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Why Veterinary Medicine Resists Systems Thinking

Veterinary medicine understands systems better than most professions. We know how ecosystems, pathogens, and populations interact. We think holistically about One Health, biosecurity, and epidemiology.

Yet when it comes to ourselves, we go blind.

Instead of looking at systems, we individualise.

We tell a burned-out colleague to be more resilient. We call it imposter syndrome when a new graduate struggles. We frame attrition as a personal choice, not the predictable product of structures.

This reflex to individualise isn’t accidental. It’s woven into our culture.

Simply put, when it comes to addressing the profession’s workforce crises — attrition, burnout, exclusion, moral injury — it consistently defaults to one narrow lens: the individual.

This is not a small oversight. It is a systemic blind spot so big, it’s almost the elephant in the room. And it comes at a cost the profession can no longer afford.

The Origins of Individualisation in the Profession

To understand why veterinary medicine resists systems thinking, we need to look back at the forces that shaped its culture. These forces are so internalised, and so deep, that many reading this will reflexively bristle against what follows:

1. Professional identity.

From the first day of vet school, students are taught that the health of the animal is their responsibility. Success is internalised, mistakes are carried alone. That training builds clinicians — but it also builds a culture where outcomes are always framed as individual success or failure, making it harder to ask whether the system set someone up to thrive or to fail.

2. The myth of meritocracy.

We cling to the idea that the best and brightest rise through hard work alone. Systemic barriers — financial strain, bias, inaccessible workplaces — don’t fit that story, so they’re ignored. Residencies illustrate this best: prestigious, yet accessible mainly to those with the socioeconomic means and support to push through years of low pay. Those who “make it” are celebrated; those who leave are labelled “not strong enough.

3. The hidden curriculum of endurance.

Endurance is valorised. Vet school and early career training normalise sleep deprivation, financial hardship, emotional exhaustion. To survive these conditions is to prove belonging. To question them is to risk being seen as unfit.

4. Economic convenience.

Blaming individuals is cheap. If burnout is your resilience problem, then universities don’t have to redesign placements. If attrition is about imposter syndrome, employers don’t have to change pay, rosters, or toxic cultures. Individualisation is cheaper than systems reform.

5. A narrow problem-solving lens.

Veterinarians are trained in reductionist clinical reasoning: find the diseased organ, prescribe the fix. Applied to workplaces, this logic makes individuals the site of dysfunction — instead of the system.

The Cost of Individualising

When we frame systemic problems as personal failings:

• We patholgoise normal responses to broken systems into diagnoses.

• Burnout is seen as lack of resilience, when organisational psychology shows it is largely a response to unsafe conditions.

• Moral injury becomes a failure to cope.

• Exclusion is recast as “poor fit,” instead of flawed culture and design.

• We obscure accountability, letting institutions off the hook, and pushing responsibility onto individuals.

• We miss leverage points, and pour resources into resilience workshops instead of structural reform.

It’s no surprise that so many talented colleagues quietly leave, believing they were not “strong enough,” when in reality they were carrying impossible loads.

The Power of Systems Thinking

Systems thinking flips the question. Instead of asking: “What’s wrong with this person?” we ask: “What about our system was inevitable and produced this outcome?”

That shift opens new possibilities:

• If imposter syndrome is widespread, perhaps our teaching, assessment, and hierarchies are designed to create it.

• If burnout is endemic, perhaps our workload models are unsafe — or our cultures prevent people from being themselves.

• If people can’t disclose disability or identity safely, perhaps our policies and cultures aren’t fit for purpose.

This shift doesn’t erase personal responsibility — it restores balance by placing responsibility where it belongs: on structures, leadership, and culture.

Why Veterinary Medicine Fears It

The profession resist systems thinking in workforce issues - because it shatters cherished myths.

• It dismantles meritocracy by showing how privilege shapes careers.

• It threatens leaders whose identity is built on toughness and survival.

• It exposes hidden costs and asks institutions to pay for what has long been externalised onto individuals.

Systems thinking shines a light on accountability — and in a culture steeped in blame and shame, accountability feels dangerous.

Where We Go From Here

Veterinary medicine can’t afford to keep individualising what are clearly systemic failures. We need to build workplaces where resilience is not required for survival, where belonging isn’t an exception, and where responsibility is shared. We are particularly prone to this type of thinking. People I speak to from outside of veterinary medicine are horrified that the individualisation discourse is so widespread.

The good news? We already know how to do this. Other sectors — aviation, human healthcare, education — have embraced systems approaches. Veterinary medicine can, too. It starts with naming the pattern: the profession’s reflex to individualise. Only then can we move from blaming people to redesigning systems.

At Vetquity, we call this “turning inclusion into infrastructure.” Because resilience is not a strategy. Systems thinking is.

The choice before us is simple:

• Keep individualising — and watch talent drain away.

• Or embrace systems thinking — and finally design a profession where everyone can belong, and thrive.

Systems thinking isn’t optional. It is the next test of veterinary leadership.