Run this the next time your strategy meeting ends with a neat SWOT… and an awkward “So… what now?” Keep SWOT to 15 minutes, then force the real work: choose. If nobody can say the next step in one clear sentence by the end, you don’t have a plan—you only have boxes.
Years ago, I was invited to sit in on a “strategy session” of a mayor. The room was full of his people—mostly barangay chairpersons who had worked with him, supported him, and knew how to read the air in a room when the boss is present. You could feel it right away: this wasn’t just a meeting to think, it was also a meeting to stay safe.
The facilitator was a professor from the city college. He spoke well, he carried authority, and he had that calm confidence of someone who has done this many times. Someone told me he was also the city administrator, which explained why everyone listened carefully when he talked. He began the session the way many “strategy sessions” begin.
“Let’s start with a SWOT,” he said, writing the four letters on the board.
And the room nodded, as the ritual had begun.
It Looked Like Strategy Work
For the next two hours, the professor did what good professors do. He asked detailed questions, captured answers neatly, and tried to connect ideas in a way that felt intelligent. He would point to the board and explain how a threat can intensify a weakness, or how a strength could be used to grab an opportunity.
If you were watching from the outside, you might think: Wow, this is robust. This is real strategy work.
But if it was so strong, why did the room feel heavier by the minute?
That question matters because meetings can look productive while quietly failing the people inside them.
The Problem Wasn’t the Tool. It Was the Room.
The faces told the truth. People were staring at the board the way people stare at a long form they don’t fully understand—like they’re trying to be cooperative without being exposed. You could see the forehead lines forming. You could see the side glances that said, “How do we answer this?”
Then came the part that always makes SWOT sessions tricky: the “W.”
The professor looked at the group. “Okay. Weaknesses. What are our weaknesses?”
There was a pause. Someone finally offered something mild, something almost harmless. “Maybe… people don’t always understand our programs.”
The professor smiled quickly, as if he needed to protect the tone. “Yes, yes. That’s common. It’s not really a weakness. It’s more like a communication issue.”
Another person added a “weakness” that sounded like a compliment wearing a disguise. “We’re doing many projects, so sometimes the team gets stretched.”
Again, the professor nodded. “That’s because you’re active. You’re doing a lot. That’s a good sign. We just need better coordination.”
You can probably feel what was happening.
A weakness would appear, and within seconds, it would be softened, reframed, and polished until it no longer sounded like a weakness. And I understood why. The mayor was right there. Nobody wanted to say the thing they hear outside the room—the complaints, the frustrations, the blunt truths—because saying the wrong thing could feel like disrespect, or worse, betrayal.
So the SWOT became a dance. Everyone is trying to “say something real” without stepping on toes.
Six in the Evening… and Still No Direction
Two hours became more than two hours. The discussion stretched. The board filled up. The professor kept “fixing” the logic—strengths linked to opportunities, threats linked to weaknesses. The work looked impressive. The room looked tired. And by the time it was nearing 6:00 PM, they had a lot of information and a very complete set of boxes.
So what did they have to show for it?
That’s when I heard the line that tells you everything.
One of the barangay captains leaned toward me and asked, quietly, almost apologetically, “Sir… what’s the next step?”
Another one followed, not joking, not complaining—just honestly confused. “We wrote so many things. But what do we actually do?”
That moment is why I say SWOT is often treated like strategy, but it rarely produces strategy. It produces a list. It produces a discussion. It produces a feeling of progress. But it does not automatically produce a choice, and without a choice, nothing moves.
Here’s the Trap Most Teams Fall Into
People come into a strategic planning session expecting a plan. They assume the four boxes will magically turn into action steps, as if naming strengths and weaknesses is already the same as deciding what to do next.
So they walk out with “data,” but they don’t walk out with direction.
And if you’re a leader, that’s dangerous. Because when there’s no direction, the team defaults to what is familiar. Same habits. Same priorities. Same noise. The SWOT becomes a memory, not a shift.
What SWOT Is Actually Good For
Now, let’s be fair.
SWOT has value, but only if you treat it like what it is: a snapshot. A quick way to surface what people see inside and outside the organization. It’s a warm-up. It helps you notice things you might ignore. It helps you get the room on the same page.
But it is not the workout, and it is definitely not the finish line.
So what turns SWOT from “useful” into “useless”?
Usually, it’s time and volume. Too much discussion. Too many items. Too much collecting. Not enough choosing.
Shrink the SWOT, Force the Choice
If you want SWOT to stop being a ritual, shrink it and force it to lead to decisions.
The biggest mistake is thinking you need to fill every box with everything you know. You don’t. Even the act of choosing what to put in the box is already strategic behavior, because it forces you to ask, “Which of these actually matters most?”
So instead of doing a two-hour SWOT, do a 15-minute one, and make it strict.
One or two items per box.
Not the most impressive.
The most consequential.
The things that will change your decisions if they are true.
Then immediately ask the question that SWOT often avoids: “Given this, what will we do—and what will we stop doing?”
Because strategy is not a list of factors. Strategy is a commitment.
It sounds like, “We will focus here.”
And it also sounds like, “We will not chase that.”
A Simple Rule You Can Use Next Meeting
The next time you facilitate a session and someone says, “Let’s do a SWOT,” answer with something like this:
“Sure. But we’ll keep it short. Fifteen minutes for SWOT. Then we spend the rest of the time choosing.”
And if, at the end of the meeting, nobody can say the next step in one clear sentence, don’t pretend you have a plan.
You only have boxes.
