Theory Is Not Change
Theory of change is well intentioned.
It helps groups align. It gives stakeholders a shared language. It helps orient everyone's efforts in roughly the same direction. But it does not create change. And too often, it quietly becomes a substitute for it.
The problem is right there in the name, theory.
The theory is treated as the thing. The solution. The path. The artifact that must be finished before action can begin. So the work becomes more theorizing. More workshops. More refinement. More validation. More socialization. More buy-in.
Months pass. Behavior does not change.
Theorizing is often framed as the missing ingredient. In practice, it is frequently the stall. This framing shows up clearly in common management advice, including this example from Harvard Business Review:
Develop a theory of change.
Once you’ve identified a specific behavior that you want to change, develop a theory of how you’re going to change that behavior. Often this is an iterative process of talking to stakeholders, identifying barriers, and reviewing the scientific literature. Like a doctor, you must make your own diagnosis.
None of this is wrong.
But notice where the weight sits. Diagnosis. Literature. Conversation. Action is absent, or deferred as a reward for good thinking. The doctor analogy is revealing, and it is also part of the problem.
Diagnosis assumes a knowable condition, a stable system, and a correct answer that can be identified before treatment begins. It suggests that if we think hard enough, gather enough information, and apply the right framework, the right intervention will become clear.
Change does not work that way.
Change is not something to be diagnosed and then prescribed. It is something to be probed, tested, and learned into. Systems are not patients lying still on a table. They respond, resist, adapt, and push back the moment action is taken. In this context, action is not the final step after diagnosis. Action is the diagnostic tool.
What is actually happening is learned by trying something small, seeing what shifts, and adjusting in response. Not by waiting for certainty, but by generating real-time conditions.
Again and again, organizations produce beautiful theories of change and then treat them as evidence of progress. The document becomes the milestone. The clarity becomes the accomplishment. And because it feels rigorous and responsible, it earns protection.
“We can’t act yet.”
“The theory isn’t finished.”
“We need more alignment.”
“One more round of validation.”
Meanwhile, nothing actually changes.
Real change is rarely linear in the way theory suggests. It comes from doing something concrete, encountering friction, adjusting, and recalibrating in the conditions people actually face, not the conceptual conditions imagined in advance. Action produces information that theory alone never will. Systems are not understood from a whiteboard. They are understood through contact with reality.
Delaying action in pursuit of a more complete theory does not reduce risk. It reallocates it. Away from decision-makers and onto the system itself, where learning is deferred and inertia is preserved. In this way, theories of change often promise control where none exists. They suggest that if enough thinking, mapping, and alignment happens, uncertainty can be managed before action is required.
In reality, they frequently do something else. They shift accountability into the future. Action is deferred. Risk is postponed. Responsibility is softened by process. And the moment where someone must actually decide and act keeps moving further away.
If we were more honest, many theories of change would be rebranded for how they are actually used:
A hypothesis of action
A first bet
A directional guess
A learning plan
At their best, they are not answers. They are starting points.
Change happens when people do something different tomorrow than they did today. That shift usually comes from signals, incentives, constraints, and practice, not from words in a document or language alone. This is not an argument to throw theory away. Shared understanding matters. Alignment matters. Clear intention matters.
But theory should be lightweight and disposable. It should exist to get to action faster, not to delay it. If a theory of change is not being tested through behavior as it is developed, not after, it is not about change yet. It is just a theory. A theory of change that is never tested in behavior is like a business plan that never meets a customer. It can be coherent, rigorous, and admired, and still tell us nothing about whether anything will actually work.
So here is the challenge.
If we are going to talk about a theory of change, we cannot stop at the theory. Name the first bet, the directional guess about what might move behavior. Say it plainly. Then take your first step, the concrete action that will test that bet. Not another workshop. Not another round of validation. An action that creates real consequences and real learning.
Direction without action is just hope. Action without direction is just motion. Change requires both.
The work is not to perfect the theory. The work is to place the bet, take the step, and learn fast enough for change to actually happen. And if no action is named, no risk is taken, and no behavior changes.
If action is the diagnostic tool, what are we learning by theorizing instead of acting?
Footnote:
This framing reflects a broader management tradition, often associated with outlets like Harvard Business Review, in which change is approached primarily as a problem of diagnosis rather than interaction. That orientation works well in domains with relatively stable systems, repeatable conditions, and clear causal mechanisms. In social, institutional, or infrastructural contexts, however, the act of intervening is often the only reliable way to surface what actually matters. In these settings, delaying action in pursuit of a more complete theory does not reduce risk. It reallocates it, away from decision-makers and onto the system itself, where learning is deferred and inertia is preserved.