The loop only works if it can break itself.
A feedback system that cannot challenge its own assumptions becomes decorative. It produces the appearance of rigor without the cost of change.
This happens quietly. Notes get written but not read before the next design decision. Observations accumulate but don't alter roadmaps. The loop continues, but nothing actually moves through it—it just cycles in place.
Signs of theater:
- Field notes that describe problems but never name what should change
- Design revisions that happen on schedule rather than in response to documented failure
- RSVP System updates that weren't requested by anyone who uses it at Hilltop
- Observations that confirm what was already believed
- Documentation written for external audiences rather than internal use
What protects against this:
The loop must be able to stop forward motion.
If a field note reveals a fundamental flaw, the next design cycle doesn't proceed until that flaw is addressed. Not worked around—addressed. This requires the authority to pause, which means accepting that some cycles produce no new features, only corrections.
Someone must ask: "What changed because of the last field note?"
Not in retrospectives or reviews, but before new work begins. If the answer is "nothing," the note either wasn't honest about what it found, or the loop isn't actually connected.
Hilltop Camp must be able to reject the system.
If staff stop using RSVP System, or route around it, or vocally prefer the old method, that's not resistance to overcome—it's data. The system failed a real test. The loop protects itself by trusting that signal.
Design must sometimes defer to documentation.
When field notes say "this doesn't work the way we thought," the next step isn't to refine the idea—it's to question whether the idea should exist at all. The loop becomes theater when design always wins those conflicts.
The work must be willing to look worse before it looks better.
Simplification often means removing features that took months to build. Honesty often means documenting failures that reflect poorly on recent decisions. If those things don't happen periodically, the loop has been captured by momentum.
The test:
Can you name the last thing the loop killed?
Not delayed, not refined—killed. A feature that was removed. A process that was abandoned. A plan that was discarded after field contact.
If you can't, the loop may still be running, but it's not doing work.