The Desire Path Problem
Walk through a well-designed park or neighbourhood in The Netherlands and you’ll notice something curious: alongside the carefully paved pathways, worn strips of grass cut diagonal lines across the lawns. These are olifantenpaadjes (“elephant paths”); the routes people actually take when given the choice between the designer’s intended route and the path that simply feels more natural.
The formal paths optimise for aesthetics, right angles, and rational planning. The desire paths optimise for how people actually want to move through space. Neither is wrong; they’re simply tied to different variables.
This same pattern shows up everywhere, including in how we understand motivation.
We’ve built elegant frameworks — the paved pathways of business psychology — that work beautifully for many people. But there are worn grass paths running across our carefully designed models; evidence of motivation that follows different logic entirely.
Every worn path tells a quiet story: people’s real motivations often follow the routes we didn’t plan for them.
When the Framework Doesn’t Fit
A couple of sessions into therapy, I was asked a diagnostic question: “When you think about your life, do you see yourself in the grandstand watching others play, or do you see yourself on the field, actively taking part in the game?”
It’s designed to assess whether you take responsibility for your life, whether you have agency, whether you’re engaged or passive. The “correct” answer seems obvious: you should be on the field.
My answer: “Neither. I think I’d be the person making sure there’s a stadium, and that the conditions exist for others to play their game.”
This seemed an incorrect answer. The framework had no category for it. I did not follow the track laid out for me.
This moment crystallised something I’d been experiencing throughout my career: I’ve built frameworks to understand customer motivation. At Yiist, we identify buy-in patterns with the MotivationScanner; at LMNS, we use the “moeten, kunnen, willen, gunnen” framework to gauge transaction readiness. We have been saying “need + emotion = motivation” in our presentations. In the context of our consultancy, these frameworks deliver. They’re grounded in solid theory. They help us identify motivated customers and employees.
But they don’t explain my own motivation. And increasingly, I’m noticing they don’t explain certain customers, certain employees, certain patterns that keep appearing in our work.
Which raises questions. What if the problem isn’t that these people are unmotivated? What if our instruments are calibrated to detect only one type of motivation?
The Question That Killed My Interest
First hour of economics class, age fifteen or so. The teacher announces: “We’re going to work with the Keynesian model.” I raised my hand: “Why that model in particular? What other models exist, and when would those be more applicable?“
I thought it was a good first question. Understanding the landscape before committing to a particular path seemed logical. The teacher didn’t appreciate the question. Didn’t answer it. The message was clear: we’re following this curriculum, stop asking tangential questions.
I switched off. Lost interest entirely. After that moment, there was no motivation to engage with economics.
Contrast this with my history and Dutch literature teachers. They met questions with enthusiasm and curiosity. When I’d make lateral connections (“So what you’re saying about the French Revolution is actually similar to…“), they’d engage with the analogy, explore it, use it. They weren’t threatened by flexible thinking around their subject. They validated exploratory cognition as legitimate.
Same student. Same baseline intelligence and curiosity. Completely different motivational outcomes.
The difference wasn’t in the subject matter. It was in whether the system had room for exploratory motivation: the drive to understand the landscape before accepting a particular path forward.
What Classical Theory Actually Measures
Our business frameworks for motivation don’t emerge from nowhere. They rest on decades of psychological research, particularly three foundational theories:
Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs (1943) gave us the pyramid: physiological needs, safety, belonging, esteem, self-actualisation. The model assumes sequential progression: you can’t be motivated by self-actualisation if your basic needs aren’t met.
Business translation: identify which level someone is operating at, and you’ll understand their motivation.
Herzberg’s Two-Factor Theory (1959) identified between hygiene factors (to prevent dissatisfaction) and motivators (to create satisfaction).
Business translation: remove friction, add incentives.
Self-Determination Theory (Deci & Ryan, 1985) brought sophistication through three innate psychological needs: autonomy, competence, and relatedness. When these are satisfied, intrinsic motivation flourishes. This is probably the most influential framework in modern business thinking about engagement and motivation.
These theories share common ground:
1. Goal-oriented: Motivation is for something: a need to be met, a goal to be achieved
2. Gap-closing: Motivation emerges from the tension between current state and desired state
3. Deficit-based: Something is missing or lacking, and that lack creates the drive
4. Linear progression: There’s a logical sequence from unmotivated → motivated → action → satisfied
5. Measurable endpoints: You can identify when motivation has been satisfied
Our business frameworks inherit these assumptions. “Need + emotion = motivation” assumes a gap (need) plus affective charge (emotion) to close it. “Moeten, kunnen, willen, gunnen” maps onto Self-Determination Theory: must (external necessity), can (competence), want (autonomy), grant (relatedness/readiness).
These frameworks aren’t wrong. They accurately describe a significant portion of human motivation.
But they seem incomplete.
The Motivation They Don’t See
In neuroscience, there’s a fundamental distinction between two types of behaviour: exploitation and exploration.
Exploitation means using what you know works to achieve goals efficiently. You have a target, you have proven methods, you execute. This is what classical motivation theory describes.
Exploration means gathering information about the environment, even without immediate payoff. You’re not trying to reach a goal; you’re trying to understand the surroundings. The search itself is the activity, not preparation for some other activity.
Cohen, McClure, and Yu’s 2007 work in Nature Neuroscience (“Should I stay or should I go?”) established that these aren’t just different strategies; they’re distinct neurological systems. The brain manages the tradeoff between them differently. More importantly, people differ in their baseline tendency toward one or the other.
Jaak Panksepp’s research on the Seeking System revealed something even more fundamental: the dopaminergic reward pathway activates during the search itself, not just upon finding something. Exploration has its own reward structure. You can be motivated by the act of exploring, independent of whether that exploration leads to a goal.
This challenges the foundational assumption of classical motivation theory: that all productive motivation must be directed toward an outcome.
What if motivation can come from abundance rather than deficit? Not “I lack X, therefore I’m motivated to acquire X“, but “I have cognitive capacity and curiosity, therefore I’m motivated to deploy it – not toward a specific goal, but toward understanding itself”.
Classical frameworks have no language for this. Self-Determination Theory gets close with “autonomy,” but it still assumes autonomy means freedom to choose which goal to pursue. It doesn’t account for a deeper form of autonomy: the freedom to explore the landscape before accepting any goal framework as legitimate.
When someone asks: “Why this approach versus all the alternatives?”, they’re not being difficult or indecisive. They’re exhibiting exploratory motivation. They need to understand the context before they can commit to a path.
When common frameworks encounter this, they register it as absence of motivation. The person doesn’t seem to be moving toward a goal. The need and emotion might be present, but there’s no action. The framework reads: unmotivated.
But that’s a detection error, not an absence of motivation.
The Stadium Builder Problem
Here’s what exploratory motivation looks like in practice:
In education: The student who can’t engage until they understand how this topic fits into the broader field. Who asks “why this model?” before learning the model. Who makes constant lateral connections to other domains. They appear unfocused, tangential, difficult. But they’re not unmotivated; they’re exploratory, and the system is designed for exploitation.
In work: The employee who seems scattered but makes crucial connections others miss. Who struggles with repetitive execution but excels at framework-building. Who creates infrastructure that enables others but doesn’t show up on performance metrics designed to measure individual goal achievement. They’re “stadium builders” — creating conditions for others’ success — but that’s not a category in most performance reviews.
In creativity: The person who isn’t creative enough to be a pure artist, but too creative to be a specialist. Who plants seeds for others to grow but rarely gets credited. Who works in process and context-creation rather than finished products. They’re productive, but their productivity doesn’t look like linear output, nor fits traditional KPI’s.
In business relationships: The client who has clear needs and strong emotion but keeps asking questions about methodology, alternatives, underlying philosophy. They check all the boxes in our motivation frameworks but still don’t convert. Not because they’re not ready, but because they’re in an exploration phase that our frameworks interpret as hesitation.
Classical frameworks would say these people lack:
- Clear goals (they seem to wander)
- Focus (they make tangential connections)
- Execution capability (they don’t finish in traditional ways)
- Commitment (they keep questioning)
But what if they’re simply operating with a different motivational architecture? One that’s oriented toward:
- Understanding over achieving
- Process over outcome
- Context-creation over direct production
- Exploration over exploitation
The problem isn’t the motivation. It’s that our detection systems are calibrated for one occurrence and miss the other entirely.
The Cost of False Negatives
When a framework fails to register something real, that’s a false negative. In medicine, it’s a dangerous diagnosis mistake. In business, it’s expensive.
In sales and marketing: How many high-value prospects have we lost because we interpreted their exploratory behaviour as indecision or lack of readiness? How much of what we call “the messy middle” in customer journeys is actually legitimate exploration that we’re treating as a bug rather than a feature?
In talent management: How many innovative employees are we labelling as unfocused or underperforming because their contributions don’t fit the goal-oriented metrics we measure? How much organisational learning capacity are we losing because we can’t see stadium-building as productive work?
In product development: How many users bounce from our services not because the product doesn’t meet their needs, but because our onboarding, content, and conversion paths are optimised entirely for linear, goal-oriented users?
The current consensus is that customer journeys are no longer linear: the funnel is dead, replaced by loops and “messy middles.” But what if the journey isn’t messy because of channel proliferation? What if it’s messy because the customer is exhibiting exploratory motivation, and our frameworks interpret exploration as confusion?
Two Types of Motivation, Not One
Consider two prospects, both looking at the same service:
The Linear Lead:
- “How quickly can I get to the outcome?”
- “Show me the ROI.”
- “Who else has succeeded with this?”
- Wants case studies, testimonials, clear timelines
- Motivated by efficiency and proven results
- Ready to convert once convinced it works
The Lateral Lead:
- “Why this approach versus all the others?”
- “Where does this fit in my broader system?”
- “What are the underlying principles?”
- Wants comparative frameworks, methodology explanations, philosophical foundations
- Motivated by understanding and context
- Ready to convert once they understand the landscape
Most businesses optimise entirely for the Linear Lead because they convert faster and their behaviour matches our frameworks. But Lateral Leads aren’t confused or uncommitted. They’re simply in an exploration phase that requires different content, different sales approaches, different metrics.
New Detection Criteria
If motivation operates on multiple levels, we need instruments that can detect more than one. Here’s what exploratory motivation looks like when you know what to watch for:
Question Density: Not just “do they ask questions”, but what type:
- Linear: “How much does it cost? When can I start? What’s the process?”
- Lateral: “Why did you choose this approach? What alternatives exist? How does this compare to X?”
Analogical Thinking: Frequent reframing or connecting your offering to unrelated domains:
- “This is similar to how…”
- “This reminds me of…”
- “In my previous field, we approached this by…”
These aren’t signs of confusion; they’re evidence of active integration into existing mental models.
Context-Seeking: Requiring understanding of position in the broader ecosystem before commitment:
- “Where does this fit in the market?”
- “How does this relate to [adjacent solution]?”
- “What’s the philosophy behind this?”
Process Language: Focus on the journey rather than the destination:
- More interested in “how you work” than “what you deliver”
- Questions about methodology, approach, thinking
- Comfort with iteration over completion
Meta-Commentary: Talking about the framework itself:
- “I notice you’re using [specific approach]…”
- “This framework assumes…”
- Explicitly discussing the model, not just using it
These aren’t bugs in the customer journey. They’re features of a different motivational profile.
What This Means for Practice
This isn’t just theoretical. If motivation operates on multiple levels, our business approaches need to broaden:
Content Strategy:
- Linear-optimised: case studies, ROI calculators, testimonials, clear CTAs
- Lateral-optimised: comparative frameworks, methodology deep-dives, market maps, philosophical foundations
Most companies do only the first
Sales Process:
- Linear-optimised: efficiency, clear steps, urgency, social proof
- Lateral-optimised: validation of exploration, patience with questions, providing landscape understanding
Most sales training teaches only the first
Performance Metrics:
- Linear-optimised: goal achievement, output, conversion, completion
- Lateral-optimised: context-creation, connection-making, framework-building, infrastructure development
Most KPIs measure only the first
Product Design:
- Linear-optimised: streamlined onboarding, clear paths, single correct way
- Lateral-optimised: room to explore, multiple entry points, transparent methodology
Most UX principles assume only the first
The business case isn’t “replace your frameworks”. It’s “expand them to catch what they’re missing”.
Expanding the Framework
Our existing models don’t need to be thrown out. They need an additional dimension.
“Need + Emotion = Motivation”
Even if need and emotion are present, if the path to fulfilment requires linear, goal-focused execution and the person operates laterally and exploratorily, motivation won’t necessarily translate to action.
“Moeten, Kunnen, Willen, Gunnen”
- Does this person need freedom to explore before committing?
- Does the approach match their cognitive style?
- Is their motivation in the doing or in the done?
- Do they need to understand the “why this way” before they can engage?
Detection questions expand from:
- “Must they do this?” (moeten)
- “Can they do this?” (kunnen)
- “Do they want this?” (willen)
- “Are they ready?” (gunnen)
To include:
- “How do they think?” (cognitive profile)
- “What energises them: process or outcome?” (motivational orientation)
- “Do they need landscape understanding first?” (exploratory vs. exploitative)
- “Are they motivated by direct achievement or enabling others?” (contribution style)
Designing for Desire Paths
The park designers have two choices when they see the grass paths cutting across their lawns:
- Put up fences, try to force people back onto the paved routes
- Pave the desire paths, acknowledging that their original design missed something about how people actually move
The second approach doesn’t mean the original paths were wrong. It means the design is now more complete and more inclusive.
The same applies to motivation frameworks. We can keep trying to force exploratory thinkers to behave like exploitative ones, labelling them as unmotivated when they don’t. Or we can acknowledge that our frameworks were built for one part of the motivational spectrum and expand them to catch what they’ve been missing.
This isn’t about creating special accommodations for a small minority. Research on exploration vs. exploitation suggests significant variation across the population. The question isn’t whether exploratory motivation exists; it’s whether our systems are designed to recognise and work with it.
The olifantenpaadjes appear because people are trying to tell us something about how they actually want to move. The same is true in business: when prospects keep asking “why” questions, when employees seem unfocused but make crucial connections, when customers don’t convert despite having need and emotion, they’re not broken; they’re showing us where our frameworks are incomplete.
The worn grass paths aren’t vandalism. They’re data.
Questions for Reflection
This article isn’t claiming to have solved motivation. It’s raising a question: What becomes visible when we expand our frameworks?
Look at your own context:
- Do you have prospects who seem ready but don’t convert, who ask dozens of questions about methodology and alternatives?
- Do you have team members who seem scattered but make connections others miss?
- Do you have metrics that reward goal achievement but miss context-creation and infrastructure-building?
- Does your content strategy assume everyone wants to get to the outcome as quickly as possible?
If so, you might not have a motivation problem. You might have a detection problem.
The frameworks we’ve built aren’t wrong. But they’re incomplete. And what they’re missing might be more valuable than we realise.
After all, if we want to play a game of sports and we want an audience to enjoy it, someone has to build the stadium.
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