Welcome to Changemaker Stories from LOCAL – an ongoing series of personal interviews with leaders driving change across every industry and discipline. Because change shouldn't mean going it alone.
Alexis Fink brings a rare blend of scientific rigor and lived experience to the world of organizational change. With a PhD in industrial-organizational psychology and decades leading transformation inside some of the world’s most influential companies, she has a unique perspective on how real change happens—and what gets in the way.
I've slayed my professional dragons. Now I'm buying back control of my life. I’ve worked as an organizational psychologist by training and a builder of better workplaces by trade. Over the last three decades, I’ve worked inside BASF, Microsoft, Intel, and Meta, leading transformations where data meets humanity. But these days, I’m on a different kind of journey: one that’s rooted in freedom, focus, and meaningful impact.
Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is walk away from success. After years of high-intensity leadership roles, I realized that the life I’d built no longer fit the values I wanted to live. The calendar said it all—14 meetings a day, working through weekends, and squeezing family time between pre-dawn emails and late-night slide decks. I had earned the right to rest. So I gave myself a summer off for the first time since 1987. Not to disconnect—but to realign.
I believe great leaders make themselves obsolete. The job isn’t just about rising to the top. It’s about building teams, systems, and cultures that thrive without you. I’ve coached executives, led large-scale org changes, and supported teams through layoffs. But the throughline is always the same: equip people to lead with clarity, and then get out of the way.
Work is where identity, security, and connection converge. That’s why it matters. I considered becoming a therapist once. But I realized that most people’s struggles and breakthroughs happen at work. If I could help people navigate that space—solve the tough problems, reshape broken systems, and actually feel good about what they do—then that’s where I could make the biggest difference.
The best transformation I ever led saved a company—and a town. At a struggling paint plant in Alabama, we cut cycle time from 27 days to just over one. That single shift meant no more forced overtime, fewer environmental hazards, happier customers, and better margins. It worked because we didn’t swoop in with corporate arrogance. We listened. We fixed what drove people crazy. We found the guy everyone respected (the town’s former star quarterback) and gave him agency. We honored humanity—and the math followed.
“Change is good. But changing? That’s a whole different story.”
Being changed is harder than change itself. Change is natural, necessary, and often good. But being changed? That’s where people struggle. They grieve old identities, fear loss of control, and resist when they feel left out. That’s why I emphasize psychological safety and trust—because mandates may create compliance, but only trust creates belief.
Culture isn’t what you say—it’s what people experience. I get frustrated when companies use off-the-shelf tools to measure culture. Culture is nuanced, and it requires listening. I’ve used everything from sticky notes on breakroom walls to sentiment pulses every two weeks. The key isn’t finding the perfect metric—it’s creating space for real signals to emerge, and then having the courage to act on what you learn.
Trust is built on three things: competence, integrity, and benevolence. That framework has guided my comms strategies for nearly two decades. People need to know that you’re capable, that you’ll do what you say, and that you’ve got their best interest at heart. Miss one, and you lose the flywheel of trust.
AI won’t replace humans—but it will expose who’s misusing it. I’m deeply engaged with the academic research on AI in the workplace. It’s clear that AI works best when it augments human creativity—not replaces it. The risk isn’t just technical errors, it’s cultural ones. The biggest variable in AI-related depression? Psychological safety. The antidote? Ethical leadership.
These days, I find inspiration in the quiet power of nature. Our family cabin in Northern Michigan has no prestige, no meetings, and no performance reviews—just still water, forest trails, and the freedom to notice a chipmunk on your feet during a Zoom call. That’s where I reconnect to what matters.
My next chapter isn’t about scaling ladders. It’s about scaling impact. I’m open to coaching, consulting, and collaborations that honor both sides of the equation: head and heart. Data and people. Purpose and performance. That’s where real change lives.
