Sometimes You Have to Drink the Problem

When the Best Way Forward Looks Insane to Everyone Else.

My dad always had stomach ulcers.

I grew up with an "old dad" (he was 51 when I was born), and ulcers were just part of his existence. Both Mom and Dad often pointed out that stress was a major cause of ulcers, and there wasn’t much relief for them. He’d take Tagamet, which helped somewhat, but by and large, he just lived with the pain and discomfort.

His ulcers became a kind of specter in our lives. Don’t stress out Dad, it exacerbates his ulcers. Make sure you show up on time—the ulcers!

Tagamet, released in 1976, was the first "blockbuster" drug to generate over $1 billion in sales. Then Zantac came along in 1981, becoming an even bigger seller and the new go-to to help with Dad’s pain. When his ulcers got really bad, he’d also drink milk and eat bland foods.

Unfortunately for Dad, he’d never heard of Barry Marshall.

Who, you might ask, is Barry Marshall? Well, in 1982, while Dad was popping Tagamet like Skittles and carefully watching his stress levels, a young Australian doctor and his research partner made a discovery that would upend everything we thought we knew about ulcers. It turned out they weren't caused by stress at all (sorry, Dad). Instead, they were caused by a bacterium called H. pylori.

When Marshall and his partner Robin Warren first proposed their bacterial theory, they were literally laughed at by other doctors. Yes, honest to God, laughed at. The idea that bacteria could survive up against the stomach's acidic environment seemed bonkers. Their research papers were rejected, and they were refused opportunities to present at conferences.

So Dr. Marshall did something crazy: he drank a broth containing the H. pylori bacteria. Within a couple of days, he developed gastritis (a precursor to ulcers), documented his symptoms, treated himself with antibiotics, and recovered. Wrap your head around that for a minute. He was so convinced that he made himself sick to prove his point. It’s hard not to admire that kind of conviction.

This discovery had an undeniable impact: ulcers, which affected 10% of adults and caused thousands of deaths each year, could now be cured with simple antibiotics. The pharmaceutical industry was not psyched.

Marshall's evidence became too clear to ignore, and by the mid-1990s, his discovery was accepted all over the world. In 2005, Marshall and Warren were awarded the Nobel Prize in Medicine for their work. Poor Dad died in 2008 and honestly took Zantac and ate bland food until his final breath. Sidebar: Dad wasn’t big on antibiotics, but that is a story for another time.

So, why the trip down ulcer lane? This week, I want to dive into what happens when you introduce change into established systems—why it is met with resistance and why persevering in the face of that resistance is totally worth it.

Why Systems Fight Back

The thing about change is that it's rarely only about being right. Dr. Marshall wasn't the first person to be right about something that challenged the status quo, and he won't be the last. Being right isn't enough—you're going up against something much bigger than just facts and evidence.

When you try to change an established system, you're likely taking on three powerful forces at once: control, ego, and inertia.

• Control is obvious. Someone, somewhere, has authority over how things are being done. Whether it's hospital administrators dictating treatment protocols, education boards determining curriculum, or managers defending their territory against new ways of working—there's usually a deep-rooted power structure invested in maintaining the current way of doing things. These gatekeepers have spent years building their influence within the existing system. They know its rules, its exceptions, and most importantly, they know exactly which levers to pull to get things done their way.

• Ego is trickier. Imagine spending your entire career building expertise in something, only to be told you've been wrong or it could be done better. It's not just about admitting a mistake—it's about facing the possibility that your professional identity, your authority, your sense of self might be built on shaky ground. That's a tough pill to swallow, even for the most rational among us.

• And then there's inertia—but it's not just organizational momentum we're talking about. It's the deep human comfort with the familiar. We craft our processes, protocols, and habits to make our work lives predictable and manageable. Change threatens that comfort zone, that sense of knowing exactly what to expect when we walk through the door each morning. Even when people know there might be a better way, the familiar mediocre can feel safer than the unknown excellent.

As my colleague (and founder of Sporcle) Matt Ramme put it:

You’re upsetting the apple cart. Anytime anyone does that, they get resistance. It can be totally the right thing, but people’s inclination is to resist change—be it business, personal, or, shit, anything. Change is hard, and usually, people need to be dragged there.

So, what can you do about it if you are the one who wants to introduce change?

Breaking Through the Resistance

So how do you actually make change happen when you're up against these forces? I believe that there are a few key strategies that can help—and they map pretty neatly to those three barriers we just talked about.

First, when dealing with control structures, you need to find ways to make your case undeniable. Sometimes this means working within the system, and sometimes it means going around it. Dr. Marshall? He chose the latter approach and took the quite drastic step of experimenting on himself. This was all about creating evidence so compelling that it couldn't be ignored.

But not all of us can (or should!) take such dramatic steps. In a lot of cases, building support networks and finding allies who understand the problem is the right way to go. The key is identifying the people who feel the pain of the current system most acutely—they can be your best advocates for change.

For tackling ego resistance, the best approach might be to make it safe for people to change their minds. Instead of saying "hey loser, you're wrong," try "what we’ve got isn’t bad, but what if we could make this even better?" Frame the change as an evolution (rather than a revolution). The best leaders don't force change down people's throats - they find ways to bring people along on the journey, to make them partners in figuring out a better way forward.

And for inertia? That can be the toughest nut to crack because you're fighting against the comfort of routine. People have developed workflows, habits, and patterns that feel safe and predictable. Breaking through that kind of inertia isn't just about proving your case - it's about making the new way feel as comfortable as the old way. Start small. Let people dip their toes in the water. Build momentum gradually rather than expecting everyone to jump into the deep end all at once.

And folks, timing matters just as much as tactics. Sometimes systems aren't ready for change. It's like that Tony Robbins quote:

Change happens when the pain of staying the same is greater than the pain of change.

But here's the thing—being an agent of change isn't for the faint of heart. Remember what Matt said about people needing to be dragged toward change? He's right—and that dragging requires an unwavering belief in what you're trying to accomplish. It's not about being stubborn; it's about having the fortitude to stand firm when the resistance comes (and believe me, it will come).

Sometimes you'll feel like you're the only one who sees the better way forward, but that deep-seated belief in what's possible is what will carry you through to the other side.

In Conclusion

Looking back at Dr. Marshall's discovery, it's really tempting to focus only on the results—a Nobel Prize, a revolutionary treatment, a complete shift in how we understand ulcers. But what really matters is what that change meant for real people. It meant that a condition affecting millions became easily treatable. It meant that countless people wouldn’t have to spend their lives managing pain with bland food and ineffective medications. And at the end of the day, it saved lives.

Cause that's the thing about meaningful change—it's never just about being right or proving a point. It's about making things fundamentally better for the people caught in the old way of doing things.

Yes, you'll face resistance.

Yes, you'll have to push against control structures, navigate egos, and overcome the gravitational pull of "that's how we've always done it."

But when you're fighting for something that matters, resistance isn't just an obstacle—it's the price of admission. And somewhere right now, someone with a "crazy" idea is being laughed out of the room. That person might just change the world...or at the very least, make it OK to eat spicy foods.