We need more compassionate leaders

Leadership is about looking out for people and caring deeply. What you get in return is a lifetime of loyalty.

This doesn’t suggest that we start expecting returns on investment from our acts of kindness - not only because we can’t, but because it defeats the very genuine act itself. We must not do something for someone expecting anything in return, but we can start respecting and caring more deeply about each other knowing that we thrive better in symbiosis. But most importantly, be kind because everyone you meet is fighting their own war.

We face daily adversities that help keep us in check. They could be challenges from leakage in the house, a heatwave in a city that lacks the infrastructure to help you cope with extreme weather, the loss of a loved one, rehab from a tough surgery, someone spilling hot coffee all over you before a big presentation or simply from a bad day - we are all battling our own war. It is only human to feel and this is when we need a little more understanding from those around us. 

Others struggle with a much larger battle - people who look happy on the outside may be wrestling with mental illness that is slowly eating them from the inside out. Anxiety and depression don’t always show up as deep anger or sadness. Many people with mental illnesses are highly functioning, but it can easily take another person’s action to hurl them into the deepest dark where it can be hard to see the light.

We must tread lightly because hearts are fragile, some more than others. No matter what war we’re fighting, we need compassion and understanding because every life is precious so we ought to treat it with respect and dignity as we would hope to be treated ourselves. I share some of my personal anecdotes with the hopes of helping other leaders understand the kind of influence that they can have on someone else’s life, and why it’s ever so critical now to extend our hearts during this difficult time of the collective human struggle.

Anecdote study #1 - poor leadership is leaving you with no choice

There was a time I went back to work for a company where I had many painful but fond memories. Even to this day, I think most fondly of this place. This was a place where anybody could thrive but you had to go to battle. Because we all went to battle as a team, there was a deep sense of camaraderie and you developed some of the closest relationships.

I rejoined during a time of grief and suffering. The death of my grandmother is just a subplot in this story. I was dealing with the trauma of an ectopic pregnancy where I was in the emergency room for seven days during the pandemic. I wasn’t allowed many visitors so there I was feeling incredibly alone. Soon after I left the hospital, my boyfriend who had just moved in with me, packed up his bags and left.

I was asked to take over an urgent project outside of my new scope in a department I no longer served. It would demand all of my evenings and weekends to launch a project with such an aggressive timeline. My body kept resisting. I finally confided with my peers in management and a confidant in the C-Suite. They respectfully listened, but I was given no choice but to take on the project and so I resigned. 

I often feel judged for going back to a company only to leave again shortly after, especially when speaking with hiring managers and Human Resources who don’t seem to care to know the real story.

Anecdote study #2 - poor leadership is abandoning you in your darkest hour

There was a time when I was struggling with a personal relationship and the depression that followed; I felt so unworthy I even purchased a support book on self-hatred because that was all I could feel for myself. At work, I was faced with weekly cries that kept growing - everyone was feeling stretched and frustrated. My biggest headache was dealing with a chronically indecisive and forgetful boss who wanted to incubate more babies than we could feed and nourish. I finally opened up to him about my struggles hoping for support in finding a solution together. Two weeks later, I was axed.

During my time at the company, our stock prices reached their highest record. I saved the company from further losses in a business that never saw profit in the years since it was acquired. I had built a team that was able to execute faster with higher quality. When you’ve dedicated your life to turning around a sinking ship and they abandon you when you are sinking yourself, the experience leaves you with a deep psychological scar. 

Great leadership means allowing people to express themselves and recognising the needs of people while finding ways to support them in pursuing both their personal and professional goals and improving their performance in and out of the workplace.

Learning from my own experiences in leadership

My early days in management were a lot of trial and error. I was friends with a peer at work who wanted a full-time position but was concerned about her work-life balance. I tried to be realistic that this place was no slice of cake, but the journey can be rewarding and satisfying. She decided she wanted the job so I secured a role for her. Soon after, I became her manager and our relationship changed forever. I became frustrated that she wasn’t working as hard as me and I became resentful of catching error after error in a place where I valued image over the human experience. I lost a friendship and she later resigned.

My later years in management threw a different beast in my face. I went from a culture of speed and rising stars that needed less coaching to a culture that moved at a slower pace with a workforce that needed more initiation. The hardest call I ever received was from my boss during my first month; he raised concerns that had been circulating around the team. My loud and passionate personality clashed with the quieter team members who found me too fast and aggressive.

“People don’t care how much you know – until they know how much you care.” – Theodore Roosevelt

My ego was destroyed. I only had the best of intentions and it was hard to see why people were complaining about me when they didn’t even know me. I just cried, but it broke me down to become a better leader. It was a radically honest conversation that needed to be had. The next day, I scheduled a one-on-one meeting with each team lead offering my apology and listening to their side of the story. More importantly, I wanted to get to know each individual and learn how we can thrive together. That changed our relationship forever and we grew as a team. When I was eventually leaving the company, they invited me out for lunch and everyone showed up. I will always remember this experience with deep gratitude for their second chance and the opportunity to learn and grow.

The cost of compassion can either kill or save someone’s life

I’ve gone to battle for companies where I thought I was making a positive difference. These sacrifices seem worthless in the end when you realise how dispensable you are, but people would likely go the extra mile if they felt mutual trust and respect in the workplace. Poor leadership affects your company’s culture and brand. The cost of fixing your image is probably worth more than the investment behind the humans in the workplace and it chips away at your own organisation’s potential. 

But this is not the point. The cost of compassion can either kill or save someone’s life. On a hike last week, a friend opened up to me about the impact of suicide on his life. Two of his dear friends took their own lives last year. On my recent ayahuasca journey, I met a police officer who shared horror stories from her patrol days - at least one suicide case per week during the pandemic. One story I’ll never forget - she walked into the home of a single mother and there her daughter, a young teenager was hanging from the ceiling.

An estimated 703,000 people worldwide die by suicide each year.* One in every 100 deaths was the result of suicide in 2019.* Individuals suffering from depression are 20x more likely to die by suicide than someone without a mental health condition.** We are witnesses to a gruesome reality where someone takes their own life every 40 seconds.* But, we are also participants in this reality.

I’m not suggesting that you are responsible for someone else’s life, no. We are all responsible for our own life. But how you show up for others can hugely affect the way they show up in return, and some never come back. Kindness goes a long way because that trickles through an entire culture and penetrates deeply in the body.

* World Health Organisation 
** Ferrari AJ, et al. PIOS One. 2014 Apr 2:9(4):e91936