I was recently talking with an Executive Director and asked about her program. She looked at me apologetically and said that the model underpinning her work was complicated. It was developed by a psychologist and integrated a few different bodies of research. Most of the staff didn’t really understand it. She was regularly corrected when she got it wrong.
“Weird, right?” she said.
Not weird at all. In my work, this situation—an expert-creates a model that staff can’t explain or implement accurately— is relatively common, which is perhaps why I get called in. The situation is inevitable when smart, committed experts in their respective fields operationalize their ideas in the form of a nonprofit.
Fortunately, there’s a fix. It starts by understanding the difference between physics and engineering.
Physics is the study of how the natural world works.
Engineering is the application of that knowledge to design and build useful things.
A model created by an expert is like physics—it’s grounded in research and explains how something works. In the case of nonprofits, most often it is research anchored in psychology, behavioral science, education, or social work.
For example, early in my consulting practice, a founder described a psychological treatment approach focused on the gradual exploration of a person’s experience—“like peeling back the layers of an onion.” Because it worked well in a therapeutic setting, she wanted to apply the same concept to staff training. A therapy vibe influenced their organizational culture, shaping how meetings were run, how feedback was given, and how conflict was addressed.
The research behind therapeutic approaches doesn’t necessarily transfer to staff training or organizational development where HR realities, financial constraints, and organizational goals come into play.
In other words, a research-based model provides a powerful foundation. But for it to be sustainable in a nonprofit setting, it needs to be engineered—translated into a practical philosophy that guides everyday decisions.
This can be hard for founders to understand. There is an existential commitment to fidelity to the model because it is the foundation on which the nonprofit was built. It is the “why” behind the organization’s “what” and “how.”
With care and creativity, however, we can turn complex models into clear, doable practices that staff understand, trust, and use.
How to make your model doable for others
1. Say it simply.
Boil the big idea down to one or two plain-language sentences. Summarize it in a logic model so there’s a clear causal connection between the parts. Sketch it. If you can capture the big idea and its parts on a piece of paper, you can probably explain it to someone new to the organization.
2. Make it practical.
Name where the model actually shows up in your daily work. This is where theory meets implementation. How does the model get experienced by clients or people served? How well do staff members reflect the model in their routine work? How does the model guide responses during moments of challenge? What is required within the model, and what is optional?
3. Get a fresh perspective.
Ask someone outside your team to repeat back what they hear. This helps reveal assumptions and clarify what needs more translation. As an outsider, I often resort to my instructional design mantra: If I understand it and can explain it, I can teach it so they learn it. (And if I can’t… we need to talk.)
4. Match the research to the setting.
Ask: Is this the right body of research for the work we’re trying to do? Sometimes the task isn’t simplifying the model but identifying the right research for the context. That means anchoring in adult learning research in learning settings, or organizational development research in organizational situations. And when research is missing or insufficient for your setting, it means there’s a gap to fill, and possibly new research to seek out or contribute to.
5. Allow the model to evolve.
This last point is the hardest because it introduces change. A model may begin with a funder, founder, or expert—but it won’t thrive unless others can make it their own. That may mean stepping back from an original framing of the model or expression of the theories upon which the model is based. Just as a grandchild reflects both the nature and nurture of a grandparent, a model lives on when its core ideas are adapted, adjusted, and renewed by those who carry it forward.
If a leap from theory to practice doesn’t happen, the costs are real. Staff get frustrated or burned out when they’re expected to implement something they don’t understand. Turnover rises. Training becomes an expensive and never-ending effort to re-teach what could have been made clear. Funders struggle to “get” what you do.
In an essay celebrating the life of A Contemporary Theater (ACT)’s former Executive Director Carlo Scandiuzzi, Kurt Beattie wrote: “[Carlo] had the wisdom to know that we are all temporary, but that institutions, if they remain vital, can serve generations of exciting artists and audiences beyond us.”
We need both physicists and engineers. We need the researchers and visionaries who build thoughtful, evidence-based models. And we need the practitioners who translate those models into real-world tools, routines, and relationships.