What actually happens downstream.
The cascade is predictable, and most Grand Lodge officers can name parts of it from memory:
Questions don't get fully answered. They get %em managed. The secretary asking about the arrears report gets a workaround that addresses today's question and not the underlying gap. The workaround works until it doesn't.
Errors compound. A lodge secretary uses the wrong field for two years. Reports come out a little off. Nobody catches it until an audit, or a transition, or a situation where the data has to be exactly right and isn't.
Training never reaches the front lines. The people who use the software daily (lodge secretaries, treasurers, membership chairs, registrars) get whatever Grand Lodge staff can pass along, working from the same partial training they received themselves.
Grand Lodge staff spend time they don't have answering questions they weren't hired to answer. Their actual work, the work the jurisdiction is paying them to do, gets pushed to the edges of the day.
And the system itself, which was bought to do far more than it currently does, sits underused. Not because the platform can't do the work. Because the lodge users haven't been given the support to use it fully.
There's a structural reason for that, too. The vendor never needed to design the platform to be self-supporting, because the vendor's support model presumed somebody else (your Grand Lodge staff, your overworked secretaries) would absorb the questions. Software designed for admin-tier expertise stays opaque to volunteer users, by default. The under-use isn't an accident. It's the predictable result of a product that was never built to teach itself.