Change is the founder's own territory as much as the staff's, which is part of why it is so often handled badly. Restructures, rapid growth, role changes, redundancies, mergers, a leader leaving — organisations treat these as logistical events and manage the logistics, while the thing that actually determines how they land goes unattended. A transition is not only a change of circumstance. It is a change in who people take themselves to be at work, and that part rarely keeps pace with the announcement.
This is why change that looks well-managed on paper still produces a dip no one quite predicted — the disengagement, the quiet exits, the drop in the willingness to bring anything more than the minimum. People are navigating a shift in identity and belonging while being asked to perform as though only the org chart moved. The one whose role was absorbed, the team that lost the manager they trusted, the person whose long chapter simply ended: the situation has moved and the self is still somewhere behind it, looking for ground that has shifted.
The usual response is a comms plan and a reassurance that everything will settle. It does not reach the actual difficulty, because the difficulty is not informational. They are unsettled because something they were oriented around has gone, and the loss in that — even when there is genuine gain alongside it — needs acknowledgement rather than being hurried past. Rushing it usually prolongs it.