A few years ago, I walked out of a coaching session feeling oddly satisfied. The leader had been heard. The frustration had been named. The emotions had been handled with care. It was the kind of conversation most managers avoid entirely, so I counted it as a win.

Two weeks later, nothing had changed.

Same team tension. Same missed deadlines. Same quiet resentment. And the same leader telling me, with absolute sincerity, “We had such a good conversation.”

That was the day I re-learned an uncomfortable truth: support can become a substitute for progress.

I don’t mean support is bad. In any serious coaching relationship, support is oxygen. Without it, people get defensive. And defensiveness kills learning.

But there’s another version of support. One that isn’t oxygen. It’s anesthesia.

It sounds like: “That must be hard.” It looks like: “Take your time.” It feels like: “You’re doing your best.”

Sometimes, that’s exactly what someone needs in the moment. But I’ve watched leaders use that kind of language as a way to avoid the harder move. Naming the standard. Naming the gap. Naming the decision that actually has to be made.

The risk is subtle. When support becomes the destination, coaching turns into a pleasant ritual that protects the status quo.

The shift, for me, was learning to end supportive conversations with one clean pivot. Not a lecture. Not a framework. Just a single question that forces movement without turning aggressive:

“What does better look like next week, in observable terms?”

Not “improve communication.” Not “be more proactive.” Something concrete enough that the person can either do it or not.

When leaders learn this pivot, you can see it in the culture. Conversations get calmer and clearer at the same time. People stop performing emotionality to earn patience. They start performing behaviors that earn trust.

If that sounds like a small shift, it is.

That’s why it works.