Will This Make the Boat Go Faster?

Easter is a pretty good time to talk about renewal. And not just the kind you get from a long weekend and a few hot cross buns. I’m talking about the deeper kind—the kind that quietly nudges you to ask: What do I need to let go of? What’s really worth carrying forward? And maybe the most powerful question of all: Will it make the boat go faster?

That line wasn’t just a clever motto from Sir Peter Blake and Team New Zealand. It was their decision-making compass. If something—a meeting, a mindset, a habit—didn’t help the boat go faster, it got binned, reworked, or questioned hard.

But here’s the thing: that question isn’t just for sailors. It’s gold for anyone trying to lead well, live better, or grow through change. Educators. Coaches. Business leaders. Parents. You name it. If something in your day-to-day life isn’t helping you move with more purpose, connection, or clarity—why keep doing it?

Most mornings, you’ll find me in the pool before the sun’s up. It’s my reset. There’s something about water that sharpens your focus. The drag of a sloppy stroke, the way misalignment slows you down—it’s all immediate feedback. But when you hit your rhythm—breath, body, mind all in sync—there’s a kind of clarity that shows up. You start seeing everything through a simpler lens: Is this helping me move forward? Or is it just noise?

That’s where Blake’s question lands differently. Will it make the boat go faster? Sometimes, I ask it mid-stroke. Sometimes, halfway through a meeting. Either way, it cuts through the clutter.

When athletes hit a slump, the temptation is to change what’s easy. New shoes. A different playlist. A new coach. And sometimes those tweaks help—but often, they’re a distraction from the real stuff.

Because sometimes the problem isn’t your gear. It’s your mindset. Or your technique. Or the story you keep telling yourself about what you can’t do. And if that story goes unchallenged, no new tool is going to shift your trajectory.

Same in leadership. You can upgrade the software, reorganise the team, and read another book. But if you don’t examine the patterns underneath—the avoidance, the over-functioning, the overthinking—you’re just adjusting the sails while dragging an anchor.

We live in an age of information overload. Everyone has access to data, frameworks, and strategy. The real difference isn’t in who knows more. It’s in who applies what they know—consistently, intentionally, and under pressure.

In sport, plenty of athletes know the mechanics. But when the pressure’s on, they default to what they’ve practised. Not what they’ve read.

It’s the same in life and leadership. We don’t rise to our ideals when things get hard—we fall to our training. So the question is: What have you been practising?

Growth doesn’t come from knowing more. It comes from rehearsing the new until it becomes your natural response. That’s when the boat really starts to move.

Muscle memory is both a gift and a trap. It makes performance automatic—but it also makes poor habits sticky. Shifting it takes more than willpower. It takes repetition. Feedback. Intentional stress-testing.

The same goes for how we lead, think, and relate. If your default under pressure is control, withdrawal, or urgency—then rewiring that takes deliberate practice. Not once. Over and over.

And the kicker? When things get tough, we regress—even if we’ve trained for change. That’s why it’s not enough for your new strategy to work in calm waters. It has to hold when the wind picks up.

If your new mindset only works when you’re rested and in control—it’s not yours yet.

There’s real power in asking, “What if I tried this differently?” That kind of curiosity can unlock change. But curiosity alone won’t carry you through.

Because most people don’t resist change out of laziness—they resist because they’re stretched thin. Or they’re stuck in systems that reward the very patterns they’re trying to shift.

That’s why change needs more than insight. It needs structure. Rituals. Culture. Accountability.

If the boat is taking on water, you don’t just need better questions. You need to patch the hull and steady the course.

I’ve walked into lots of organisations that say they value well-being, or inclusion, or growth. But culture doesn’t live in a mission statement. It lives in the small stuff—what actually happens when no one’s watching.

When I visit a school or workplace, I don’t start with a strategy. I sit in reception. I listen. I watch how people greet each other. I observe who gets airtime in meetings. I notice what gets celebrated—and what gets ignored.

That’s the real culture. That’s the current you’re caught in. And if it’s heavy with mistrust, passive aggression, or silent fatigue—no strategy is going to make your boat fly.

Want to move faster? Lighten the emotional load. Start with what people feel, not just what they’re told.

Flourishing isn’t about endless hustle. And it’s not about staying comfortable either. It’s about alignment—between what you believe, how you behave, and why you’re doing it.

The goal isn’t to become someone new. The goal is to become more of who you’re truly meant to be—and less of what you’ve accumulated out of habit, defence, or burnout.

That’s why Blake’s question is so brilliant. It cuts through the noise. Will this help us move better, faster, with more purpose and unity? If the answer’s no—why hang on to it?

And here’s the paradox. Sometimes the best way to make the boat go faster… is to ease up on the paddles.

Rest. Say no. Step back. Let go of what no longer fits—even if it used to work beautifully.

Flourishing doesn’t mean acceleration at all costs. It means pruning. Making space. Pacing yourself. The courage isn’t always in speeding up—it’s in stopping long enough to ask: Why am I rowing so hard? And is it getting me anywhere that matters?

So this Easter, take a breath.

Look at your calendar. Your habits. Your assumptions.

Ask yourself: Will this make the boat go faster? Or is it just keeping you afloat?

Because if you’re serious about flourishing—not just surviving—then it’s time to act like it.