As I've listened to dozens of museum directors talk about their experience of leading institution-wide change and improvements, common themes emerge. One is best illustrated by thinking of the director and several key staff and board members setting sail to a new land. A significant change in mission is at hand, or a governance shift from city-operated to privately managed, or the first spade of a grand new building has just been turned. The initial enthusiasm and leadership of this core group can build a great deal of energy for change.

You can see themstanding in the bow, anticipating the horizon, sun shining, white sails billowing with the new vision. Slowly, the leaders realize the ship is not moving! Everyone wonders why. Eventually, the director notices a very thin line over the sternanchored. Aha! she says. Someone forgot to haul in the anchor. Sailors often remark on the power of a small anchor to hold a large craft.

The director may begin a conversation with the anchor, trying to entice it on board. In some cases, the director may dive down into the water and try to free the anchor, help it up, wanting to bring it along because she realizes that even though the anchor is a current impediment, it may have quite useful attributes on the journey ahead. In some cases, the director is successful in dragging the anchor on board. But more often I've heard from directors that cutting at least one anchor line is necessary. Other small anchors, not stuck deep in the mud, then work feverishly to free themselves and get on board. Everyone on the crew marvels at how well the boat sails and how fast it goes once the anchor is cut loose.

Historically, a hatchet was lashed next to the anchor line so it could be cut if necessary. Cutting loose the anchor is always a significant act and a great loss. It is clearly distressing to give up such a valuable asset. However, when there is not enough time to get the anchor on board, every real leader knows it is appropriate to sacrifice an anchor to save the ship.