What If Your Zone of Genius Is Costing Your Team Theirs?

Most of us are familiar with the idea of the zone of genius — a term popularized by Gay Hendricks’ The Big Leap to describe the sweet spot where your natural abilities, deepest passions, and highest contribution converge. It’s not just what you’re good at. It’s what lights you up. The thing you were built to do.

But in practice, zone of genius isn’t a universal reality. It’s a resourced one.

And if you're building an organization where only a select few get to stay in that zone—yourself included—then you’re not building a sustainable culture. You’re building a hierarchy disguised as alignment.

Because under capitalism, zone of genius has become a privilege—not a standard. Not a right. Not a sustainable practice we make room for across teams or organizations. It’s something reserved for the well-supported few.

And for someone to stay in their genius, someone else usually has to clean the toilets.

That’s not a metaphor.

A few years ago, Rachel Hollis made headlines for posting about the woman who cleans her house. Rachel proudly said she works her ass off so she doesn’t have to do tasks like clean the toilet. She was trying to sound motivational. Empowered. Like she was owning her ambition. But instead, it landed as condescension. Because what she revealed—without meaning to—was this: her freedom depends on someone else’s labor. Her genius is possible because someone else is doing the work she doesn’t want to do.

And that’s the problem.

Zone of genius isn’t always harder work. But it is often more resourced work. It requires time, space, stability. A nervous system that isn’t on constant high alert. And under capitalism, that kind of spaciousness is only afforded to a few.

“Zone of genius,” while originally intended as a tool for personal clarity, has become another productivity buzzword. A shorthand that says: find what you’re best at, stay in your lane, and delegate the rest. It sounds strategic. Efficient. Scalable.

But it also quietly reinforces a hierarchy: some people get to do the meaningful, expansive work. Everyone else holds the bag.

And if you’re a founder and you’re not paying attention—you’ll reinforce that too.

The truth no one likes to say out loud is this: most people aren’t allowed to live in their zone of genius. Not because they don’t know what it is—but because the systems they work inside don’t make space for it.

Capitalism doesn’t reward alignment. It rewards adaptability. It wants you to be versatile, available, and endlessly useful—because that makes you easier to manage. Easier to monetize. Easier to burn out and replace.

So instead of designing our work around our gifts, we design around need. Around urgency. Around the gaps no one else is willing to fill.

Your team becomes full of multipurpose leaders. The people who can hold it all. Fix it all. Do it all. Not because that’s what they’re built for—but because it’s what your system has come to expect.

And then you wonder why turnover rises. Why people feel underutilized and burned out. Why you, as the founder, are still stuck holding everything.

Because here’s the other truth: the "zone of genius" only exists for some people. Usually the people with enough power to offload everything else.

To live in your zone of genius, someone else has to handle your overflow. Your logistics. Your errands. Your inbox. Your bathroom.

That’s not genius. That’s hierarchy.

And if your alignment depends on someone else’s exhaustion… it’s not actually alignment. It’s extraction.

We don’t talk about that part when we evangelize “do what you love.” We don’t talk about who’s subsidizing the freedom. We don’t talk about how many people are working three jobs to survive, let alone “live their purpose.”

The data backs this up:

Only 32% of U.S. employees report being engaged at work (Gallup, 2024).

In the UK, 79% of workers report experiencing burnout, with 35% saying it’s frequent (Spill, 2024).

This is what happens when we pretend zone of genius is only about ambition. When we act like alignment is something you earn. When we sell the dream of freedom without telling the truth about whose labor is subsidizing it.

Because the reality is: zone of genius isn’t about who works hardest. It’s about who’s allowed to work in a way that’s aligned.

And for most people—especially those with marginalized identities—alignment is treated like a luxury. Like a reward for bootstraps and grind. Not something everyone deserves access to by design.

That story resonates with a lot of high-achieving women, femmes, and historically undervalued humans who are learning to ask for help and protect their time.

But it also reveals something deeper: the way our systems assume that for one person to be "in purpose," someone else has to pick up the pieces.

That’s not a flaw of character. That’s a function of capitalism.

And if you’re a founder who doesn’t name that—you’re at risk of recreating the very hierarchies you say you’re trying to liberate yourself from.

Because a world where only some people get to live in their zone of genius is not a visionary world. It’s just a more polished version of the one we already have.

But what if you built teams, organizations, and cultures that made room for everyone’s genius—not just the loudest or the most privileged or the best at marketing it?

The idea is beautiful. Necessary, even.

But like so many self-actualization frameworks, it often skips a step: access.

A few years ago, I was talking with a mentor who shared that one of the highest-paid people at their company wasn’t a a strategist or even a senior leader. It was the CEO’s executive assistant.

Why?

Because he was extraordinary at what he did. He could anticipate needs before they were named. He ran the calendar like a Fortune 500 general. He made everything—and I mean everything—work better.

His zone of genius wasn’t flashy.

But it was essential.

And because it was valued—really valued—he was paid accordingly. Not as an afterthought. Not as someone "just keeping things organized." But as someone whose excellence made the entire system possible.

That’s the dream.

A world where every person’s genius is seen, supported, and compensated. Where contribution doesn’t have to be glamorous to be respected. And where alignment isn’t reserved for a privileged few, but becomes part of our collective infrastructure.

But maybe the problem isn’t that some people are in their genius while others support them.

Maybe the problem is that under capitalism, that arrangement is fixed.

Because in nature, it’s not.

In a hive, the queen isn’t a CEO. She’s not the smartest or most strategic. She doesn’t bark orders or manage performance reviews. She exists to play her role — while every other bee plays theirs. And when her time is up, the hive adapts. No one is permanent. No one is above. The system works because each role is essential, and no one is shamed for doing theirs.

In nature, genius isn’t a job title. It’s a season.

Birds migrate. Trees shed. Bears rest. And no one questions their worth when they do.

What if you built organizations that operated like ecosystems?

Where genius was something we moved in and out of. Where care wasn’t a personal responsibility, but a shared one. Where rest wasn’t earned, alignment wasn’t exceptional, and value wasn’t only measured in output.

What if your genius wasn’t a hustle to prove, but a cycle to honor?

What if the question wasn’t “How do I stay in my genius?”

But “How do we build systems that let everyone rise into theirs—when it’s their season to lead?”

Zone of genius shouldn’t be a luxury. It should be a collective standard. But under capitalism, only a privileged few are resourced, supported, and allowed to stay in their genius, while others are expected to shape-shift, over-function, and sacrifice their needs to uphold it.

True genius flourishes not in isolation, but through systems of collective care.

That’s what I explored with Amina AlTai in Episode 2 of COO-fessions. Amina is an executive coach, former marketing agency founder, and the author of The Ambition Trap. She’s coined the term purposeful ambition to describe what it means to pursue impact from alignment instead of urgency. We talked about the intersections of genius, capitalism, and care—and what it would look like to build organizations that actually support the people inside them.

If you’re a founder asking, “Why doesn’t my team feel more empowered?” or “Why doesn’t the culture feel like it matches the mission?”—this episode will give you something to chew on.

🎧 Episode 2 → Beyond Burnout: Why Capitalism Fears Your Zone of Genius

Come listen. Then forward it to a fellow founder who also knows: this isn’t working.

xo,
Brittany