Founders often talk about strategy, capital, and product. Yet the thing that quietly decides whether any of that works is something less visible. It lives in WhatsApp chats, tense Zoom calls, awkward silences in meetings, and the way people talk about each other when no one is listening. That thing is team dynamics, and for a young company it is often the line between momentum and slow collapse.
You can see it in the eyes of a founder who is doing all the “right” things on paper. There is some runway in the bank. The product is not perfect, but it is live. A few hires are spread across Kuala Lumpur, Jakarta, maybe Riyadh or Singapore. The deck looks solid. Yet when you ask how it feels to run the company, the answer is usually not about product-market fit. It is about people. One cofounder has gone quiet. A senior hire agrees to everything in meetings but ignores half of the decisions. The group chat that used to be full of jokes and wild ideas has turned into a stream of tasks and complaints. The company has not changed its logo or mission, but something in the way the team moves together has shifted.
That is what team dynamics really are. They are not the words in your culture deck. They are the repeated patterns of how people behave with each other when the pressure is high and the information is incomplete. In a large corporate, bad dynamics are an annoyance. In a startup, they are existential.
Strategy is a good example. Every founder can show you a Notion page or a slide with ambitious plans. New markets. Aggressive targets. Clear roadmaps. In reality, those plans only move forward through the daily micro choices of the team. The speed at which bad news travels, the way people speak up or stay silent, the comfort level with disagreement, the habit of closing loops or leaving things vague. All of that is team dynamics. If a product manager in Singapore is afraid to tell the CEO in Riyadh that a launch date is unrealistic, the strategy is already broken. If the sales lead in Johor Bahru hides poor numbers to avoid blame, your dashboards are already lying to you. The bridge between your plans and what actually happens is made of human interactions, not just tools and processes.
When team dynamics are healthy, they do not always look glamorous, but they are very noticeable from the inside. A junior engineer in Penang can say, “I do not understand why we are prioritizing this feature, can we walk through the trade off,” and no one makes them feel foolish. A marketing head in Jeddah can admit, “I misjudged this campaign, here is what I learned and what I will change next quarter,” and the response is focused on learning, not humiliation. In meetings, people can disagree intensely, then still share a relaxed lunch without carrying emotional debt.
Healthy dynamics show up in small, consistent rituals. The founder listens first in check ins instead of dominating the conversation. Decisions are documented so that no one needs to read minds. Conflicts are tackled directly instead of being outsourced to side chats. People are honest about bad news early, which means the team has time to respond before a small problem becomes a major crisis. You know the dynamics are working when tension leads to clearer thinking instead of resignation letters.
When dynamics go wrong, it is often slower and more subtle than a dramatic blow up. A founder might say, “We finally have the headcount we wanted, but it feels harder to move than when it was just two of us.” That heaviness is usually not about competence. It is about the invisible rules people have learned about what is safe. The operations lead stops challenging unrealistic timelines because they are tired of being labeled negative. Product quietly drops scope to survive the sprint, without looping in sales. Customer support hears the same complaint repeatedly but assumes someone else will escalate it. Everyone is a little tired, a little defensive, and a little less honest.
From the outside, the company still looks fine. The website is live. Social media is active. Investors see the usual updates. Inside, it feels like trying to drive a car with the handbrake half up. Meetings multiply, decisions are revisited constantly, and people protect themselves rather than the shared mission. That slow drag is the cost of bad dynamics, and it compounds just like interest.
Team dynamics are also your earliest form of risk management. Many founders fixate on external risks: regulations, cash runway, competitor moves. All of those matter. But for early stage companies in Southeast Asia or the Gulf, it is often the internal relational risks that hit first. Cofounder breakups rarely happen because of a single disagreement. They build slowly. One person feels publicly undermined too many times. Another feels they are the only one holding emotional responsibility for the team. Roles blur, expectations are not clarified, and unresolved resentment piles up until a small trigger leads to a big rupture.
Good dynamics act as an early warning system. People feel safe enough to say, “Our roles have become confusing,” or “I feel like you override me in front of the team,” or “We are burning out and pretending we are fine.” These conversations are uncomfortable and sometimes messy, but they give you a chance to repair. When dynamics are weak, the warning signs do not come in words. They arrive as chronic delays, vague excuses, missed messages, and sudden resignations. By the time you see the pattern clearly, the damage is already deep.
Founders often underestimate how much their own behavior sets the tone. Whatever you model becomes the default template for the team. If you reply to messages at two in the morning and celebrate that as dedication, people learn that rest is optional. If you change direction every week and never acknowledge the cost of rework, they learn that long term planning is a waste of energy. If you avoid hard performance conversations in the name of “we are family,” they learn that accountability is inconsistent and political.
The opposite is also true. When you admit your own mistakes, people learn that vulnerability is allowed at the top. When you say, “I was too sharp in yesterday’s meeting, thank you for telling me,” you show that power can co exist with humility. When you actively ask the quieter team members for their views, you make it clear that contribution is not reserved for the loudest voice in the room. For all the talk about flat structures, if the founder continues to make every decision alone, the team will inevitably wait passively for instructions. Your habits are writing the real rulebook, whether you are intentional about it or not.
The importance of team dynamics becomes even sharper when you think about timing. Many teams postpone serious conversations about culture or norms until they have grown to thirty or forty people. By then, patterns are entrenched and much harder to shift. At five or ten people, you still have the flexibility to co design how you want to work together. That does not require an expensive offsite or a glossy handbook. It starts with a few simple agreements, repeated often and practiced daily.
You might agree that bad news travels fast and without blame. That disagreements are surfaced in the room, not in private chats afterward. That every major decision is written down in a simple, shared place. You can build the habit of asking in weekly check ins: where did we feel friction this week, which decision felt unclear, who felt overruled or unseen, what difficult conversation are we postponing. These questions sound soft, but they are operational. Every unresolved tension consumes mental energy and slows execution.
For teams that span Malaysia, Singapore, and KSA, you also need to recognise the cultural layer in team dynamics. In some Saudi teams, hierarchy and respect are strong, and people may hesitate to contradict a senior leader publicly. In Singapore or Kuala Lumpur, you may see more direct pushback on data, but more avoidance when emotions are involved. Add remote or hybrid work on top of that, and it becomes even easier for misunderstandings to sit quietly in Slack channels and email threads. To keep a shared culture, you need explicit norms about how to raise concerns across levels and locations. If you leave it to “common sense”, everyone defaults to their local habits, and your company fragments into small islands.
If we were having a late night conversation after your investor meetings, and you asked me what really matters at your stage, I would say this. Before you obsess over your next funding round or your next feature launch, pay very close attention to how your team behaves when things are not going well. Listen to the way they describe each other when someone is not in the room. Notice who has stopped suggesting ideas. Notice which topics always get pushed to “later”. These are not background details. They are the earliest signs of where your company is heading.
The importance of team dynamics lies in the fact that almost everything else can be rebuilt. You can redesign a process or refactor a product. You can recover from a bad quarter or a misjudged campaign. But if your people have learned to relate to each other through fear, silence, or quiet hostility, any fix you introduce will be temporary. The real leak will still be there under the surface. You do not need a perfect team to build a resilient company. You need a team that can tell the truth, argue without destroying trust, and repair relationships when they inevitably make mistakes with each other. If you invest in cultivating those dynamics early, your strategy slides stop being a hopeful story. They become a path that real people can walk together, with all the messiness, learning, and progress that real work involves.
.jpg)







.jpg&w=3840&q=75)


.jpg&w=3840&q=75)