Writing

Why differentiation dilutes as companies scale

A scale-up's differentiator fades because the number of decisions grows faster than the shared understanding behind them, and that gap opens at three levels at once. The top team does not agree on what the differentiator is. The managers below them cannot name it. And the people who make the product work from a high-level brand guide and a set of low-level assets, with nothing in between to decide with. Three founders agree on what makes the company different without ever writing it down, and every choice they make carries it. At fifty people that same differentiator has to survive a pricing call, a hiring decision, a support reply and a product trade-off, made by people who were never in the room. Each decision is defensible on its own. Together they sand the differentiator back towards the category average, and customers feel the result well before anyone inside notices. Here are the three levels, and a test you can run on your own company this week.

The top team does not agree on it either

The usual explanation for a fading differentiator is that leadership said it and the message was lost on the way down. The evidence starts higher than that. A research team at the MIT Sloan School of Management, led by Donald Sull, asked executives to write down their company's strategic priorities, built the top five from the team's own answers, and then checked how many of the team listed at least three of them. Nobody was marked against an official list, so the study measures agreement and nothing else. Their finding, published in the MIT Sloan Management Review in 2017: "two-thirds of the top executives were on the same page in just 27% of the companies we studied." There is nobody above the top team to have communicated it badly. In most companies the differentiator has several sincere versions before it leaves the room where it was decided.

Middle management inherits the disagreement

Below that room the message thins further. Sull and two colleagues had earlier surveyed nearly 8,000 managers in more than 250 companies for a March 2015 Harvard Business Review article on strategy execution, and reported: "Only 55% of the middle managers we have surveyed can name even one of their company's top five priorities." Middle managers are the people who turn a strategy into the hundred small choices a week that a customer actually meets. Where nearly half of them cannot name a single priority, the differentiator is being guessed at daily by people acting in good faith. Reciting the strategy at a monthly meeting does not install it.

The same research found that 30% of managers named failure to coordinate across units as the single greatest challenge to executing their strategy, close behind failure to align at 40%. Growth adds teams faster than it adds ways for those teams to stay coherent with each other.

The pressure is internal, and it is ordinary

A fading differentiator reads from the inside like a market problem. A competitor caught up. The category commoditised. Buyers became more price-sensitive. Bain & Company studied 8,000 companies across 40 countries over five years for its book The Founder's Mentality, and reported in July 2016 that "85 percent of the barriers to profitable growth for the average company are internal and manageable". Bain puts that figure at 94 percent for the largest companies.

Nobody schedules a meeting to make the company more ordinary. It happens through decisions that each looked reasonable in their own review, taken by teams who were never given a way to weigh the differentiator against the deadline in front of them.

The guide sits too high and the assets sit too low

The third level is structural, and it is the one I see most often, because design is where a decision becomes visible to a customer. A company that takes its brand seriously hands the work to a brand team, or to an agency where there is none, and that team sets out to make the brand land. What comes back is a brand guide, a set of dos and don'ts, and a library of assets. The guide describes an essence at a height no product decision is ever taken at. The assets sit at ground level: a logo, a palette, a type scale, a button. Between the two is where every real decision lives, and nothing in the delivery covers it.

The team that built the design language is rarely the team building the product. The product teams were not in the room when the brand was decided, they will not be told what was traded away to decide it, and the guide gives them no way to work out whether a given screen, feature or flow shows up as the brand or merely wears its colours. So they decide anyway, sincerely and on deadline, with a style guide open in the next tab. This is a structural gap between two teams, and the same people would fall into it at any company. Middle managers do not see it because it sits below the level they steer.

What dilution looks like from the inside

This is what the three levels produce together. A team entering a new market needs a page live by Friday and uses the template that is already there. Support standardises its replies to bring response times down, and the one sentence that sounded like the company is edited out of the template. Two product teams solve the same problem differently because neither knew the other was on it. A new hire copies what they see, which is already a generation away from the original. None of this is a failure of effort. Each one is a small trade made with nobody in the room holding the differentiator.

Flowdonia's method, Differentia, calls the fix the Bond: the distinctive attributes translated into principles for every layer and touchpoint, co-created with the teams who own them so it becomes how they work. The principles are written at the height where decisions are actually taken, between the essence in the guide and the assets in the library. It has landed when a junior in any team can name what the company is committed to being and explain why their last decision served it.

A test to run this week

Ask five people in five different teams, separately and in writing, to answer two questions. What makes this company different, and how does it show in the product of your work? Pick people who do not sit in the leadership meeting, and let none of them see another's answer.

Then read the five replies side by side. If they name different things, the company has more than one strategy in play and the market is receiving all of them at once. If they name the same thing and nobody can say where it shows in their work, you have a sentence everyone has learned to recite with no mechanism underneath it. The second result is the more common one, and the easier to repair. Then ask one more question of whoever last shipped a product change: which page of the brand guide did you use to decide it. If the answer is none, the guide is sitting too high to be used.

Before you spend anything on holding a differentiator, check that it is real. How to know your differentiation is real sets out the three checks: whether a competitor could say the same sentence, whether a well-funded team could copy it inside a product cycle, and whether any of your numbers move when it is present.

What it looks like when a differentiator holds at scale

I led design on the consumer philips.com redesign, which lifted NPS by 12 points and carried a €4M a year effect. That number came out of hundreds of separate decisions, taken by teams who mostly never met, all pointing the same way. I led the go-to-market design for Philips OneBlade. It launched under the line "this is not a shaver" and reached €55 million in its first year. A line that specific only survives contact with a supply chain, a retailer and a support desk when everyone touching it knows what it commits them to.


Flowdonia installs that mechanism as Show up clear: principles for every touchpoint, a steering rhythm your teams run, and measures that read your strategy.