"We need more."
It's the first response of every struggling team. More headcount to handle the load. More features to stay competitive. More processes to prevent mistakes. More meetings to stay aligned.
More. More. More.
But here's the cruel irony of growth: The more we add to fix our problems, the more problems we create to fix.
Let me show you what I mean.
In a recent leadership workshop, I presented this challenge:
Imagine you are a manager at this Circle K location and have been tapped to address the escalating number of robberies occurring. Like most convenience stores, the cash on hand makes your store a target for petty criminals, and the crime rate is hurting your employees, customers, and bottom line. Also, like most convenience stores, margins are thin, so you don’t have unlimited capital to solve the issue.
Take a moment to consider your solution. How would you address this problem?
If you're like most leaders, you're falling into one of three traps that catch even the most sophisticated organizations:
Costly deterrents (e.g., higher security monitoring, hiring on-site security, etc.),
Cheap but unreliable preventative controls (e.g., employees keep a firearm under the register, ask local police to stop by more often, etc.), or
Acknowledgment that robberies happen and focus on the aftermath (e.g., training employees on how to handle the situation, higher-definition cameras to catch perpetrators, etc.).
There’s nothing inherently wrong with these ideas, but none of them feel quite right. You may have noticed a theme to the buckets - they all add something. Added security. Added police presence. Added training.
We’re operating in a constrained environment (again, margins are thin), yet we can’t help but invest in adding something to remove the problem. What we so often overlook is removing something from the equation.
Take a look at that picture of the storefront again. Did you notice that advertisements obscure all of the windows? Gee, I wonder why criminals see your store as an easy target.
This may sound like a silly example, but it’s based on a program launched by the police in Canada called Clear Zone. The basic premise is simple - providing visibility directly into a store and the front counter from the street deters criminals because they know it's more likely they'll get caught. Launched in 2013, it reduced robberies by 18%…and, most importantly, it cost the stores virtually nothing.
The owner of this Circle K removed posters from the far left window to see the cash register from the street.
Our default mode to add is not exclusive to convenience store owners. Behavioral scientist Leidy Klotz designed a series of experiments with lego structures to showcase how we often overlook removing something to improve it (emphasis mine).
In one study, recently published in Nature, we challenged participants to modify a sandwich-like structure made from Legos so that it was strong enough and high enough to hold a masonry brick above the head of a stormtrooper figurine. Each participant received a structure consisting of parallel horizontal Lego panels connected by a vertical column that narrowed to only one block wide where it connected to the top panel. We asked participants to:
“Improve this project so that it can hold a brick above the storm trooper’s head without collapsing.”
And we offered an incentive:
“You will earn one dollar if you successfully complete this task. Each piece you add costs ten cents.”
The best solution is to remove the single block forming the thin part of the column. The top panel can then be attached to the larger section of the column, which stabilizes the structure and still leaves enough clearance to avoid the storm trooper getting squashed by the masonry brick.
Subtracting one block was the fastest way to solve the problem. Plus, only subtracting allowed participants to earn the full dollar.
And yet participants were still more likely to add than subtract. This was evidence that people add to their detriment—at least when trying to modify a Lego structure so that it can hold a brick safely above the head of a stormtrooper.
The full paper is fascinating, but you get the point. Only when prompted to consider subtraction did anyone consider removing a brick to stabilize the structure. Otherwise, people focused on adding bricks despite the cost.
This reveals something profound about our thinking: We equate addition with progress and subtraction with loss. Even when subtraction is clearly better—cheaper, simpler, more elegant—our instinct is to build up rather than pare down.
The Hidden Costs of Addition
The problem with an addition mindset is that it attempts to solve with scale rather than sense. This bias toward more creates mounting complexity that slowly suffocates organizations:
Complexity Debt: Each addition—whether it's a new process, feature, or role—creates hidden maintenance costs that compound over time. Like technical debt in software, this complexity debt slowly suffocates innovation and agility.
Resource Dilution: When we consistently solve problems by adding resources, we spread our attention and energy ever thinner. More meetings, more reports, more initiatives—each new addition divides our focus further.
Solution Bloat: Adding becomes our default response, even when subtraction would be more effective:
When productivity drops, we add another collaboration tool instead of removing unnecessary meetings
When deadlines slip, we add more checkpoints instead of simplifying the process
When sales decline, we add more features instead of removing friction
In most cases, these efforts are not only allowed but celebrated. As discussed in The Dangers of Playing it Safe, doing more is a good cover for when nothing is going well. Sure, times are tough, but look at their effort…or so the thinking goes. Ultimately, these strategies delay the inevitable, but that doesn’t negate the attractiveness of the tactic.
The key to all of this is to remember that subtraction isn’t about doing more with less but removing what doesn’t meaningfully move you forward. Paradoxically, only by removing things that would otherwise diffuse our efforts can we ultimately end up with more.
When things aren’t adding up, start subtracting.
How to Make Subtraction Your Default Strategy
When asked how he created his masterpiece David, Michelangelo responded by saying, “It's simple. I just removed everything that is not David.”
This is the essence of subtraction—seeing what doesn't belong and having the courage to remove it.
Here's how to teach yourself to see the solution waiting to be revealed by subtraction:
First, Change Your Questions. The hardest part isn't the removing—it's knowing what to remove. Start by replacing the questions that trigger our addition bias:
Then, Make It a Practice. Subtraction requires discipline:
Before discussing things you could add, list three things you could eliminate
When reviewing plans, count the ratio of additions to subtractions
Look for places where a series of recent additions have created complexity over time
Finally, Make It Visible. Subtraction often goes unnoticed—which is exactly why it needs celebration:
When a team eliminates three unnecessary meetings, celebrate that win
When someone simplifies a process from twelve steps to three, tell that story
When a product succeeds by removing features, make it a case study
The truth is, subtraction isn't about having less—it's about making room to do more. And in a world obsessed with more, the ability to subtract might be your most valuable skill.
Sometimes, the most powerful solution isn't hidden behind what's missing—it's hiding behind what's already there. Like a window obscured by advertisements, or a LEGO structure one brick too heavy, your next breakthrough might not need anything new.
It might just need less.