What’s happening in LA (and everywhere else) is horrifying. Watching the videos of Sen. Padilla get handcuffed for doing his job had me literally speechless.
I see people posting online about the insane cognitive dissonance and compartmentalization required right now:
I feel that myself, even as my job is 100% political in nature, and I’ve been thinking about what it means to lead a company, organization, or team in this particular moment.
One of my hotter takes in When We’re in Charge, (which much of this week’s email is drawn from is) is a simple one:
We need to create space for politics at work.
It’s simply unavoidable. The political environment has become so all-encompassing and intersects with so many other topics— sports, health care, housing, religion, books, music, fashion—that there is no way to draw a clear distinction between political topics and everything else. (Just ask any social media network how that’s going…)
I know this is uncomfortable—bringing politics to work has gotten Messy with a capital M. But there is no alternative. Multiple things are happening at the same time:
Gen Z is entering the workforce wanting to work at places that reflect their political affiliations or values, whether appropriate or not for the industry. Similarly, Gen Zers and millennials want to spend their money on brands that align with their values. (See: Costco’s revenue going up as they embrace DEI and Target’s revenue going down as their cowardly executives fold in the face of Trump’s bullying.)
Politics is getting more fucked up by the minute, and otherwise non-political organizations and companies are either feeling an obligation to weigh in, both morally and/or for profit (see point one) — or they’re feeling pressure from the outside to stay silent and then experiencing internal backlash, losing business, or both.
The demise of civic institutions pushes people to want more political community out of their employer because they can’t find it elsewhere.
And yet: Work cannot be someone’s political or civic home.
This is true in corporate America and possibly even more true in a mission-driven industry.
Hell, I work in politics, and my political job is not always my political home. Not everything I want to do fits within the mission of the organization I literally built from the ground up; that doesn’t mean what I believe (or what the organization does) is definitionally wrong.
Rather, it’s that there are political actions I may want to take or show support for that I need to find space for outside of my day job. The same is certainly true for my team, too.
My job as the leader is to create room outside of work for that political engagement, while holding the boundary of what work can do and is able to provide.
If you run a team, a company, or lead in any capacity, some suggestions…
The specifics of politics in the workplace—and how you as a leader handle it—will vary depending on where you are, what you do, and the issues at hand.
Just my two cents: If you have the latitude to push the limits on political speech and action within the confines of your mission and goals, you should. We are quite obviously no longer in the world of Aaron Sorkin, where democracy is a given and bipartisanship or neutrality is an objective good. Standing for something, even if it results in some backlash, can have brand benefits.
I think a lot of a scene in Taylor Swift’s Miss Americana documentary where she describes her anxiety around making a political endorsement and the hate she’d likely get. She couldn’t live with staying quiet as a political leader said hateful things about so many of her friends and fans. She asked herself: What was her platform for if not to use it for good?
If you have any modicum of influence or power that can strategically be put to good use, do it. I encourage a little bit of risk tolerance here, as much as is appropriate.
The tension to keep in mind is that as the boss, your personal political values, while important, are less relevant than the organization’s goals — leadership is not about you!! Extreme clarity and alignment on what you’re broadly hoping to accomplish is helpful to lean on when deciding which action to take or not take.
If you find that where you work and what you personally believe become incompatible, take the necessary steps to move on, which is easier said than done but also rarely impossible if given a long enough time horizon.
This is similarly true for your team. If they want more politics out of their job than you as an employer can provide, then this is no longer the right job for them. If you can legally say that in the kindest and most legal way possible, you should.
A few other things to consider . . .
What space are you creating for people to have political or civic engagement outside of work? Do you give paid time off for voting? What about volunteering? Do you, as the leader, model taking time? Do you remind people about upcoming voter-registration deadlines and election days? I’d argue this is the bare minimum, but it’s also more than a lot of places do, so do it if you can.
Go one step further and proactively give people permission to step away. Over the years as major news events have occurred, we reiterated to our team:
If what’s going on in the world is making it hard for you to do your job, step away for a few hours or a day or two, fully paid. If you want to go to a protest, go (and we give guidance for how to do that appropriately.) If you want to just lie down and touch grass for an hour, do it.
You don’t need to give an excuse; just let your manager know you need some time and block out your calendar.
Acknowledging what’s going on, naming that it’s hard and that some people might be affected more than others, and that anyone can log off at any time to care for themselves goes a long way.
Occasionally we’ve had people take us up on it, but most of the time, it’s simply appreciated that we called it out in the first place.1
Compassion is (relatively) free for you to give, but deeply valuable for the people you give it to.
What kind of guidelines can you create around political discussion? It’s almost certainly going to happen, so do what you can to lower the temperature as appropriate. If you’ve done the work to create an inclusive and psychologically safe environment, then you’ve got the structures to lean on—reinforce those codes of conduct.
Do your company values align with your company’s actions? If your company, for example, lists “anti-racist” as one of your values, then speaking up against racism and injustice falls under that bucket. If one of your values is “pushing boundaries and disrupting the old way of doing things,” then there are political actions one might expect from you.
Google’s infamous “Don’t be evil” motto came into tension with a ton of work Google does (which I imagine is part of why they removed it from their code of conduct in 2018). When they were operating under that ethos, it was totally reasonable for employees at Google to be like, “Hey, seems like we’re doing an evil thing. I thought we didn’t do that here.”
If your values and actions aren’t consistent, fix one or the other. Otherwise, your team has good reason to feel frustrated because expectations are not meeting reality.
TLDR: It is imperative for leadership to hold a boundary about what kind of political engagement is acceptable in the workplace and what kind of politics your team can expect from you (the leader) and you (the company). And/but: I bet that boundary can be a little further than you might currently draw it.
Separately, about this weekend:
Protesting has never been my preferred method of activism. That’s not to say they don’t have a purpose — they do, especially strategic ones like what the No Kings team has organized — but I have usually found the big crowds stressful and the leaderless nature of most protests leaves me more frustrated than energized. I want things I can win or lose; I want to know when we’ve accomplished our goal!
This is not a criticism of anyone who is protesting or finds meaning in protesting. We all have our roles to play in this work - anyone willing to do something is A+ in my book.
However, I absolutely see the value in getting together in person, especially right now, this weekend — courage is contagious
It matters to see the large numbers of people IRL who share our values; who feel the same fury, grief, and frustration and who want to channel into something! anything! that might make a difference. And the narrative it sets into motion is critical for political and business leaders to click into: Trump may have won the popular vote but what he’s doing is not popular.
I considered getting over my discomfort this weekend so looked up the closest event near me at NoKings.org, and alas, since the one in our area is happening during the kids’ naptime, I probably won’t make it, because no amount of togetherness can make up for the pure misery that is dealing with an overtired toddler.
I might, however, go vote early — which in addition to protesting, is also literally what democracy looks like.
Early voting in New York City opens on Saturday June 14th and runs through Election Day on the 24th.
Remember the golden rule of the NYC mayoral election: Whatever you do, don’t rank Cuomo.
Book recs:
Two romance novels that distracted me from my phone for a few evenings:
Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid - one part thriller, one part romance about physicist/astronomer-turned-astronaut Joan, who falls for one of her fellow astronauts during the summer of 1980 as they train to go up into space. No spoilers, but this is very sweet, very classic TJR, and will be an excellent movie. 🌶️ out of 5
It’s a Love Story by Annabel Monaghan - Child actress turned Hollywood executive Jane has to spend a week with her mortal enemy, Dan the cinematographer, as they try to get a movie made. Enemies to lovers at its finest. I found the first few chapters of this kind of insufferable, tbh, but once the story hit its stride and the romance kicks in, I really enjoyed the ride. 🌶️🌶️ out of 5
Some other things to listen to/read:
I loved talking to Marshall Hatch Jr. for my book - he’s on this week’s episode of Almost There, which is a really beautiful podcast. Worth a listen!
“When you scoot down the sidewalk in your good, snug helmet you are the safest, luckiest child in an unsafe world. I do not know what will happen to you in the future or what any of this will look like, but right now here we go. Here we go” [Bess Kalb from The Grudge Report]
I really appreciated Andrea Bartz’s reflections on week one sales of her book and how so much of publishing is out of our control. [Let’s talk about my week 1 sales]
A related essay, in defense of failure. [To tell a story by Leah Konen]
I cannot get enough of these long interviews Miley Cyrus is doing for the press tour for her new album. She’s so honest, so self-aware, and so game for answering any and all questions. I listened to both the nearly 2.5 hours she did on Every Single Album and her convo with the NYT on The Interview nearly back-to-back and I’ve got her interview with Monica Lewinsky’s podcast cued up. Even if you don’t like her music (which, what’s wrong with you?) these are such thoughtful conversations with an artist about, well, art.
“This book takes a stab at something incredibly difficult -- articulating skills and methods for the next generation of leadership -- and does it incredibly well. There are a significant amount of lessons in this book that I learned the hard way, and it is exciting and refreshing to see that those lessons are universal among young leaders.”
That’s what people are saying about When We’re in Charge.
Join the thousands of people currently reading and order it in any format you’d like — hardcover, e-book, or audio book (narrated by yours truly) wherever you get books, including Amazon or Bookshop.org or literally anywhere else.
I’ll admit: Sometimes I feel like I’ve said this so many times over the years that I feel on autopilot and forget to bring it up until someone says something proactively, for which I’m always grateful. My ability to compartmentalize — which certainly does more harm than good to me personally— should not be expected of everyone else.