The Problem with “People Hate Change”

I used to passively accept statements like “People hate change” and “Change involves loss.”

They were everywhere. In team briefings, change programs, even leadership workshops. Delivered with the weight of experience, they sounded both pragmatic and profound.

But something never sat quite right.

When I recalled the lectures of Professor Kearns, my undergraduate semantics teacher, that unease clicked into clarity. We had studied the way language works and the subtle ways it can mislead us when we aren’t paying close attention.

And here’s the thing. Statements like “People hate change” are riddled with semantic assumptions.

Let me explain.

What Semantics Reveals about these Phrases

In linguistic terms, both “people” and “change” are mass nouns. That means they refer to an entire class or concept, rather than a specific instance. When a mass noun is used without a qualifier, it typically implies universality.

So, when someone says, “People hate change,” they are not just making a loose observation. Semantically, what they are saying is:
“All people hate all change.”

That is a bold claim. One that does not hold up, even under the lightest scrutiny.

I, for one, do not hate all change. And I suspect you do not either. I like some changes. I have even craved them. New projects. Personal growth. Better tools. Longer daylight hours.

To claim that all people hate all change is to flatten the rich and varied terrain of human experience into a false binary. And yet this kind of linguistic shortcut is remarkably common.

The same problem appears in the often-quoted phrase: “Change involves loss.”

On the surface, it feels more emotionally intelligent. But again, without a qualifier, it implies:
“All change always involves loss.”

That simply is not true. Think of getting promoted. Falling in love. Recovering from illness. Some of these involve trade-offs, yes. However, loss doesn’t have to be the defining feature.

Which Change, exactly?

This brings us to another issue. The noun “change” is used as if it refers to a single, stable concept. But it does not.

For one dimension, what context of change are we talking about: personal (change); societal (change); organizational (change)?

And even then, are we referring to all changes that happen in those contexts? Or a specific type of change, at a specific moment in time, experienced by a specific person or group?

Without clarifying the kind of change we mean, conversations can quickly lose traction. Misunderstanding builds on assumption. The word “change” becomes a catch-all for any shift, rather than a meaningful description of a particular phenomenon.

That is why I developed (c. 2017) a proposed Typology for Change to help us get more precise and more insightful about one way we discuss change and human responses to it. You can read it here: Are we talking about the same thing? A typology for change. In it, I explore dimensions such as:

  • Is it initiated or invited?
  • Is it imposed or an intervention?
  • It is incidental or inevitable?

These distinctions matter. Different types of changes evoke different responses (aka agency), from curiosity to resistance, from grieving to growth.

Why the Semantics Matter

You might ask whether this is all just splitting hairs.

It is not.

Language shapes how we think and how we treat others. If we rely on sweeping, universal claims, we risk misunderstanding what is really happening. Worse, we close down the space for dialogue and deeper understanding.

Saying “People hate change” might save time. However, it erases the possibility that some people, in some situations, might actually welcome it. It also absolves change leaders from doing the harder, more human work of making change meaningful and worthwhile.

So, let’s retire the sweeping statements.

Let’s say instead:

  • “Some people resist some types of changes.”
  • “Some changes involve loss. Some bring relief, clarity, or even joy.”
  • “The way people respond to changes depends on context, agency, and meaning.”

These are not soundbites. They will not win applause for brevity. But they are honest. They invite us to dig deeper, to engage more fully, and to design organisational changes with people in mind.

So next time you hear a phrase like “People hate change,” pause.

Ask: Which people? What kind of change? What changes? At what moment? With what meaning?

Because the more precise our language, the more generous and grounded our thinking becomes.

And they are the kind of changes worth enabling.