Horrible Processes

When our processes become horrible

And when the Spirit calls us to the new

I was recently invited to speak at an event about technology and innovation.
And, preparing the content, I chose to share a process that my team and I built seventeen years ago.

At the time, it was bold, different, disruptive.
It opened doors, built trust, matured our service, and even defined who we became as a company.

During the presentation, I highlighted something that, today, I see as prophetic:

“The greatest innovation is inside each one of us.”
“Thanks to the Holy Spirit who searches all things, even the depths of God.”

At that moment, I was talking about mindset, creativity and professional autonomy.
But, looking at it now, I see that I was talking about something much bigger than processes.

I was saying that the new is not born from machines, platforms or methodologies, it is born from transformed people.

And, ironically, in that same presentation, I was sharing something that was once new, but is no longer.

The audience seemed to react well, and called it innovation.
And I was satisfied, genuinely.

Horrible processes

But, days later, a sentence I heard from the president of an insurance company, who had been to China, cut right through me:

“We start from the principle that our processes are horrible.”
“That is why we do not try to improve them, but to redo them.”

That unsettled me.
Because I realized that, for years, we sought to perfect what had been created, adjust it, organize it, fit new tools into old structures.

We did it well.
With intelligence.
With dedication.

But maybe we have reached the limit of that logic.

Maybe it is no longer about improving what exists,
but about allowing something completely new to be born.

The horrible personal process

And here came a personal, deeply spiritual realization:

Whoever thinks he is good does not need the Spirit.

Paul saw himself as “horrible”
and precisely for that reason he was transformed.

Not transformed into “a better version of himself”.
But into a new creation.

Paul was not living the improvement of the old life.
He was living the replacement of the old life.

That is why he spoke of:
dying,
being buried,
rising again,
walking in newness of life.

Not evolution,
not polishing,
not an upgrade.

New.

Realizing our horrible process

And, that day, I realized something simple and uncomfortable:

Our process is not bad.
It just belongs to a world that no longer exists.

It was a child of its time.
But it is not the father of the future.

And here there is a parallel that, to me, makes complete sense:

The Spirit does not improve the flesh.
He creates a new being.

In the same way:

The company does not need to optimize the past.
It needs to authorize the future.

It is not about making adjustments.
It is about allowing a leap.

And leaps demand detachment.

It hurts.
It hurts because it touches what we did well.
It hurts because it touches our identity.
It hurts because it touches our security.

But there is a pain greater than this:

The pain of staying in a place where there is no longer life.

And, maybe, that is where we are.

The innovation that brought us here is not the innovation that will take us forward.

The change we need is not incremental.
It is structural.

The new horrible processes

And so, this Monday, I shared with the team a simple, clear and bold vision for 2026:

Each one of us will need to start from zero.
Not as regression, but as rebirth.
Not as loss, but as possibility.

It is not “improving a little more”.
It is entering a new cycle.

And, for that, we need something Paul had:

• humility to recognize limits

• courage to embrace frailty

• and faith to walk in newness of life

He knew that, without the Spirit, he had nothing to offer.
And, for that reason, he offered space.

Maybe this is our moment too:

To recognize that what we did was good.
But that “good” is now too little.

That what has sustained us until now
is too small to carry what we have received within.

Because, in the end:

The greatest innovation remains inside us.

And when it matures within,
sooner or later, it demands to be born outside.

Conclusion

We no longer want to improve the process.
We want to create another one.

We no longer want to modernize the old.
We want to see the new be born.

We no longer want incremental efficiency.
We want transformative vision.

And, with humility, I say:

I do not know exactly what it will be like.
But I know it will not be built on patches.

It will be built on vision.
On courage.
On simplicity.
And on people willing to die to the old,
to live the new.

Learn more:
I am terrible, and that is wonderful

Amazing Grace: From Terrible to Wonderful