Why Obvious Problems Don’t Get Fixed in a Pipe Band

Seeing an issue versus owning it

I walked into a rehearsal session recently to talk through a problem any band should have caught long before it landed on a calendar.

For weeks, we’d struggled with consistency. Tunes learned unevenly. Transitions rough. Tempo drifting. Everyone felt it on the floor, everyone heard it in the circle, and everyone knew rehearsal time kept slipping away without real progress.

On paper, the explanation sounded simple: people weren’t preparing the same way outside rehearsal.

Annoying, but fixable.

Ten minutes into the conversation, a deeper issue surfaced. Music lived across folders, emails, old recordings, and memory. Expectations existed, but workflows didn’t. Preparing properly felt heavier than it needed to be.

Still fixable.

And honestly, this kind of friction should have been addressed long before it required a group discussion.

What began as a quick check-in about preparation turned into a conversation about simplifying how music, recordings, and expectations move through the band.

Which makes sense. Leadership includes removing friction.

What caught me off guard was what sat underneath the surface.

Everyone recognized the problem. Everyone agreed frustration existed. Yet no one had stepped forward to take responsibility for fixing it.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth:

When a problem stays visible, shared, and unresolved, the issue rarely lives in music, tools, or structure. The issue lives in ownership.

Music systems were imperfect, sure. Still, they weren’t the real barrier. The real gap came from nobody saying, “This isn’t working, and I’m going to move it forward.”

At some point, I stopped focusing on solutions and started watching the room.

One person spoke often. Clear frustration. Strong opinions. Plenty of ideas about improvement.

Another disengaged almost immediately. Closed posture. Short responses. The body language of someone signaling disinterest or detachment.

What stood out wasn’t disagreement or lack of ability. Initiative never appeared.

Nobody offered to document issues. Nobody volunteered to clarify expectations. Nothing moved until someone assigned action directly.

A pattern emerged quickly.

This band operated inside a low-ownership environment—one where frustration flowed freely, while responsibility waited for permission.

Here’s a line many leaders avoid drawing:

Frustration is not ownership.

Naming problems feels productive, but it isn’t the same as carrying them forward.

In the room, frustration filled the air. People explained annoyances clearly. They identified obstacles precisely. They suggested improvements thoughtfully. Still, frustration became the endpoint, treated as contribution rather than the starting line.

In low-ownership environments, calling out issues starts to feel like work itself. Leaders mistake complaints for engagement. Awareness masquerades as action.

Real change only happens once someone crosses a line—from “this bothers me” to “this belongs to me.”

Ownership doesn’t require solving everything alone.

Ownership means choosing one step:

• Take the next action.

• Propose a clear solution.

• Escalate with intention instead of resignation.

Ownership never looks like waiting for someone else to care more.

When bands repeatedly voice frustration without initiative, no blockage exists. A lesson has already formed: responsibility feels optional.

Lessons like that grow in places where problems get solved for people instead of by them.

So the challenge isn’t blindness to issues.

The challenge lives in clarity—clarity around who moves when problems appear, and clarity around expectation once someone sees an issue sitting in plain sight.

Pipe bands thrive on shared sound, shared timing, shared purpose.

Ownership deserves the same treatment.