Systems That Stick

I was on a call with a client—let’s call him Jake—when he pulled out a stack of papers. Some typed and clean.. but many had crap written all over them on his desk.
Scribbled processes,
half-baked ideas,
a mess of good intentions.

His team wasn’t touching them, heck… they didn’t even know they existed and he was drowning.

If your systems don’t stick, they’re nothing.

Let’s unpack how Jake turned that chaos into something real.

Jake used to run on “systems” that were more like wishful thinking. Notes stuck to his monitor, steps floating in his head, polite hints he’d drop in team meetings.

His crew ignored them, and he paid for it—rework, missed deadlines, a gnawing frustration that kept him up.

One job tanked hard because nobody checked the client’s specs. Two grand gone, all because his “process” was a Post-it that got lost in the shuffle. It wasn’t until he gave those systems some grit that they started holding weight.

Systems are the second phase in what I call The S3 Code. Flip it into gear, and you’ve got something simple, clear, mandatory—no fluff, just results. That’s how Jake dragged his operation from mayhem to steady. It’s not about being slick; it’s about making it stick.

Jake’s Systems Were a Wreck

When Jake first came to me, his processes were a punchline. He’d scratch out a few steps, pin them somewhere, and hope for the best. His team? They’d nod, then do whatever felt right. He’d find out when a job went late or a client called fuming.

That $2,000 flop wasn’t the worst—just the loudest wake-up call. He’d grit his teeth, patch the holes, and wonder why nothing clicked.

He told me about it over coffee—well, virtual coffee. “I’ve got systems,” he said, “but they’re like ghosts. Nobody uses them… much less sees them.”

I could hear the edge in his voice.

He wasn’t mad at his team—he was mad at the mess.
Those systems had no spine.
It took some hard truth to see they needed teeth, not just paper.

The Second Phase

That’s where The S3 Code comes in—three phases, and systems are number two. (The rest? Another time.)

Get the Systems phase in gear by keeping it dead simple,
crystal clear,
and non-negotiable.
No sprawling manuals, no dusty binders.
Just a few moves that deliver.

Jake didn’t need a fancy overhaul. Complexity’s a trap—he needed commitment. I told him: make it so straightforward they’d feel dumb skipping it, then stand by it. Half the fight is deciding it’s not optional. The other half is building it to last.

How Jake Made It Stick

Here’s what we did.

I told Jake to pick one process that mattered—something he leaned on, like job prep.
He went with that.
We turned it into a checklist,
short and sharp,
five steps max.

His version:
“Confirm the time,
pack the tools,
text the client,
check the address,
roll out.”

No frills, just the core.

Then he trained his team. Not some big presentation—he sat them down and said, “This is the rule, not a maybe.” He walked them through it, step by step, like he was showing a kid how to stack blocks. Made it so plain they couldn’t dodge it.

Now the hard part: he enforced it. For a week, he checked every day. Did they follow it? If not, why? He tweaked it when it stumbled—turns out texting the client was a hassle, so he switched it to a quick call. But he didn’t let it slide. By day seven, he saw what stuck. His crew nailed the tools and the call, even if the address check lagged. Progress. He built on it.

He told me about the first few days. “Total mess,” he said. “One guy forgot the call, another packed the wrong kit.” He wanted to pull his hair out. But he stuck with it—checked in, nudged them, smoothed the rough spots. By the end of the week, jobs were prepped clean. No more last-minute scrambles. That’s when he knew: it doesn’t have to be perfect—it just has to hold.

The Raw Payoff

The win wasn’t the checklist.
It was the grind.
Jake hammered it until it stuck.

He’s no process guru—he’s just too stubborn to let chaos run the show. When it clicked, he wasn’t chasing his tail anymore. He had a system that worked, even when he was fried.

A couple weeks back, he had a rush job. Old Jake would’ve been a wreck—yelling, winging it, hoping. New Jake? The system kicked in. His team knew the drill: confirm, pack, call, check, go. Done by lunch, client grinning, no panic. That’s what sticking does—it turns question marks into periods.

Why It Lands

This is why I keep beating the binary drum—
If,
Then,
Else.

It’s not clean, it’s not polished, but it’s real.

I’ve been scribbling newsletters for a few years now—
some weeks they are sharp,
some weeks it’s a ramble.

I show up anyway.
Started when I was green, still doing it now while I wrestle this business gig.

Jake’s not some flawless operator.
He’s not built that way.
Plans drift,
steps fumble,
and half the time he’s just swinging.

But systems—these scrappy, no-nonsense ones—keep him steady. If he’s got a process that holds, then he can get stuff done, even when the day’s a slog. Else, when it’s rolling, he rides that wave and builds something bigger.

That’s the deal. Not that Jake’s got it all locked down—or me, for that matter—but that you don’t need to. Show up. Mess up. Fix it. Keep going. Business isn’t about perfection—it’s about finding what works and making it stick, one rough step at a time.

So what’s your play? Got a process that’s more hope than habit? Pick it, strip it down, make it real. See what holds.