In chess, finding yourself in a blocked position doesn't signal the end of the game—it simply demands a different kind of strategic thinking. When pawns interlock and pieces can't break through, masters don't resign; they reassess the board, looking for even the smallest opportunity to create movement. The same principle applies to our organizational lives.
Last week, in "Sacrificing the Knight," we explored the courage it takes to give something up so a better position can emerge. But what if you can't see any path to a better position? What if every file is jammed, your rook has nowhere to roam, and even your queen is reduced to spectator status? That, my fellow players, is a blocked position—and it's as common in corporate life as it is on the 64 squares.
I've experienced this feeling multiple times throughout my career—that creeping realization that despite my best efforts, I've become hemmed in. It's uncomfortable, frustrating, and profoundly destabilizing. The sensation of working hard yet making no forward progress can shake your confidence and blur your sense of purpose. I remember sitting in my office late one evening, staring at a project plan that hadn't meaningfully advanced in weeks, wondering if I had somehow lost my edge.
These blockades rarely announce themselves with fanfare. Sometimes they sneak up suddenly through reorganizations or strategy shifts, but more often they build gradually—a subtle boxing-in through incremental constraints, small compromises, and accumulated responsibilities that don't create movement. They're rarely intentional or overt, which makes them all the more difficult to recognize until you're firmly trapped.
But feeling blocked doesn't mean it's time to leave the game. Rather, it signals an important moment to pause, assess, and reframe. Some of my most significant professional breakthroughs have emerged precisely when I felt most constrained. The key is developing strategies to recognize and dismantle these blockades before they drain your energy and enthusiasm.
Understanding the Blockade: When Progress Halts
In chess, blockades happen when pawns (yours, your opponent's, or—fun twist—both) lock the center so tightly that long-range pieces sputter. Nimzowitsch called the technique a police action: restrain the criminal pawn, then smother it.
In organizations, blockades form when projects, politics, or even our own habits trap us in perpetual busy-ness without progress. This state represents a particularly challenging test of Organizational Quotient (OQ)—when all your pieces are in play, yet movement feels impossible, how do you find the path forward?
I recently shared on LinkedIn about feeling stuck in my own career, describing it as "treading water despite continuous effort." The responses showed I wasn't alone. Many—dare I even say, most—successful professionals periodically hit these blockades—moments where despite skill, drive, and opportunity, progress seems to halt. What separates those who break through from those who remain stuck is their ability to recognize the blockade and strategically dismantle it.
The External Blockade: When the Wall Isn't Yours
Some blockades are constructed around us: budget freezes, missing headcount, territorial executives, complex approval processes—the organizational equivalent of an opponent's pawn chain locking down our most powerful pieces.
When I joined one organization, I inherited a legacy platform that touched every brand but had zero budget for modernization. Friction with the brands we served was constant. There was no runway for expansion. Add to that the fact that the engineering team had swelled to support the platform's growing needs while failing to deliver on the core requirements customers actually wanted. I found myself at a critical decision point: continue pushing to "make it work" against mounting odds, or choose a different path—one that might not look like a victory lap but could produce better results.
The frustration was palpable. Each day felt like pushing against the same immovable wall, with the added pressure of stakeholders asking why we weren't making progress. I cycled through denial, anger, and eventually a creeping sense of inadequacy—was I simply not clever enough to navigate this maze? I finally realized I was treating "constraints" like immutable laws of physics instead of negotiable game rules. Once I reframed the blockade as a position (not a verdict), I could plan a breakout: shut the platform down, repurpose its budget, and funnel the freed engineers into other efforts that could have better results for the company.
This experience taught me that external blockades often appear more solid than they actually are. What seemed like an impenetrable wall was actually a series of assumptions and historical precedents that could be questioned and rearranged.
The Internal Blockade: When You're Your Own Wall
While external blockades get most of our attention, the most challenging blockades often come from within. These are the self-imposed limitations, perfectionism, fear of failure, and habitual patterns that restrict our movement even when the external path is clear.
My most insidious self-imposed blockade emerged during a period when I appeared extremely productive. My calendar was packed with meetings, my to-do list constantly showed items being checked off, and I was generating an impressive volume of documents, presentations, and analyses. From the outside, I was the picture of productivity.
Early in my tech career, I had absorbed the pervasive cultural message that "busy" meant "valuable." Working late was a badge of honor, juggling triple-booked meetings signaled you were "in demand," and the more packed your calendar, the more successful you appeared. I wore my exhaustion like a trophy – proof that I was indispensable to the organization. When colleagues would say, "I don't know how you manage it all," I took it as a compliment rather than a warning.
The wake-up call came during a quarterly review when my manager asked a simple question: "What outcomes have all these activities produced?" The question hit me like a thunderbolt. I had been confusing output with outcomes, activity with achievement. I was creating decks that few people fully read, attending meetings where my presence wasn't critical (or where someone on my team could have represented our work), and generating analyses that didn't drive decisions. Some of these meetings, I realized, I shouldn't have been invited to in the first place – I was just another body in a room of too many participants.
I had built a fortress of busy-ness around myself, mistaking motion for progress. The board wasn't restricted by external forces—my focus was. This realization prompted a fundamental shift in how I evaluate my efforts, pushing me to constantly ask: "Will this activity drive meaningful outcomes, or just create more output?"
Even today, I find myself occasionally slipping back into this pattern—gravitating toward tasks that provide the comfort of visible production rather than the harder work of driving real outcomes. It's a natural tendency that requires constant recalibration. Now, I regularly audit my calendar and task list with a simple question: "If I wasn't busy with this, what high-impact could I focus on instead?" Your practice partner is a good person to check in on these things with, the more candid they can be with you the better.
Internal blockades are particularly toxic because they disguise themselves as virtues—thoroughness, responsiveness, conscientiousness. It requires genuine self-awareness to recognize when these qualities have transformed from strengths into constraints.
Spotting the Gridlock Early: Warning Signs
The sooner you recognize a blockade, the easier it is to break through. As we've discussed in previous explorations of OQ, situational awareness—the ability to read the board accurately—is crucial for strategic movement.
Ask yourself:
Has this initiative celebrated a real finish line in the last 90 days?
Are meetings repeating the same slide carousel?
Do I leave work tired but weirdly under-fulfilled?
Has my language shifted from active to passive? ("When approval comes through..." rather than "I will...")
Do I find myself using the same justifications for delays week after week?
If the answer is yes across multiple questions, you may be frozen in place—no check, no mate, just corporate Groundhog Day.
The Hidden Costs of Staying Blocked
Remaining in a blocked position exacts costs that go beyond obvious metrics:
Hidden Cost → How It Shows Up
(What you’re giving up → How that loss actually manifests)
Credibility drift → Your name equals “reliable,” but not “innovative.”
Opportunity decay → Fast-moving peers claim fresh squares first.
Energy leak → Continuous friction burns calories you could spend on bold moves.
Motivation erosion → Passion slowly transforms into resignation.
Skill stagnation → Your capabilities plateau while the field advances.
Emanuel Lasker warned that any plan—even a mediocre one—is better than no plan at all. A blocked position is the embodiment of "no plan." It's organizational purgatory—neither failing nor succeeding, just existing. And in today's rapidly evolving landscape, stagnation is its own form of failure.
Break-Out Tactics: Creating Space on the Board
When faced with a blockade, strategic players look for ways to create movement—even small shifts that might eventually lead to a breakthrough. Here are tactical approaches I've found effective (either through personal use or observation):
Push a Pawn
Ship a "tiny but visible" experiment. Movement—any movement—forces new calculations. When the big initiative is stalled, find a small, adjacent space where you can demonstrate progress. These micro-wins create momentum and often reveal unexpected pathways forward.
Exchange Pieces
Trade a low-impact committee seat for a high-learning cross-functional stint. The pieces lessen, the lanes widen. Simplification is a classic chess strategy in cramped positions—fewer pieces mean more room to maneuver. In your career, this might mean thoughtfully shedding responsibilities that consume energy without creating value.
Invite a Knight
External mentors and lateral colleagues jump barriers you can't. Ask them to co-sponsor a workshop or shadow-review your roadmap. Knights move in L-shapes, bypassing blockades that stop other pieces. Similarly, people with different perspectives often see pathways you've overlooked. This connects directly to our discussion of practice partners—those key allies who help us see the board differently.
Re-sacrifice
Yes, last week's lesson reprises: sometimes you clear the jam only by removing the very pawn you once protected. As we explored in "Sacrificing the Knight," letting go of cherished projects or approaches can be the key to unlocking new possibilities. This might mean killing a pet project, abandoning a preferred solution, or stepping away from a role you've outgrown.
My Latest Breakout: A Short, Slightly Painful Story
Launching a global, company-wide initiative without a dedicated budget or headcount can feel like being handed the keys to a Ferrari with no gas in the tank. At first, there’s real energy behind the vision—whiteboard sessions, leadership buy-in on paper, big ambitions. But as months roll by, the financial and attention investment wanes, and you’re left holding a mandate without the means to execute.
Rather than stall in “organizational purgatory,” you pivot to an experiment-driven mindset. Each small win chips away at skepticism, unlocking just enough momentum to green-light the next phase.
Parallel to the project work, you establish yourself as the go-to thinker by launching a concise, global internal newsletter. Packed with thoughtful insights, quick case studies, and cross-region learnings, it becomes the one thing people actually look forward to—and the compliments keep rolling in long after the pilots wrap up.
In the end, you realize the real victory wasn’t a perfect, fully funded rollout—it was reframing success around influence, culture, and continuous learning. By mining the nooks your org forgot to guard and keeping your voice top of mind, you leave a lasting stamp that outlives any single project.
This experience reinforced a lesson I've learned repeatedly: acceptance precedes adaptation. Only when I fully acknowledged the constraints could I find creative ways to work within them rather than wasting energy fighting them.
Finding Meaning in the Blockade
Perhaps the most important realization I've had about blocked positions is that they often precede significant growth. Much like how pressure creates diamonds, the constraints of a blocked position can force creativity and innovation that wouldn't emerge in more comfortable circumstances.
In my own career, periods of feeling stuck have invariably led to my most substantial professional evolution. The legacy platform shutdown led to more meaningful work. The time constraints of early motherhood made me a more efficient and decisive leader. The global project with minimal resources taught me lean execution skills and creative positioning that I still use today.
This perspective doesn't make blockades comfortable, but it does make them meaningful. When you find yourself in a cramped position, remember: this struggle isn't just an inconvenience—it's the crucible from which your next level of leadership will emerge.
Your Turn: Breaking Your Blockade
Where are you feeling walled-in right now? Pick one of today's tactics, try it this week, and drop me a note (or comment) about the result. Remember: the goal isn't a perfect board; it's an unblocked one.
The most masterful chess players don't avoid blocked positions—they develop the patience and creativity to transform them. As you continue developing your Organizational Quotient, embrace these moments of restriction as opportunities to deepen your strategic thinking and discover new pathways to success.
Thanks for reading From Pawn to Player. If this resonates with you or you know someone who’s been struggling with their blocked position, share this post and help them pry the board open.