I was listening to an interview between Jamie Smart and Steve Chandler the other day. Steve was talking about outcome goals and process goals and it got me thinking about how often we lean heavily on the outcome.
It’s a familiar pattern. We sit down, often at the end of the year or when something in life nudges us, and we think about what we want to be, do or have at some point in the future.
On the surface that seems sensible. It gives us direction. Something to aim at.
But what I’ve noticed, both in myself and in the people I work with, is how easily that focus on the outcome can start to work against us.
Because the outcome lives at a distance.
When we measure ourselves against something far away progress can feel invisible. You don’t suddenly feel fitter after a few workouts. You don’t instantly see a full pipeline after a handful of calls. From where you’re standing it can look like nothing is happening.
That’s often where motivation dips. It’s where doubt creeps in, and it’s where people quietly move on from the goal altogether, or decide that goal-setting just isn’t for them.
The distinction Steve was pointing to – the part that’s been useful for me – is the shift towards process goals.
Outcome goals still matter – they set the direction. But process goals are where movement actually happens. They bring things back to something concrete. Something you can do, repeat and measure in the short term.
Instead of “get fit”, it becomes showing up for a certain number of sessions each week.
Instead of “grow the business”, it becomes making a set number of calls or having a set number of conversations.
Instead of “become a better player”, it becomes the number of passes, kicks, or drills you put in.
I see this a lot with the girls’ rugby team. The biggest improvements don’t come from talking about winning matches or league position. They come from the repetition of simple actions: turning up, practising, making the next pass, getting back into position. Over time those small things compound and often we reach out goal quicker than we’d expected, or we learn more that we hoped.
There’s also something important that shifts psychologically.
When the focus is purely on the outcome, the comparison is always between where you are now and where you think you should be. And that gap can feel discouraging.
Process goals change the reference point.
Instead of asking, “Am I there yet?”, the question becomes, “Did I do what I said I would do today or this week?”
It’s a quieter measure, but a more reliable one.
Over time, it gives you something tangible to build on. You can adjust it, increase it, refine it. If progress isn’t showing up in the way you expected, you’ve got something to look at. You can ask whether the volume is right, whether the approach needs tweaking, or whether the process itself needs to change.
None of that is really possible when everything is tied up in a distant outcome.
I’m still working this through myself, but it does seem that when goals start to feel heavy or frustrating, it’s often a sign that the balance is off.
The outcome is still doing its job… it’s pointing somewhere.
But the real work, and most of the momentum, sits much closer in.
In the reps.
In the small, repeatable actions.
In the next thing that can actually be done.
Patrick Hickman 