From Alien to Ally: Business Transformation Lessons from Resident Alien

Picture this: You’ve just landed in a new town where no one knows you, few trust you, and most are bracing for the storm you’re meant to guide them through. Sounds like science fiction? Welcome to life as a Transformation Manager.

Managing a business transition—especially one involving rightsizing, vision shifts, and operating model overhauls—mirrors the plot of Resident Alien, the hit Syfy show where an extraterrestrial disguised as Dr. Harry Vanderspeigle ends up living among humans he was initially sent to destroy.

In my current role as transition lead preparing a company for Day 1 operations, I’ve often felt like Harry: an outsider dropped into a community during a time of fear, suspicion, and immense change. Here’s how lessons from Harry’s journey can guide anyone tasked with leading through chaos.


1. You’re Not the Hero… Yet

“Humans are irrational, emotional, and messy. And now I’m becoming one of them.” – Harry

In the early days of transition planning, people saw me not as a leader but as the face of disruption—the person who would oversee job losses, restructure teams, and triple workloads. Their anxiety wasn’t personal; it was systemic. Like Harry arriving in Patience, Colorado, I realized I needed to earn their trust, not demand it.

The lesson: As a transformation leader, you’re not a savior—at least not at first. Show empathy, listen actively, and acknowledge the fear. Don’t dismiss concerns with forced optimism. Validate their reality before asking them to embrace a new one.


2. See Through Their Eyes

One of Resident Alien’s strengths is how it frames humanity through an alien lens—turning our routines into bizarre rituals and our logic into contradictions. When I listened to the frontline team’s concerns about absorbing three roles, losing peers, and still performing at full speed, I stopped seeing them as “resistors” and started seeing them as survivors.

I began walking the floor more frequently, asking better questions, and documenting not just processes but emotional patterns—what made people feel hopeful versus helpless.

The lesson: Change isn’t just operational—it’s psychological. Try seeing the transformation from their perspective. A Gantt chart won’t tell you who’s crying in their car before work or lying awake at night wondering if they’re next.


3. Experiment with Humanity

Harry doesn’t know how to smile, greet neighbors, or interpret sarcasm. He learns by experimenting—awkwardly, but authentically. As a manager, I took inspiration from this approach. I didn’t have all the answers, but I could try new forms of engagement: “transition clinics,” anonymous Q&As, empathy mapping sessions, and even appropriate humor to reduce tension.

When I got it wrong, I admitted it openly.

The lesson: Don’t wait for the “perfect communication strategy.” Try something, test the tone, and own the missteps. Let your team see you learning alongside them. Vulnerability builds trust faster than perfection.


4. The Ones Who Stay Carry a New Kind of Weight

Perhaps the most difficult parallel: those left behind.

In Resident Alien, Harry begins to care about the humans he was sent to eliminate. He sees their pain, their loss, and their capacity to adapt. The people who remain after restructuring face a similar reality. They carry the loss of colleagues, the weight of extra responsibility, and the complex emotions of being “lucky” to stay.

I made it a point to create not just transition plans but recognition rituals. We paused to thank, to let teams grieve and regroup, and to explain why they were chosen to stay—and what leadership realistically expected from them moving forward.

The lesson: Survival isn’t reward enough. Acknowledge the emotional and operational cost of staying. Build in space for recovery before expecting peak performance. Honor the journey, not just the destination.


5. Create a New Story Worth Believing In

By Season 2, Harry isn’t just mimicking humans—he’s forming real bonds and protecting people. In transformation work, our job is similar: evolve from being a messenger of change to a builder of the new story.

I shifted language from “headcount reduction” to “strategic reshaping,” from “loss of jobs” to “building resilience.” Not to mask the truth, but to help people reframe it constructively.

We didn’t just launch a new org chart. We co-created a Day 1 narrative with our people: What do we believe in now? What do we stand for? Why does it matter?

The lesson: In times of upheaval, people cling to stories. Tell one worth believing in—and involve them in writing the next chapter. Make them authors of their own transformation, not just subjects of it.


Final Reflection: From Alien to Ally

Harry came to Earth with a mission to destroy it. But through relationship, humility, and reflection, he changed. So did his purpose.

As transformation leaders, we arrive with a mandate. But how we fulfill it—how human we remain while executing it—defines our legacy and determines our success.

To lead through change, we must first become one of them.

“Sometimes, the more you try to be human, the more you discover what truly matters.” – A Transformation Lead (or maybe just Harry)


What’s your experience with leading through major organizational change? Have you found yourself feeling like an outsider trying to guide others through transformation?

When Our Clean Energy Startup Almost Collapsed (And How We Saved It)

A behind-the-scenes look at how LumenEarth turned a digital transformation disaster into our biggest win


I still remember the day everything started falling apart.

It was a Tuesday morning, and I was staring at my third cup of coffee, watching our latest project timeline crumble in real-time. As the transformation lead at LumenEarth, I’d seen my share of challenging projects, but this one felt different. This one felt personal.

We’re a clean energy company with big dreams and even bigger ambitions. Our mission to revolutionize sustainable technology had attracted incredible talent, but somehow, we’d found ourselves stuck in what I can only describe as collaboration quicksand. The harder we tried to move forward, the deeper we sank.

The Team That Almost Wasn’t

Let me introduce you to the players in this story – people who’ve become more than colleagues over the years:

Emma (that’s me) – I’ve been leading digital transformations for eight years, and I thought I’d seen it all. Turns out, I hadn’t.

Raj – Our finance guru with a mind like a chess master. He could spot a budget inconsistency from three departments away, but he had zero patience for what he called “process theater.”

Lena – Our operations powerhouse who somehow kept our renewable energy projects running while juggling a thousand moving parts. She had this uncanny ability to deliver under pressure, but she was burning out fast.

Marco – The quiet genius in the corner who could code solutions that would make your head spin. He thrived on creative problem-solving but withered under rigid structure.

On paper, we were a dream team. In reality? We were barely speaking to each other.

The Breaking Point

The project that nearly broke us was supposed to be straightforward: create an integrated system that would connect our research, operations, and financial departments. Simple, right?

Wrong.

Three months in, we had missed every major milestone. Raj was convinced operations was overspending. Lena insisted finance was blocking necessary resources. Marco had built brilliant solutions that nobody could figure out how to implement. And me? I was drowning in meetings where everyone talked past each other.

The worst part wasn’t the missed deadlines or the budget overruns. It was watching brilliant people lose faith in each other – and in themselves.

The Moment Everything Changed

After yet another failed delivery, I realized we weren’t failing because we lacked talent or dedication. We were failing because we had no clear way to make decisions together.

That’s when I decided to stop managing the chaos and start designing our way out of it.

I called an emergency meeting – but this time, I came prepared with something different. Instead of another status update or blame session, I presented the team with three concrete options:

  1. Restructure our roles – Completely redefine who does what
  2. Implement formal governance – Create clear processes and accountability
  3. Escalate to executives – Bring in leadership to make the tough calls

But here’s the kicker: instead of debating endlessly or letting the loudest voice win, we used a weighted scoring model to evaluate each option objectively.

Getting Scientific About Solutions

We scored each option across four criteria that mattered most to us:

  • How feasible was it really?
  • Would it clarify everyone’s roles?
  • Did it create real accountability?
  • How quickly could we implement it?

The exercise took two hours. For the first time in months, we were having a productive conversation about solutions instead of problems.

Formal governance won – not because it was the easiest option, but because it addressed our core issues while building on our existing strengths.

Planning for the Inevitable

But we didn’t stop there. Before implementing anything, we ran what’s called a Potential Problem Analysis. Basically, we asked ourselves: “What could go wrong, and how do we prevent it?”

We identified the most likely stumbling blocks:

  • Raj might resist new processes as bureaucratic overhead
  • Lena could get overwhelmed trying to implement changes while maintaining operations
  • Marco might quietly disengage if the structure felt too rigid

For each potential problem, we developed specific prevention strategies. We co-created the governance framework so everyone had input. We piloted it with just one team first. We scheduled weekly check-ins to course-correct before small issues became big problems.

The Turnaround

Six weeks later, something remarkable happened. Not only were we hitting our deadlines, but we were actually ahead of schedule on two major deliverables.

More importantly, the team dynamic had completely shifted. Raj started saying things like, “Actually, this process is helping me spot issues earlier.” Lena stopped working 12-hour days because she finally had predictable workflows. Marco began contributing ideas in meetings instead of just implementing what others decided.

The best moment? When Raj – our biggest skeptic – looked up from his laptop during a team meeting and said, “I have to admit, I actually like knowing what everyone’s working on. Who knew structure could be liberating?”

What We Learned

Here’s what I wish someone had told me at the beginning: most collaboration problems aren’t people problems. They’re design problems.

We had talented, committed people who wanted to succeed. What we lacked was a shared framework for making decisions and moving forward together.

The tools we used – weighted scoring, problem analysis, structured governance – aren’t magical. They’re just systematic ways to channel good intentions into effective action.

If You’re Stuck Too

Maybe your team is facing something similar. Maybe you’re tired of meetings that go nowhere, projects that stall, and talented people who can’t seem to work together effectively.

If that sounds familiar, consider this: the problem might not be your people. It might be your process.

Before you reorganize, hire consultants, or escalate to leadership, try designing your way out. Use decision-making tools. Plan for problems before they happen. Create structures that support collaboration instead of fighting it.

Sometimes the best way to move fast is to slow down long enough to get the design right.


LumenEarth continues to grow and innovate in the clean energy space. Our integrated platform now serves as a model for other sustainability-focused companies looking to scale their operations. But more than that, we’ve learned that great teams aren’t born – they’re designed.