The faint echo of a hopeful knock still vibrated in the air of the 8th floor, long after the hand had retreated. Not on the CEO’s physical door, of course-that frosted glass expanse on the 38th floor remained inviolable, guarded by an invisible force field of executive assistants and packed calendars. This was the virtual knock, the email sent at 8:48 PM, composed over eight evenings, detailing an idea promising millions-8,888,888 to be exact. The sender, a project lead, felt defiant optimism, fueled by the CEO’s persistent pronouncements of an “open door policy.” He imagined good ideas piercing the corporate stratosphere. A foolish fantasy, he knew, but the policy had been repeated so many times, he’d begun to believe it.

The reply, 28 hours later, wasn’t from the CEO. It was from his executive assistant, a woman of legendary efficiency. Polite, almost excessively so, it thanked him for his “valuable contribution” then surgically suggested he “follow the proper channels” and “raise this with his direct manager.” The invisible wall, once merely perceived, now stood concrete. The “open door” wasn’t a doorway; it was a beautifully painted mural. A comfortable fiction, staged for the audience below and the lead actor above. It allowed the CEO to sleep soundly, believing himself accessible, while messy reality remained neatly packaged, far from his desk, booked for the next 88 days, minimum.

The Power of Distance

This isn’t just about a busy calendar. It’s about the subtle, insidious way power creates distance. It’s a leadership myth that insulates, not connects. The “open door policy” becomes a verbal placebo, assuring staff their voices matter, while creating a system filtering those voices through layers of hierarchy, diluting original intent. I once believed in the genuine intent, that leaders truly *wanted* to hear from the frontline. Perhaps intellectually, but practicalities make true accessibility an impossibility-a beautiful lie they tell themselves.

The Courier’s Perspective

Consider Ethan T., a medical equipment courier navigating 8 different hospitals, delivering everything from defibrillators to robotic arms, valued at $88,888. Ethan sees things: supply chain inefficiencies, repair delays, frustrations of staff. He once noticed a disposable syringe, used in 88% of procedures, consistently arriving eight hours late from a new vendor. The old vendor had a perfect 8 AM delivery record. He tried to tell his supervisor, who told him to tell his team lead, who said they’d “look into it” in 8 weeks. Ethan, seeing patient impact, drafted a meticulous email.

Ethan never heard back directly. Eight days later, a generic email from an assistant landed, thanking him for his “diligence,” assuring “all feedback is valued.” Late syringe deliveries continued for another 8 months until an audit exposed the vendor issue. Ethan’s idea wasn’t bad; the system wasn’t designed to receive it. The “open door” wasn’t for people like Ethan, whose daily grind offered unparalleled insights. This isn’t a criticism of executive assistants; they’re essential shock absorbers, making demanding schedules manageable. They block access out of necessity, following an unwritten playbook dictated by power and time.

A Gilded Cage

This isn’t new. A Wikipedia rabbit hole (88 minutes spent) reveals parallels in ancient court systems where petitions were filtered through countless scribes before reaching the monarch. The modern CEO, like the ancient king, often exists in a gilded cage, built by layers of protection for “strategic focus.” They operate under the illusion of charting the course, while the real currents-daily struggles, brilliant micro-innovations-remain unseen, translated into abstract data points rarely conveying full truth.

There’s a specific kind of frustration that settles in when you’re told your voice matters, but every attempt to use it meets with a polite, institutional dead end.

The Illusion of Intent

The greatest mistake leaders make isn’t that they *don’t* want to hear from employees, but that they believe the current system *allows* them to hear effectively. They confuse an invitation to speak with genuine accessibility. An “open door” implies immediacy. Most organizations offer a long, winding hallway with locked doors and answering machines promising “get back to you within 48 hours.” The outcome is always the same: vital information stagnates, ideas wither, employee engagement plummets. After 8 months of being ignored, even Ethan T. stops knocking.

The Alternative: Open Strategy

If the open door policy is a myth, what’s the alternative? How bridge the divide between the 8th floor and the 38th? The answer isn’t dismantling hierarchy, but redefining information flow and strategic priority communication. It’s creating an openness not dependent on a single individual’s calendar or an assistant’s filtering. It’s about systemic transparency.

This is where a transparent strategy execution system becomes revolutionary. Imagine a system where CEO’s priorities, goals, and progress aren’t locked away or quarterly conveyed. Imagine these as living, breathing elements, visible to everyone, from the 8th floor project lead to Ethan T. in his delivery van. Such a system doesn’t just push information down; it creates a framework where feedback, ideas, and concerns map directly against visible objectives. When everyone understands the ‘why’ behind the ‘what,’ contributions focus, and leaders gain insight into strategy unfolding. It creates a different openness, built on shared understanding and clear direction. Intrafocus provides tools for this transformation, moving strategy from abstract documents to a dynamic, accessible system.

Restoring Agency

The genuine value isn’t just efficiency or alignment. It’s restoring agency and purpose. When Ethan T. sees his syringe delivery observation impacting a visible strategic objective-say, “Enhance Patient Care Efficiency by 8%”-his engagement shifts dramatically. He no longer feels like he’s shouting into a void. His contribution is measurable, visible, tied to company success. Leaders aren’t just *saying* they have an open door; they’re *showing* it through how strategy is managed. They acknowledge their time is finite, but their desire for relevant input isn’t.

This isn’t a criticism of dedicated leaders working 88-hour weeks. It’s an observation that tools for connection in large organizations haven’t kept pace. We need systems that enable connection, not just policies that promise it. We need to evolve beyond the comforting myth of the “open door” to the empowering reality of the “open strategy.” Because in the end, it’s not about how many times a leader *says* they’re accessible, but how many tangible, measurable ways they *are* accessible. And that, I’ve observed in 8 years, makes all the difference.