We think a lot about teams.

How to lift them. How they drive performance in the business. How they shape culture. How they lead change, build with a product mindset, and translate strategy into action.

And it matters—McKinsey found that in critical roles, top performers don’t just outperform—they multiply. Up to 8x more productive than their peers.

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So it’s worth asking, now and then, who’s on the team?

And more to the point—who shouldn’t be?

Meet the anti-team.

This roster of villains will do everything to slow you down. Left unchecked, they will put a wrench in the machine. They jam signals and erode trust. They’re a jargon-producing menace who make the simple complicated, and the straightforward complex.

You’ve met them before. You might be hiring them. You might even be creating them.

In descending order of dysfunction, they are:

#1. Mirrors.

#2. Puppets.

#3. Ghosts.

#4. Anchors.

#5. Spotlighters.

#6. Saboteurs.

#1. Mirrors.

You like them. Why wouldn’t you? They are a reflection of you. They think like you, act like you, echo your opinions. They nod along and rarely push back.

But that’s the problem. Mirrors don’t add—they reflect. And each reflection is a paler copy of the original. You get agreement without insight. Alignment without tension. Safe thinking. No friction.

Distortion disguised as agreement.

You’ll spot them by how quickly they agree, how often they reuse your words, and how rarely they bring something new to the table.

Mirrors are usually skilled and capable. Somewhere along the way, when status or certainty felt threatened, they traded originality for safety. 

To shift them, invite dissent. 

Demand candor. It doesn’t take confrontation—it takes a different task. Push them by giving them a safe way to push back. Put them in the role of a healthy skeptic. Have them lead a pre-mortem—a review of a project where they map out everything that could go wrong, before it does.

You want an anti-mirror: a challenger. 

Someone who makes your ideas sharper, not softer.

#2. Puppets.

They’re helpful. Reliable. They never push back. Never raise a hand. Never ask, “Why are we doing this?” They just nod, take notes, and wait for instructions. At first, that feels like a gift—someone who gets things done without hassle.

But puppets don’t think. They do. They’ve abdicated autonomy. You do the thinking—and the checking. You get execution without judgment. Transactions. Output without accountability.

The task gets done, but the point gets missed.

Watch what they don’t do. They ask, “Is this what you had in mind?” or wait for direction before making even small decisions. They’re always busy, but rarely out in front.

Puppets have skill. What they lack is will. At some point—possibly from you—they learned taking initiative meant risking blame. So they stopped.

To shift them, give them the problem, not the task. Ask for their take before sharing yours. Push them to make the first call—and most importantly, back them when they do.

You want an anti-puppet: an owner.

Someone who thinks before acting—and takes accountability for the outcome.

#3. Ghosts.

They were on the calendar. In the room. On the thread. But not really. They show up without showing up. There in body, but not in spirit. They’re silent in meetings. Absent in decisions. Invisible when work gets hard. 

Ghosts don’t cause drama. They don’t stir conflict. They just... fade. You get presence without pull. Involvement without initiative. Login without lift.

They’re there, but not there.

You’ll notice them by their silence. Initials on a Zoom call. They don’t volunteer. They don’t raise blockers. And they don’t follow up. When the pressure’s on, they’re hard to find—and harder to count on.

Ghosts usually have the skill. They lack the will. That might look like laziness, but often it’s not. It’s overload. Or burnout. Or fear. When people feel their effort won’t matter—or won’t be safe—they pull back.

To move them, motivate them. Reconnect their work to what matters—to them. Ask what’s getting in their way. Make it safe to speak up, and make it count when they do.

You want an anti-ghost: a driver.

Someone who brings energy, not just attendance.

#4. Anchors.

They might not mean to slow you down, but they do.

They question everything. Claim change fatigue. Rerun history with “why not...” and “what happened when.” They challenge every idea. Flag every risk. They ask for more data, more detail, and more time. 

At first, it sounds like prudence. But anchors don’t let up. A decision made is a decision to reopen. Caution leeches away contribution. Feedback that sounds smart, but keeps you stuck.

Anchors resist change, hoping, “This too shall pass.”

You won’t hear a direct “no.” You’ll hear “let’s revisit,” “have we considered,” or “I’m not sure we’re ready.” Resistance, disguised as thoughtfulness.

Anchors often have both will and skill. They’re just not aligned with your agenda. They lack belief in the plan, in its pace, or the payoff. One foot in the past, unable to see the future. 

To move them, engage them early. Invite them to shape the solution. Have them develop story 1 (the journey) and story 2 (the destination). Help them see themselves in the picture they’re resisting.

You want an anti-anchor: a catalyst.

Someone who helps you move—not holds you back.

#5. Spotlighters.

They love the stage. The moment. The mic drop.

They lean in when the spotlight’s on, and step back when the real push begins. They show up big in meetings, pitch decks, and executive briefings. They speak in sound bites. Share wins, not worries.

When the work gets messy—when the team needs grit—they’re hard to find. Persistence isn’t their strong suit. 

Spotlighters chase recognition, not results.

See how fast they jump in, and how fast they fade. They lead the kick-off, but miss the check-in, already chasing the next big thing. They celebrate outcomes they didn’t help drive. First to post, last to push.

Spotlighters have skill and will, but it’s misdirected. They invest where the recognition is, not where the real work happens.

Sometimes it’s ambition. Sometimes insecurity. Often, it’s a learned behavior in environments that reward heroes, not hard work.

To move them, shift what you celebrate. Glorify effort, contribution, and perseverance—the small steps, not just the big gains. Shine a light on follow-through and follow-up. Track ownership, not airtime.

You want an anti-spotlighter: a steward. 

Someone who stays with it, not just when the lights are on.

#6. Saboteurs.

They don’t just block the work. They break the machine.

Saboteurs were French factory workers who tossed their wooden shoes—sabots—into machines to grind them to a halt. Now they’re on your team. Whispering doubt. Stirring resentment. Building friction.

Sometimes it's subtle: passive resistance, loaded questions, side comments, and backchannels.

They undermine trust and corrode culture.

You’ll feel it before you see it. People pull back. Meetings get tense. Pocket vetoes multiply.

Saboteurs often have both will and skill. They lack alignment. They’re smart, experienced, and working against you.  Sometimes it’s political. Sometimes it’s personal. Often, it’s a response to feeling sidelined, unrecognized, or a loss of power.

To move them, surface the behavior. Name it—clearly and calmly. Set clear expectations and guardrails. Don’t feed into the behavior by tiptoeing around it. And if nothing changes, you may need to make a tough call.

You want an anti-saboteur: a force multiplier.

Someone who builds trust, fuels momentum, and makes everyone around them better.

The best teams don’t just happen. 

They’re shaped by who you bet on, who you build up, and who you stop carrying

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