Peloton, the fitness and wellness company behind the stationary exercise bike, was at the right place at the right time—until it wasn’t. It went public less than six months before the COVID-19 pandemic, with $1 billion in annual revenue and 700,000 fitness subscribers. Two years later, as the pandemic reached its zenith, Peloton had grown to $4 billion in revenue and nearly 3 million subscribers. Demand has been declining ever since, and the company has been desperate to figure out where to go from here. Its stock trades at a third of its pre-pandemic level.
At the height of the pandemic, Peloton not only offered its customers a way to interrupt their relentlessly sedentary indoor lifestyles but also promised emotional support. When you bought a Peloton bike, you bought belonging. You weren’t exercising alone in your basement; you were riding with thousands, your name climbing a leaderboard, instructors shouting at you. The message was unmistakable: This is a community. And people believed it. They were isolated, and this was a way to do something good and healthy together.
Two People, Two Bikes, Two Different Paths
Some might argue that Peloton got a lucky break when the pandemic hit and has been coming down from the mountaintop ever since. When the world is in quarantine, what better business to be in than something that requires you to be indoors?
But I see it a little differently. Imagine two people buy the same Peloton bike. They pay the same price, use the same app, and follow the same instructor (Cody Rigsby!). A year later, one of them hasn’t missed a week of workouts. The other has their bike sitting as a shrine to the gods of exercise desire. Both riders bought into the same clear storyline on the same platform, but experienced totally different outcomes. One understood that belonging to a community of riders would be a commitment. The other understood that buying a bike would be good exercise.
When people understand what you say, that’s clarity.
When people understand what you want, that’s expectation.
Peloton was good at being clear. Their positioning, promotions, and campaigns flipped practically overnight when the pandemic hit. They made it clear that it was easy to get a bike and start riding with free trials and friendly payment terms.
But underneath that clear buy-in was an absence of what participation actually required. Was this about consistency, effort, transformation, or just showing up when it felt good? Is Peloton a stay-at-home personal gym? Is it a fitness community that you can tap into remotely or at your favorite health club? Is it a technology company trying to make exercise social? That’s where their clarity went off the rails, resulting in divergent paths for the two bike buyers.
Say What You Want
I work with too many companies that spend more time on what they are trying to say (clarity) than on what they are trying to make happen (expectation).
For example, it might be clear to your team that growth is the priority, but is it clear what their role is in making that growth happen? Likewise, it might be clear to your clients that engaging your services will help them accomplish the impossible. But is it clear to the client what they must contribute for it to really work?
Clarity creates understanding. Expectations create behavior. And behavior is ultimately what companies are trying to influence, whether with employees, customers, or stakeholders.
But this is where many get stuck. They craft compelling language like vision statements, cultural values, and strategic priorities, delivering them with precision. They might even generate excitement, enthusiasm, and temporary momentum. But what you celebrate publicly and don’t enforce purposefully eventually becomes a figment of everyone's imagination.
Nothing changes because no one is quite sure what is required.
Clarity without expectation is the Antagonist because it creates the illusion of possibility without the reality of accountability.
Being clear on expectations is easy to avoid in the moment because expectations create tension. They require specificity and expose tradeoffs. They force conversations about consequences, standards, and consistency.
Clarity inspires. Expectations confront.
The organizations that move and sustain are the ones that make clarity compelling enough to make participation unavoidable.
Put This Antagonist to Work
In my work with principals and their teams to build clarity with accountability, consider these three recommendations for defeating this Antagonist.
Attach a consequence. Don’t ask “What do we want people to believe?” Ask “What happens to someone who hears this and does nothing differently?” If you can’t answer that, you’ve tickled ears rather than activated energy.
Check your measurements. If you can’t find a way to measure what happens as a result of your message, you’re likely not affecting much.
Listen for the drummer. You know the one, that person who is pressing for what you actually mean and not letting you get away with being vague. Use their drum-beating skills to help surface the expectation for action.
The value of clear and present expectations is not that people understand them; it’s that they now know what’s required of them.
The Antagonist is already at work. Are you?
Does This Content Resonate?
Every organization has an Antagonist. Most leaders can’t name theirs.
After serving as a founder, facilitator, CEO, and chief of staff over the past 30 years, I know it’s not due to a lack of intelligence. It’s due to a lack of visibility.
So I built a short assessment to help you find it. In eight questions and less than five minutes, you’ll get a sense of where the friction in your organization is coming from. After that, if you like, we can jump on a free 30-minute call to discuss more.