Beyond Slogans: The Four Kinds of Hope (and How to Build the Right One)
On his first speech as Prime Minister, Andy Burnham closed with a call to “bring back hope”. When we are talking about hope, it's worth asking what kind of hope and understanding that we can get stuck in the wrong one.
In my last post, on creating hope in complex systems, I explored why leaders need to close the gap between aspiration and credibility and how design thinking is a reliable way to do it. But what if you're the person on the ground who doesn't need convincing that things could be better? Sarah (not her real name) is a GP I’ve worked with who is not short on vision. She has a clear sense that she wants to make more of a difference in the world. What she doesn't have is a route to get there.
Hope isn’t the poster on the wall or the ten-year plan. It lies in understanding the real problem, followed by a first step you can actually see yourself taking.
Meister, Dael and Bach argue that hope is a motivational force that can move you towards your goals, but only when what you're doing is visibly linked to a future you can actually believe in. Whether hope helps you or quietly wears you down depends on two things: the size of the aspiration driving it and the credibility of pathway to realising it. According to the authors, the interplay of those factors creates four distinct states of hope. It's worth knowing exactly which state of hope is at play and which to harness.
The four kinds of hope
According to Meister, Dael and Bach, there are four distinct types of hope.
Inflated hope is big on aspiration with no credible pathway to realise it. This is Sarah's territory. She’s noticed a feeling of hopelessness creeping up on her, not because her goal is wrong, but because the path from where she is now to where she wants to be doesn't feel real.
Empty hope, on the other hand, is on high credibility but low on aspiration. This is what happens when the vision shrinks to fit what feels achievable. Vision and ambition is quietly replaced with what, on the outside, looks like capability and resilience. Make no mistake, this is a managed decline.
Stabilising hope is realistic, incremental and grounded. Unlikely to attract headline news, it's the small and consistent steps that take you towards your goal.
Mobilising hope is a genuinely compelling vision, with a visible, credible pathway and consistent follow-through. This is the one worth aiming for but it's rare, not because the vision is hard to find, but because the pathway is.
Why the pathway is so hard to build
Most senior doctors I talk to move between inflated and empty hope. I know, because for years that person was me. When you're stuck like this, the instinct is to reach for a solution, like making a plan, doing a course or undertaking a project. Now, no one loves a project more than me, but reaching for a solution before properly understanding the problem runs the risk of solving the wrong thing. The real problem persists or gets worse, costing effort and causing disillusionment.
Fostering hope
Hope needs real structure, not just intention. Wanting something isn't enough. Aspiration on its own can quietly become a risk rather than a source of energy when just sits there, unmet, reminding you of the gap between where you are now and where you want to be. Hope needs structure - a next step, protected time or a small proof point.
Small steps build hope that renews itself. Hope that builds on small, real results replenishes itself instead. A short, honest prototype or “proof of concept” experiment beats unachievable aspiration.
Hope is earned incrementally and lost quickly. Hope can spark fast and evaporate just as quickly, especially when the consistency is lost. For our GP, Sarah, this means promising herself a fresh start and then quietly dropping it (again) can be more damaging than not starting at all.
Hope works best as a daily habit. The temptation is to leave this kind of reflection for times when things feel unbearable. But hope that only appears under pressure is hard to sustain. Instead treat it as something to tend to regularly through small, honest check-ins with yourself, even in an ordinary week. That builds the type of hope that holds when things do get hard.
What this means practically
If you recognise inflated or empty hope in your situation, it’s useful to ask yourself "what is actually going on here?"
What specifically does hopelessness look and feel like for you?
Where is it showing up? Does it lie in the pace of change, the scope of your role, how decisions get made around you or something that’s missing in your life?
What are you assuming about the cause of that dissatisfaction that you haven't actually tested?
This may be slower than reaching for a solution, but the effort you put into building and maintain hope connects it to a future you can believe in and make real.
Hope isn't the poster on the wall or the ten-year plan. It's the small, honest understanding of a real problem, followed by a first step you can actually see yourself taking. Burnham’s “moment we bring back hope,” lies not in the slogan or a speech that names a mood. It lies in the steady, grounded steps that make hope credible and sustain it in the ordinary weeks ahead.
Reflecting on: Meister, A., Dael, N. & Bach, D. (2026). "For Hope to Inspire, It Has to Be Grounded in Organizational Reality." Harvard Business Review.
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