Yet a 2017 Gallup poll found that only 3 in 10 employees strongly agree with the statement that their opinions count at work. Gallup calculated that by “moving that ratio to six in 10 employees, organizations could realize a 27 percent reduction in turnover, a 40 percent reduction in safety incidents and a 12 percent increase in productivity.” That's why it's not enough for organizations to simply hire talent. If leaders want to unleash individual and collective talent, they must foster a psychologically safe climate where employees feel free to contribute ideas, share information, and report mistakes.

Bureaucratic organizations are inertial, incremental, and dispiriting. In a bureaucracy, the power to initiate change is vested in a few senior leaders. When those at the top fall prey to denial, arrogance, and nostalgia, as they often do, the organization falters. That’s why deep change in a bureaucracy is usually belated and convulsive. Bureaucracies are also innovation-phobic. They are congenitally risk averse, and offer few incentives to those inclined to challenge the status quo. In a bureaucracy, being a maverick is a high-risk occupation. Worst of all, bureaucracies are soul crushing. Deprived of any real influence, employees disconnect emotionally from work. Initiative, creativity, and daring—requisites for success in the creative economy—often get left at home.

A former managing partner at McKinsey & Company expressed this view when he advised executives to focus their attention on the “2 percent [of employees] who are really going to drive [results.]” “It’s a very small proportion of people,” he argued, “who drive a lot of value.” When pressed, he admitted his assertion had “no regression analysis or analytics behind it.” It was, in other words, an untested assumption or, to be more accurate, a prejudice.

This sort of disdain for the average employee mirrors the hauteur of eighteenth-century aristocrats—and has the same stifling effect on creativity and initiative. Stunted freedom and upside yield stunted commitment and performance.

Perversely, the desire to avoid risk often magnifies it. Dumping money into big me-too projects with modest upside is a lot more perilous than seeding lots of early-stage ideas that are further out on the fringe. In the age of upheaval, incrementalism is the riskiest bet of all. What’s needed is a radical shift in how we think about experimentation. The goal isn’t simply to reduce the uncertainty around new products or get them to market faster, but to build an organization where everyone is working to extend the boundaries of what’s possible. That’s how an organization buys insurance against irrelevance.

The implications of this kind of leap to a company’s economic model can be devastating. In IBM’s case it meant the collapse of gross profit margins and the attendant changes we had to engineer to lower our cost structure without compromising our effectiveness.

Yet the hardest part of these decisions was neither the technological nor economic transformations required. It was changing the culture—the mindset and instincts of hundreds of thousands of people who had grown up in an undeniably successful company, but one that had for decades been immune to normal competitive and economic forces.