The Squirrel

Viewpoint on Spontaneity, Focus, and the Cost of Switching

There is a leadership pattern I see often, and I am seeing it more frequently than ever.

I call it the Squirrel.

This is the leader energized by spontaneity. They move easily from idea to idea, conversation to conversation, task to task. Their attention shifts quickly. They notice what others miss, especially opportunities, risks, and possibilities. They are rarely bored. They are almost always stimulated.

In today’s environment, this pattern makes sense.

We live in a world of constant input. Notifications, texts, meetings, dashboards, headlines, and expectations compete for attention all day long. The pace of work has accelerated. So has the volume of decisions required. Many leaders are not unfocused. They are overstimulated.

As a result, more people are operating like squirrels.

I have grown to admire leaders wired this way, perhaps because my own natural need for that level of stimulation is low. We are often drawn to our opposites. Where I prefer sustained focus and longer arcs of attention, the squirrel brings energy, adaptability, and momentum.

At their best, squirrels are a gift.

They see connections quickly. They pivot without fear. They generate ideas at a pace that keeps teams moving. In moments of uncertainty or transition, they can be the catalyst that prevents stagnation. They are often the first to test something new, raise a hand, or challenge a stale approach.

But like every strength, spontaneity has a shadow.

Many squirrels take pride in their ability to multitask. They move so fluidly between activities that it feels efficient. In reality, our brains are not designed for true multitasking. What we call multitasking is rapid task switching, and every switch comes with a cost.

I remember a simple exercise where I was asked to write the numbers one through twenty six in a row, then the letters of the alphabet below it. Timed once, it went quickly. Then I was asked to alternate. One number, one letter, back and forth.

It took significantly longer.

Nothing about the content changed. Only the switching did.

Every time we shift focus, we pay a small cognitive toll. Time stretches. Accuracy drops. Energy drains. Squirrels are often so skilled at switching that the cost goes unnoticed.

Until it does not.

When squirrels are operating with clarity, their energy drives progress. When they are under pressure or lacking direction, that same energy can scatter. Priorities blur. Follow through weakens. Others may experience them as reactive or unfocused, even when their intent is positive.

The challenge is not spontaneity. The challenge is direction.

Without clear priorities, squirrels can chase every movement in the trees. Without awareness, they may not realize how frequently they change course or how that shift affects those around them. Teams that depend on stability can feel disoriented when the energy shifts too often.

The goal is not to cage the squirrel.

The goal is to give it a path.

Structure does not eliminate creativity. It channels it. Clear priorities do not suppress spontaneity. They protect it from becoming distraction. When energy and direction align, the squirrel becomes a powerful force for growth rather than a source of friction.

It is worth noticing the squirrels around you. It is also worth asking whether there is a squirrel in you. Spontaneity is not the problem. Lack of awareness is.

Most leadership patterns are not flaws. They are strengths without guardrails.

And recognizing that is usually where the most useful conversations begin.