In the late 1990s, Eastern Ontario and Quebec were hit by an ice storm of historic scale. Driving through the affected area a week later, I witnessed something I’ve thought about many times since.
The mighty hardwood trees — known for their strength and their solidity — lay broken and shattered across the landscape. Their rigid trunks had snapped under the weight of the ice. They were reduced to firewood.
Beside them, the softwood trees were still standing. Still reaching skyward. Not because they were stronger — they weren’t. Because they were more flexible. They bent with the storm rather than fighting it.
Here’s what that image taught me about business: we obsess over building stronger structures. More robust frameworks. Detailed plans that can withstand any challenge. We equate strength with rigidity and call it success. But rigidity is what the hardwoods had. We saw where that got them.
True resilience isn’t about having the sturdiest possible system. It’s about having one that can bend without breaking — one that can absorb pressure, adapt to unexpected conditions, and return to form when the storm passes. The businesses that survive the equivalent of an ice storm aren’t necessarily the ones with the most impressive infrastructure. They’re the ones that pivot when conditions change, listen and respond quickly, and learn from the failures they inevitably experience rather than treating those failures as evidence that the system was wrong.
The next storm is always coming. Whether it’s economic, reputational, or operational, it will test your organization. The question isn’t how strong you are when everything is normal. It’s how flexible you are when nothing is.