The quiet moment before the wheel spins

We had a task that needed a single owner, and no one was volunteering. I could feel the weight of the silence, the subtle way eyes darted away from mine. Looking around the room, I saw the usual suspects already carrying heavy loads, and the newer faces trying to stay under the radar.

Introducing the wheel felt like a release valve

I pulled up the digital wheel on the shared screen, a simple circle with everyone's name. It wasn't about shirking responsibility. It was about removing the burden of choice from me, the manager, and placing it into a neutral, almost playful mechanism. The collective pause that followed was palpable, a mix of apprehension and curiosity.Someone made a joke about fate deciding. It broke the tension just enough. In that moment, the wheel stopped being a tool and became a shared experience, a story we were all witnessing together.

After the spin, the dynamic was different

The person whose name was selected didn't look burdened. They looked… acknowledged, in a strange way. There was a slight nod, a quiet 'okay, I've got this.' The fairness of the process, however random, was accepted by the group without debate.It didn't solve the underlying workload issues, of course. But for that one task, it dissolved the unspoken hierarchy of assignment and the potential for resentment. The team's focus could return to the work itself, not on who was chosen to do it.

It's a tool, not a solution

I don't use it for everything, only for those occasional, equally undesirable or ambiguous items that need a clear owner. Its power lies in its impartiality.

The real work begins after

My job then is to support the person who was selected, to ensure they have what they need. The wheel handles the 'who,' so we can all focus on the 'how.'