The Mirage of Compassion
Beware of leaders appearing more compassionate than they are.
As the world has changed dramatically in recent years, so too has the leadership landscape. Between the increase of workplace perks, the proliferation of social movements (Cancel Culture, #MeToo, BLM, and DEI), and a cultural focus on trauma and psychological safety, a new style of leadership has emerged—one that prioritizes comfort and happiness over performance.
Between 2009 and 2022, when interest rates were at historic lows, acquiring top talent was more difficult, so startups began incentivizing people to stay at their company by any means necessary: great benefits, perks, free food, work from home, and 4-day work weeks. The thinking was that the cushier the environment and lifestyle, the happier your people. And if your people are happy, they will stick around and perform better. Organizations faced increasing pressure to address issues of inequality, representation, and ethical behavior as stakeholders demanded accountability. Companies were willing to divert their focus from purely performance to workplace culture and ethics, and it seemed like most stakeholders wanted them to.
This movement was an important balancing of the scales from business practices of the past, and these efforts were certainly well-intentioned. But inadvertently, I believe this shift led to something I call the “mirage of compassion.” Leaders simultaneously did anything they could to keep their teams happy while also walking on eggshells to make sure they didn’t get called out or canceled. Because this movement was so often based on fear of losing people or being shamed—rather than a genuine spirit of care, and finding what was best for both the organization as a whole and all of its employees—a lot got lost in the process. Leaders lost their agenda, their permission to speak up when something wasn’t going well, their power, and their strength. They decided it was best not to have the tough conversation anymore. In essence, this social pressure and fear created the appearance of more compassion than there was.
Behind closed doors, the advice for fellow high-level founders was to play it safe and stay on the DL: don’t bring your full self to work, don’t share too much about your weekend, don’t tell anyone about the books you are reading, because you open yourself up to critique, you risk creating more problems, you give talented people material to get triggered, cancel you, or quit if they don’t like what they see. You open up a vulnerability that can be used as leverage against your goals (we’re not talking about the good kind of vulnerability here). Let’s just be super nice on the surface, keep quiet and placate.
Somewhere in the mix of all these conversations and well-intentioned movements towards change and greater equality, we lost the plot. We lost sight of what it was we were really going after: a more balanced, fair, and kind world. With the emphasis on “calling out” and “cancelling” as the stimulus for change, it became less about being a force for good—and more about avoiding being seen as “bad.” Which led many leaders to take on a posture of kindness and compassion, without fully embodying these qualities.
Of course, we need social movements to serve humanity’s evolution and address the many social, political, and environmental harms that have befallen our world. We need more women and minorities having a voice and having the opportunity to rise in business. More mindfulness, spiritual values, and “conscious business” at the forefront of the American corporate world has been a good thing in many respects. And like I said, it’s a much-needed balancing of the scales from decades (if not centuries) of male-dominated leadership that’s been sorely lacking in these important qualities.
The problem I see—beyond the pseudo-kindness and compassion it generated—is that in this pursuit, we’ve nearly eliminated rules, structure, directness, performance focus, and competitiveness. In this fragile environment, we started to be taught and believe that everyone is and should be treated as being extraordinarily special; we should all get an A for effort. We got rid of grades and gave everyone gold stars, we started to have no losers and winners, opting to give everyone the same medal because that felt better. In the pursuit of psychological safety, we threw away authority, standards, and procedures. When the aim is to have your people feel good, feedback starts to get minimized for the risk of triggering someone, work-from-home requests get granted even when they haven’t been earned, and comfort starts to creep in. In A Post-Truth World, Ken Wilbur writes, “In an attempt to remove all suffering from all life conditions, we’ve paralyzed our healthy business operating capacity.”[1]
I also want to challenge the notion that happiness drives performance. I agree that happiness drives retention. But where I disagree is that I do not think that happiness equals productivity. Think about how many happy people you know that are not productive. And think about all the unhappy people you know who are highly productive. Is it that happy people are less productive or is it that there is no correlation? It would be great to get down to the bottom of this. For me, I tend to feel less happy on my more productive days. My sense is that people are more productive when they are inspired by a great vision, set ambitious targets, are challenged and held accountable by their teammates, and have their basic needs met. But I’m not sure we need to go a whole lot further than this, at least in the workplace.
Now, as economic pressures mount with interest rates returning to historical norms and increased market volatility, the flaws of this ‘compassionate’ approach are becoming apparent. Perks are unsustainable. Productivity lags. Many big companies are bringing their people back to the office. We can no longer afford to confuse happiness with effectiveness; the mission of the company needs to be the main focus of the team. Productivity must rise, feedback must be given, and leaders must embrace the discomfort of being tough. The performance-based approach to leadership—cultivated over millennia—is making a necessary comeback. And I really hope it’s a comeback that can take a more integrated approach, holding the softer values that are needed while maintaining rigorous standards and a sharp eye for performance. The world needs a recalibration. Leaders need to be very explicit about the culture they want to create, what types of people they want to attract, and what behaviors are appropriate. They need to be authentic, performance-based, and respectful. They need to assemble a tribe of people that have the psychological flexibility to take care of themselves appropriately so that they can spar and go the distance.
I’m curious what this sparks within you. Do you believe there was a mirage of compassion? Were you perpetuating a mirage of compassion? How can you be more authentic in your leadership style going forward?