Ask most people what they remember from their last corporate treasure hunt or city rally, and the answer is rarely the puzzle they solved.

It’s the sunburn. The colleague who took over the group. The awkward conversation with a stranger. Or the quiet dread of being handed a clipboard and told to “have fun.”

And I understand that feeling because I’ve felt it myself.

After years of working in team building and seeing all kinds of teams and personalities, I’ve noticed the same thing again and again: many people don’t dread the treasure hunt itself. They dread being forced to do things they wouldn’t normally do.

They don’t want to run around a city shouting at strangers. They don’t want to perform in front of their colleagues. They don’t want to compete. They don’t want to be pushed into the spotlight.

And yet, this is still how a lot of team building is designed.

The idea seems to be that if we push people outside their comfort zones, they will communicate more, collaborate more and ultimately become a stronger team.

We don’t believe that.

In fact, we believe that forcing people out of their comfort zones can work against what a team is actually trying to achieve.

Start with the people, not the activity

From the very beginning, our approach to team building has been based on a simple belief:

You don’t build a better team by making everyone behave the same way. You build a better team by understanding and valuing what makes each person different.

Every team is made up of different personalities, talents and ways of thinking.

Some people are naturally analytical. They notice patterns, think things through and spot details that others miss.

Some are natural communicators. They can walk up to a stranger, start a conversation and get information without thinking twice.

Some are organizers. When everyone else is getting distracted, they’re the ones keeping the group focused and moving forward.

Some love competition. They want the clock, the scoreboard, the win.

Some love performing. Put them in front of a crowd, a local, a camera, and they come alive.

Some are drawn to a city itself, the history behind a building, the story behind a street name, and they’ll happily go down that rabbit hole while the rest of the group waits.

Some are planners. Give them a map and a set of points and they’ll work out the smartest route between them before anyone else has finished reading the brief.

Some are creative. Some are calm under pressure. Some are incredibly good at seeing the bigger picture.

None of these qualities is better than the others.

So why would we design a team-building activity that rewards one type of personality and forces everyone else to behave like them?

That’s where we do things differently.

Everyone gets to do what they’re good at

This isn’t only about protecting the people who hate performing or competing. It’s just as much about the people who love it.

If someone lights up in front of a crowd, they should get to perform, not be held back because the format has to work for the quiet ones too. If someone thrives on competition, they should get a real clock and a real scoreboard, not a watered-down version designed not to offend anyone. The point was never to soften everything to the lowest common denominator. It’s that nobody has to do the thing that isn’t them in order for someone else to get to do the thing that is.

If someone doesn’t want to approach strangers, we don’t believe they should have to.

If someone doesn’t enjoy being the centre of attention, we don’t see a reason to put them on stage.

If someone would rather sit down and solve a complicated puzzle than run across a square looking for clues, that’s not a weakness.

It’s a clue about where their strengths might be. And it sits alongside the colleague three feet away who’s having the time of their life doing exactly what they’d never want to do.

Our challenges are designed so that different people can contribute in different ways.

The quiet strategist might be the person who notices the pattern that unlocks the entire challenge.

The natural communicator might be the one who gets the crucial piece of information from someone outside the team.

The organizer might be the person who notices that everyone is heading in the wrong direction and gets them back on track.

The performer might be the one who wins over a local shopkeeper or draws a crowd for the group’s next clue.

The route planner might be the one who works out how to hit every point without wasting a single minute.

The creative thinker might find a solution nobody else considered.

The important thing is that these contributions aren’t optional extras.

The challenge is designed so that the team genuinely needs them.

And none of this comes from a template. Every treasure hunt or city rally we build is bespoke to the group in front of us, shaped around who they actually are rather than a generic route we run for anyone who books us. The mix of personalities in one team is never the mix in another, so the challenge that brings out the best in them can’t be either.

That’s very different from simply telling someone, “You can sit this one out if you’re uncomfortable.”

We’re not trying to accommodate differences.

We’re trying to make those differences valuable.

The goal is appreciation

For us, one of the most important outcomes of team building is something that is often overlooked: appreciation.

The whole idea behind our team building is to enhance people’s natural capacities, not correct them, and to build appreciation for the different capacities everyone else brings.

A good team doesn’t need everyone to have the same strengths.

It needs people to understand what their colleagues are good at, recognize the value of those abilities and understand how those differences make the team stronger.

Imagine leaving a team-building activity knowing something new about the person you sit next to every day.

You discover that the quiet person in the office is incredibly good at seeing patterns.

You realize that the person who always talks in meetings is actually brilliant at bringing people together.

You see that the colleague who seems overly organized is the one who keeps everyone calm when things start going wrong.

Those discoveries matter.

Because once you recognize someone’s strength, you start seeing it differently in everyday work.

The activity isn’t the learning

And then there is the part that happens after the challenge.

Running around a city for two hours doesn’t automatically teach a team anything.

The learning comes from reflecting on what happened.

Who naturally took the lead? Who noticed something everyone else missed? Who kept the team calm? Who brought people together? Who had a great idea but didn’t get heard? Who was able to contribute in a way they might not normally get the opportunity to at work?

That’s why the debrief is so important to us.

We connect what happened during the challenge back to the way the team actually works.

Because the goal isn’t simply to have a fun afternoon.

It’s to give people a different perspective on themselves and, perhaps more importantly, on each other.

Team building shouldn’t be about changing people

I don’t hate treasure hunts because treasure hunts are inherently bad.

I hate the idea that people need to be pushed, pressured or made uncomfortable in order to become better team members.

A team is not stronger because everyone can do everything.

It’s stronger because different people can do different things, and everyone understands the value of those differences.

So we start with the people, not the route.

We look at the personalities, talents and natural ways of contributing that already exist within the team.

Then we design a challenge that brings those strengths out, makes them visible and gives everyone a reason to appreciate them.

Because the best team-building experience isn’t the one where everyone behaves outside their comfort zone.

It’s the one where everyone discovers why their own way of contributing matters, and why they need the people who contribute differently from them.

Ask most people what they remember from their last corporate treasure hunt or city rally, and the answer is rarely the puzzle they solved.

It’s the sunburn. The colleague who took over the group. The awkward conversation with a stranger. Or the quiet dread of being handed a clipboard and told to “have fun.”

And I understand that feeling because I’ve felt it myself.

After years of working in team building and seeing all kinds of teams and personalities, I’ve noticed the same thing again and again: many people don’t dread the treasure hunt itself. They dread being forced to do things they wouldn’t normally do.

They don’t want to run around a city shouting at strangers. They don’t want to perform in front of their colleagues. They don’t want to compete. They don’t want to be pushed into the spotlight.

And yet, this is still how a lot of team building is designed.

The idea seems to be that if we push people outside their comfort zones, they will communicate more, collaborate more and ultimately become a stronger team.

We don’t believe that.

In fact, we believe that forcing people out of their comfort zones can work against what a team is actually trying to achieve.

Start with the people, not the activity

From the very beginning, our approach to team building has been based on a simple belief:

You don’t build a better team by making everyone behave the same way. You build a better team by understanding and valuing what makes each person different.

Every team is made up of different personalities, talents and ways of thinking.

Some people are naturally analytical. They notice patterns, think things through and spot details that others miss.

Some are natural communicators. They can walk up to a stranger, start a conversation and get information without thinking twice.

Some are organizers. When everyone else is getting distracted, they’re the ones keeping the group focused and moving forward.

Some love competition. They want the clock, the scoreboard, the win.

Some love performing. Put them in front of a crowd, a local, a camera, and they come alive.

Some are drawn to a city itself, the history behind a building, the story behind a street name, and they’ll happily go down that rabbit hole while the rest of the group waits.

Some are planners. Give them a map and a set of points and they’ll work out the smartest route between them before anyone else has finished reading the brief.

Some are creative. Some are calm under pressure. Some are incredibly good at seeing the bigger picture.

None of these qualities is better than the others.

So why would we design a team-building activity that rewards one type of personality and forces everyone else to behave like them?

That’s where we do things differently.

Everyone gets to do what they’re good at

This isn’t only about protecting the people who hate performing or competing. It’s just as much about the people who love it.

If someone lights up in front of a crowd, they should get to perform, not be held back because the format has to work for the quiet ones too. If someone thrives on competition, they should get a real clock and a real scoreboard, not a watered-down version designed not to offend anyone. The point was never to soften everything to the lowest common denominator. It’s that nobody has to do the thing that isn’t them in order for someone else to get to do the thing that is.

If someone doesn’t want to approach strangers, we don’t believe they should have to.

If someone doesn’t enjoy being the centre of attention, we don’t see a reason to put them on stage.

If someone would rather sit down and solve a complicated puzzle than run across a square looking for clues, that’s not a weakness.

It’s a clue about where their strengths might be. And it sits alongside the colleague three feet away who’s having the time of their life doing exactly what they’d never want to do.

Our challenges are designed so that different people can contribute in different ways.

The quiet strategist might be the person who notices the pattern that unlocks the entire challenge.

The natural communicator might be the one who gets the crucial piece of information from someone outside the team.

The organizer might be the person who notices that everyone is heading in the wrong direction and gets them back on track.

The performer might be the one who wins over a local shopkeeper or draws a crowd for the group’s next clue.

The route planner might be the one who works out how to hit every point without wasting a single minute.

The creative thinker might find a solution nobody else considered.

The important thing is that these contributions aren’t optional extras.

The challenge is designed so that the team genuinely needs them.

And none of this comes from a template. Every treasure hunt or city rally we build is bespoke to the group in front of us, shaped around who they actually are rather than a generic route we run for anyone who books us. The mix of personalities in one team is never the mix in another, so the challenge that brings out the best in them can’t be either.

That’s very different from simply telling someone, “You can sit this one out if you’re uncomfortable.”

We’re not trying to accommodate differences.

We’re trying to make those differences valuable.

The goal is appreciation

For us, one of the most important outcomes of team building is something that is often overlooked: appreciation.

The whole idea behind our team building is to enhance people’s natural capacities, not correct them, and to build appreciation for the different capacities everyone else brings.

A good team doesn’t need everyone to have the same strengths.

It needs people to understand what their colleagues are good at, recognize the value of those abilities and understand how those differences make the team stronger.

Imagine leaving a team-building activity knowing something new about the person you sit next to every day.

You discover that the quiet person in the office is incredibly good at seeing patterns.

You realize that the person who always talks in meetings is actually brilliant at bringing people together.

You see that the colleague who seems overly organized is the one who keeps everyone calm when things start going wrong.

Those discoveries matter.

Because once you recognize someone’s strength, you start seeing it differently in everyday work.

The activity isn’t the learning

And then there is the part that happens after the challenge.

Running around a city for two hours doesn’t automatically teach a team anything.

The learning comes from reflecting on what happened.

Who naturally took the lead? Who noticed something everyone else missed? Who kept the team calm? Who brought people together? Who had a great idea but didn’t get heard? Who was able to contribute in a way they might not normally get the opportunity to at work?

That’s why the debrief is so important to us.

We connect what happened during the challenge back to the way the team actually works.

Because the goal isn’t simply to have a fun afternoon.

It’s to give people a different perspective on themselves and, perhaps more importantly, on each other.

Team building shouldn’t be about changing people

I don’t hate treasure hunts because treasure hunts are inherently bad.

I hate the idea that people need to be pushed, pressured or made uncomfortable in order to become better team members.

A team is not stronger because everyone can do everything.

It’s stronger because different people can do different things, and everyone understands the value of those differences.

So we start with the people, not the route.

We look at the personalities, talents and natural ways of contributing that already exist within the team.

Then we design a challenge that brings those strengths out, makes them visible and gives everyone a reason to appreciate them.

Because the best team-building experience isn’t the one where everyone behaves outside their comfort zone.

It’s the one where everyone discovers why their own way of contributing matters, and why they need the people who contribute differently from them.