Are Teams Ever Really “Formed”?

Teams don’t move through neat stages—they flow like waves. Just as a body surfer reads the ocean’s rhythm, leaders must sense the patterns beneath team dynamics. Tuckman’s model still guides us, but today’s teams evolve continuously—riding change with awareness, adaptability, and trust.

Are Teams Ever Really “Formed”?

Honouring Tuckman’s Model While Evolving How We Think About Teams

By David LeBlanc

When Bruce Tuckman introduced his now-famous model of Forming, Storming, Norming, and Performing in 1965, he offered the world a simple but powerful way to understand how groups become teams. His insight helped leaders make sense of something that often felt unpredictable — the human process of learning to work together.

For decades, this model has guided facilitators, coaches, and team leaders in recognizing that tension and uncertainty are not signs of failure but natural stages on the path toward cohesion and performance. It remains one of the most referenced frameworks in team development — and for good reason.

Yet, nearly sixty years later, the world in which teams operate looks profoundly different. The pace of change, the fluidity of roles, and the very definition of what constitutes a “team” have all shifted. Tuckman’s model remains relevant — but perhaps it invites us now to look at it through a new lens.

From Linear Stages to Living Systems

Tuckman described development as a series of progressive stages: a team forms, experiences conflict, establishes norms, and ultimately performs. In many organizational contexts of his time, that made perfect sense — teams were relatively stable, hierarchies were clear, and change was episodic.

Today, however, most teams live inside systems defined by continuous change. Projects emerge and end quickly. Hybrid work blurs boundaries. Team membership evolves as people move between initiatives and networks. As a result, we rarely experience the clean sequence of stages Tuckman described.

Instead, we might think of these stages as recurring patterns — ones that arise in parallel and repeat over time. A team might be performing in one domain while simultaneously re-forming in another. A new leader joins and the team re-enters a period of storming. A reorganization prompts new norms. What once felt like a staircase now feels more like a rhythm — a movement between alignment and adaptation.

I often compare this rhythm to the art of body surfing. A skilled surfer doesn’t control the ocean — they learn to read it. They study the currents, sense the pull beneath the surface, and move with the energy rather than against it. Teams operate in much the same way. The leader’s role is not to eliminate turbulence but to understand the patterns that create it. Mastery comes from learning how to ride the wave — aligning with the natural rhythm of movement and change — while appreciating that there is always a measure of chaos swirling beneath the surface. It’s in that interplay between awareness and surrender that real flow emerges.

Honouring the Original Intent

To reinterpret a model is not to reject it. In fact, Tuckman’s work continues to hold deep wisdom. His model gives language to the essential truth that collaboration requires time, dialogue, and discomfort. The insight that teams must move through, not around, tension remains timeless.

What’s different now is not the nature of human relationships — it’s the context in which they unfold. The complexity of our systems means that teams are continuously evolving. They don’t graduate from “storming” once and for all; rather, they build the capacity to move through it more skillfully each time it reappears.

This is where the art of leadership shows up. Today’s leaders are called not just to guide teams through stages, but to create space for emergence — for dialogue, reflection, and renewal amid constant movement.

Teams as Dynamic Ecosystems

We might now see teams less as structures and more as ecosystems — living systems that are always forming, adapting, and integrating. In this view, “norming” isn’t a destination; it’s an ongoing act of collective sense-making. “Performing” isn’t a peak to reach; it’s a rhythm sustained through trust, curiosity, and adaptability.

In a world where the rate of change will never again be this slow, the strongest teams are those that can navigate tension without losing connection. They understand that forming and storming are not early-stage experiences to outgrow but natural dynamics that resurface whenever growth occurs.

Evolving the Conversation

Rather than replacing Tuckman’s model, perhaps our role as leaders and coaches is to expand it — to hold space for the beautiful complexity of what teaming means today. His framework remains a foundation, a shared language. Our task is to build on that foundation with new insights drawn from systems thinking, emotional intelligence, and collective learning.

Teams, like people, evolve in spirals, not straight lines. They revisit familiar stages with new awareness, carrying forward the lessons of their last storm.

So maybe the real question isn’t “What stage is your team in?” but “How is your team growing through its current cycle of forming and storming?”

Because in this age of continuous transformation, the most effective teams aren’t the ones that have “arrived” at performing — they’re the ones that know how to keep evolving together.