Why Great Founders Protect Their Creators

Everyone loves the idea of creativity until they see what it actually looks like. Real creation is messy, nonlinear, unpredictable, and often inconvenient. It doesn’t follow routines or fit inside the lines. True creators break patterns, resist consensus, and make people uncomfortable. But that’s the point.

Because the world only changes when someone is willing (and brave enough) to follow the impulse others have tried to manage out of them.

And yet, as companies grow, that’s often exactly what happens: Structure gets added, and then slowly the work starts to feel different. The impulse to create gets redirected, constrained, and made more palatable. And as a result, the edge that once drove the company forward starts to disappear.

Structure isn’t the problem. In fact, it's necessary if you want to build something that lasts. But when structure turns into control, when leadership starts telling creators how to create, you lose the spark that set your company apart in the first place.

Great founders make space for creative work without smothering it. They support it, protect it, and respect where it comes from. So let’s talk about how you can support the creatives on your team (including yourself) without holding them, and your company, back.

The Normalization Trap

As a lot of companies grow, they start to value predictability and order, mostly because it feels like progress. Process becomes the focus, habits get formalized, and people begin paying more attention to what’s repeatable instead of what’s possible.

When this happens, the conversation changes from “What are we building?” to “Are we following the process?” Sure, it feels safer and easier to manage. But in that shift, creativity gets lost.

The fact is, creators are the ones who push things forward. The ones who see what doesn’t exist yet. And they don’t do their best work in environments built around predictability.

Why? Because they’re wired differently. They work in stretches, not increments. Their energy shows up in waves, sometimes in the middle of the night. And their best ideas often emerge beyond the boundaries of constraints others have built around them.

Some organizations don't know how to handle that kind of personality, and the only thing they know to do is try to manage it. So they ask their creators to follow a template. To standardize how they brainstorm. To document their process so someone else can replicate it.

And I get it, the intention makes sense. But this is where well-meaning leadership takes a wrong turn. Because for true creatives, the process is the work. If you refine it too much, you risk managing the spark right out of it.

Without deviation from the norm, progress is not possible.

Frank Zappa

How to Support Creative Work 

Supporting creators doesn’t mean stepping back entirely. It means building the kind of structure that offers direction without trying to control every step. The goal isn’t uniformity. It’s having enough clarity to keep everyone aligned while keeping enough space for people to work how they’re wired to work best.

Creators thrive when they’re trusted to make, to deliver, and to own what they’re building. What wears them down isn’t accountability. It’s the extra layers of process, permission, and explanation that get added by people who don’t actually do the creative work.

Healthy systems don’t pull creators away. They protect their focus. That’s why the best organizations are built on clear agreements that provide clarity on what you’re building toward, what matters most right now, and who owns what. That transparency gives people the room they need to be creative.

It’s one reason we designed Ninety the way we did. Not to force conformity, but to give teams just enough structure (clear roles, shared priorities, transparent agreements) so people can focus on the work that really matters.

Great founders understand how important this space is. They know when to introduce more structure and when to hold back. And they realize that preserving the soul of the company depends on leaving a few corners unpolished — places where genius, obsession, and oddity can live.

If you want to build something enduring, something that has the power to change the world, you can’t just tolerate your creators. And you can’t back them into neat little corners with more structure. You have to build a place for them to thrive.

Let the Work Speak

When creators are doing what they’re built to do, the work speaks for itself. It shows up in the product. In the thinking, the craft, and the choices that move the company forward. You can see the impact.

But it’s easy to forget how fragile that creative impulse really is. You can’t legislate inspiration, but you can suffocate it. Every unnecessary process, every micromanagement (no matter how well-meaning), every insistence that “we all do it this way” sends the same message: We’d rather be safe than original.

That’s the moment your company starts to lose its edge.

High-performing teams don’t eliminate structure. They use it like scaffolding — it's meant to be supportive and designed to elevate the work without becoming the focus. The best structures fade into the background once the work is in motion. It’s not about control. It’s about support.

Yes, you need deadlines, dashboards, and discipline. But those things should be there to serve creators, not smother them. And if you really want to understand how your creators are doing, don’t ask for more process. Just look at what’s getting built.

Your Work Still Matters, Too

We often forget that we’re creators, too. We may not be as hands on with creating the product anymore, but the work of building the company — the vision, the strategy, the hard decisions — that’s still creative work. And it needs the same kind of protection.

If we spend all our energy implementing structure for our team, our own creative work gets pushed to the side. We get pulled away from what only we can do.

So if you want to support creators in your company, start by protecting your own creative time. Normalize that space. Make it visible. The way you treat your work sets the tone for how others treat theirs.

Here are a few simple ways to do that:

• Block time to think, not just react: Creative work requires space: mental, emotional, and physical. If your calendar is packed with back-to-back meetings, you’re not making time for real thinking. And if you don’t, no one else will either.
• Say no to meetings that don’t need you: You don’t need to be everywhere. In fact, showing up to everything sends the wrong message. Be present where your presence adds value, then get out of the way.
• Protect the energy you need to make big decisions: The most important calls require clarity and calm, not urgency and overwhelm. That means treating your energy and time like a resource to use wisely.
• Build systems that give you leverage: Structure should help you make fewer, better decisions, not bury you in more work. Design your systems to free up your attention, not compete for it.
• Give your team the same space: If you need time to think and work without interruption, so do your creators. Protect their focus the same way you protect your own, and trust that the work will show up.

Great founders don’t let structure pull them out of the work. They stay engaged, and they build systems that give others that same freedom.

Making the Space

If you’re a founder, builder, or creative leader, odds are you’ve been told you’re too intense, too particular, or just hard to manage.

Good. That edge, the part of you that doesn’t quite fit the mold, is what makes you capable of building something others can’t.

But being a creator doesn’t mean working in isolation. It doesn’t free you from clarity or commitment. What it does require is protecting your time, your focus, and the people who do the same kind of work alongside you. The companies that will last are the ones that know how to make space for difference. The ones where creators and operators can do what they do best, without stepping on each other’s toes.

So please, don’t tell a creator how to create. Give them direction, not instruction. Hold the vision, clear the path, and let them run.

We’re not normal. That’s the point. And that’s exactly why we make things worth building.