are seeing in your own organization, a free consultation is one conversation away at https://kingdomplanning.org/book-online.

You can also find ongoing content on leadership and organizational health on the Kingdom Planning YouTube (https://youtube.com/@kingdomplanning-p4g) and Rumble (https://rumble.com/user/KingdomPlanning) channels.

Book Corner: The Law of Success, Chapter 3

Napoleon Hill's The Law of Success was written in 1928 as a comprehensive philosophy of personal achievement, synthesized from Hill's study of successful individuals across multiple industries. Chapter 3 focuses on self-confidence, which Hill positions not as an abstract personality trait but as a deliberate discipline built through thought control and mental conditioning.

Hill's Core Argument

Hill's central claim in this chapter is that self-confidence is not something you are born with. It is something you build systematically by controlling what you allow your mind to dwell on. He argues that most people fail not because they lack ability but because they have trained their minds to focus on limitation, failure, and reasons why things will not work.

The chapter is structured around what Hill calls the "self-confidence formula," a written declaration meant to be read aloud daily until it becomes internalized. The formula includes statements like "I can do what I have set out to do" and "I will eliminate hatred, envy, jealousy, selfishness, and cynicism by developing love for all humanity." Hill is not advocating for blind optimism. He is advocating for disciplined mental focus as a prerequisite for sustained action.

What makes this chapter relevant beyond its original context is Hill's insistence that confidence is not built through occasional affirmation but through relentless repetition. He compares the process to physical training: a single workout does not build strength, but consistent training over time does. The same principle applies to thought patterns. A single positive thought does not produce self-confidence, but consistent mental discipline does. This aligns with the scriptural principle that transformation happens through the renewing of the mind (Romans 12:2). What we rehearse mentally shapes how we see ourselves and what we believe is possible.

Where Hill's Framework Translates Well

Hill's emphasis on repetition and mental conditioning aligns with what we now understand about habit formation and cognitive reinforcement. The brain does build patterns based on repeated input. Thought patterns do become default modes over time. Hill's insistence that you cannot think your way into confidence in a single moment but must train your mind over weeks and months is sound.

His focus on eliminating negative mental habits—what he calls "the enemies of self-confidence"—also holds up. Hill identifies fear, doubt, and comparison as the primary destroyers of confidence, and he is right that these are not external obstacles but internal ones. They are patterns of thought that people rehearse until they become automatic. Breaking those patterns requires deliberate counter-rehearsal, which is exactly what Hill's formula is designed to do. Scripture addresses this same reality: 

For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control (2 Timothy 1:7).

 Fear is not eliminated by ignoring it but by replacing it with a different set of rehearsed truths. The other element that translates well is Hill's recognition that self-confidence is not self-centeredness. He distinguishes between confidence built on ego and confidence built on clarity of purpose. Ego-driven confidence collapses under pressure because it depends on external validation. Purpose-driven confidence is more stable because it is rooted in something larger than personal success. This distinction matters in leadership contexts, where confidence that depends on being right or being admired is brittle, but confidence rooted in mission and service is sustainable.

Where Hill's Framework Needs Context

Hill wrote in an era when individual effort was treated as the sole determinant of success. His framework does not account for structural barriers, systemic inequality, or the reality that some people face obstacles that have nothing to do with their mindset. Self-confidence is valuable, but it is not a cure for injustice, and Hill's writing occasionally veers into suggesting that anyone who fails simply lacked the discipline to think correctly.

This is where Hill's work needs to be read with discernment. Building self-confidence through mental discipline is legitimate. Suggesting that mental discipline alone is sufficient to overcome every obstacle is not. Leadership in ministry and nonprofit contexts requires recognizing both: the importance of internal clarity and the reality of external constraints that cannot be thought away.

Hill's treatment of failure also needs adjustment. He frames failure almost entirely as a mental problem, something that happens because a person allowed doubt to dominate their thinking. This underestimates how often failure is a necessary part of learning. Some failures are not evidence of weak self-confidence. They are evidence of honest experimentation, appropriate risk-taking, or situations where success was never fully within your control. Hill's framework can create a pressure to interpret every failure as a mental lapse, which is not always accurate or helpful. Scripture offers a more grace-filled view: 

The steps of a man are established by the Lord, when he delights in his way; though he fall, he shall not be cast headlong, for the Lord upholds his hand (Psalm 37:23-24).

 Failure is not always a failure of mindset. Sometimes it is part of the path.

What Leaders Can Take from Hill

The most useful takeaway from Hill's chapter is not the formula itself but the underlying principle: what you rehearse mentally becomes what you expect practically. If you rehearse reasons why something will not work, you train yourself to look for confirmation of that belief. If you rehearse clarity about what you are trying to accomplish and why it matters, you train yourself to look for pathways forward.

This is not magical thinking. It is attentional discipline. Leaders who build the habit of focusing on what is possible—not in a way that ignores real constraints, but in a way that does not allow constraints to dominate every conversation—create different organizational cultures than leaders who default to rehearsing limitation.

The second takeaway is Hill's insistence that confidence is not waiting to feel ready. It is deciding to act before you feel fully ready and building confidence through the evidence of your own follow-through. This matters in ministry and nonprofit leadership, where waiting for perfect clarity or total confidence before moving forward often means never moving at all. Confidence is not the prerequisite for action. It is the result of action taken despite uncertainty.

Hill's work is almost a century old, written in a different cultural and economic context, and it carries assumptions that need to be questioned. But the core discipline he describes—training your mind to focus on what you are building rather than what you fear—remains relevant. Not because it solves every problem, but because it is one of the foundational practices that makes sustained leadership possible.

Stay blessed,

Joshua M. Updegraff, Founder of Kingdom Planning