A few months into a coaching engagement I asked a woman who had just made chief financial officer to describe her team. She talked for a while. She named the controller, the two directors under him, the analyst she had pulled over from another group because he asked good questions, the person she was afraid of losing. She was warm about every one of them. When she finished I asked whether the other executives, the ones with offices along the same corridor, had entered her mind while she was answering. They had not. Her team was the eleven people who reported up to her. The rest were closer to weather, conditions she read on the way to doing her real job.
She is not unusual. When Gartner asked senior executives across two surveys in 2023 and 2024 which group they think of as their primary team, only 31% named the C-suite1. Most pictured the function they run and the people below them on the chart. The room the organization designates as its leadership team, the one meant to set direction for the whole enterprise, is for most of its members a meeting they attend rather than a team they belong to.
Why the best functional leader rarely shows up as a team player
Think about how a person earns a chief title. For fifteen or twenty years you are rewarded for being excellent inside a boundary, the best marketer in the building or the operator nobody could rattle. Your reviews measure that function and your bonus tracks it. Your reputation gets built by defending its budget against the other functions reaching for the same money. The whole apparatus teaches one lesson and teaches it well, which is to win for your area. Then the title changes and the unspoken assignment inverts. Now the organization needs you to sometimes lose for your area so the enterprise can win. Nobody says this out loud at the promotion. There is no handoff. You are given a larger version of the job you already had and left to notice, or not, that it has become a different job.
I felt the pull of this in a strategy simulation I went through a while back, where each team ran a company across several years of decisions. The groups that anchored hardest on a single bet, certain their read of the market was the read, tended to finish behind the groups that kept studying the whole board. Loyalty to your own thesis feels like conviction from the inside. From the outside it looks like a person tending one corner of a system they have stopped seeing whole.
What a coalition costs
When the people at the top identify with their functions first, the enterprise ends up with no owner. Each chief owns a slice and defends it ably. Decisions that should be made for the whole get made as negotiations between territories, and the negotiation gets settled by whoever holds the most leverage that quarter rather than by what the organization actually needs. Work that runs across functions stalls, because it belongs to everyone and therefore to no one in particular. The strategy that reads cleanly on the CEO's slide comes apart into a dozen local strategies, each of them defensible, none of them adding up.
You can watch it happen around one decision. A pricing change that helps the enterprise might ask the product group to give something up so that sales can carry a cleaner quarter, with finance holding a messier forecast in the meantime. Inside a real team that trade is just a conversation. A coalition turns it into a standoff, and the change dies in committee while everyone stays perfectly reasonable.
A group of talented executives who each protect their own function behaves like a coalition, and coalitions manage tension between territories. What they rarely produce is the thing an enterprise needs most from its top, a single point of view about where the whole is going.
The reason this is hard to catch from the outside is that nothing about it looks broken. Every chief is performing. Every function has its numbers. The trouble lives in the space between them, in the decisions that never get made cleanly and the bets that nobody will put their name on.
The work is a change of allegiance
This is why a workshop on collaboration seldom moves it. What the shift asks for goes deeper than a skill you can add on a Tuesday. It is a change in who you understand yourself to be at work. For a long time your identity was fused to the function you built, and that fusion was rewarded at every rung on the way up. Loosening it feels like a loss, because it is one. You are being asked to let the enterprise outrank the thing that made you. Most executives have never been walked through that, and a good number do not realize it is the actual assignment. When I work with a senior leader here, the useful question is rarely how do we collaborate better. It runs closer to whose success would you feel in your gut as your own. Until the honest answer takes in the people down the hall, the team at the top stays a label on a chart.
So here is the thing worth carrying into your next leadership meeting. If someone asked the people in that room to name their team, how many of them would name the room they were sitting in?
If the idea of a top team that behaves like a coalition rings true, the book digs into where that pattern comes from and what actually loosens it. James Wright and I wrote Agile Sucks! (When You Do It Wrong) around the difference between accountability you can assign on paper and ownership people carry because they mean it, and the chapters on leading beyond your own function are the ones this argument grows out of. If you want the longer version of how a group of capable leaders becomes a team that owns the whole, the link is right below.
Read Agile Sucks! (When You Do It Wrong) →References
- Moreno, A. (2025, November). Does your C-suite really operate as a team? Harvard Business Review, reporting Gartner research. The 31% figure comes from two Gartner surveys fielded during 2023 and 2024: one of 200 U.S.-based CXOs, and one of 303 global CEOs and 153 other global senior executives. https://hbr.org/2025/11/does-your-c-suite-really-operate-as-a-team ↩