There once was a power exec,
Who knew how to stack his own deck.
He schemed and he frauded,
Yet still he was lauded.
And it felt like a noose on our neck.
Time passed and the nightmare got real.
But kind souls continued to feel.
We fought for the good,
And our ground we all stood.
‘Til the liberty bell chose to peal.
For a moment the struggle was won.
The fighting and hating was done,
Until we learned more
And re-tallied the score.
Yet again our hard work was begun.
You see, our love flows through the years,
There is no real end, as we fear.
And so work endures;
We may not see the cure,
Though we offer our blood, sweat, and tears.
Regardless, we’re called to attend
The struggles that threaten to rend
The things we hold dear
And try hard to keep near.
It’s in our own hands, my friend.
WRITTEN ON DECEMBER 19, 2016 DURING ELECTORAL COLLEGE VOTING.
“We must use time creatively, and forever realize that the time is always ripe to do right. Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy, and transform our pending national elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood.” – Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
I love the space where Gospel and Rock come together. Gospel’s hopeful energy renders Rock’s indignation righteous. Rock’s aggressive edge brings the Gospel down to earth, where the action is. This happens beautifully in The Jerry Garcia Band’s delivery of Charles Johnson’s classic, My Sisters and Brothers.
Deadheads know that the songs written and covered by Garcia, JGB, and the Grateful Dead teem with biblical, literary, and historical allusions. They are nothing short of poetic, and Sisters and Brothers is no exception. The song laments the struggle for peace and justice, and it proclaims the promise of beloved community.
The work will not be easy; nor will it be futile.
I have recently been heartened to speak with many people who are fighting the good fight for justice: teachers, medical professionals, environmentalists. activists, progressive fundraisers, writers, nonprofit leaders, advocates for refugees, and more. These good people have dedicated their careers to the struggle. It has been my privilege to witness their efforts and support them where I can.
The good news is that we have a lot of boots on the ground. The bad news is that every single one of us feels uncertain. How should we proceed, in the wake of this election?
During this existential moment, should we lament, should we hope, or should we simply get busy? Moving forward without lamentation strikes me at best as naive, at worst as callous. Neglecting hope, on the other hand, may dissolve us into nihilism. So, we must simultaneously lament and hope. In this, we may find courage to do as Johnson bids and“go on at a steady pace.” Ceasing the work, however briefly, is not an option.
I want to say to my sisters and my brothers
Keep the faith
When the storm flies and the wind blows
Go on at a steady pace
When the battle is fought and the victory’s won
We can all shout together, we have overcome
We’ll talk to the Father and the Son
When we make it to the promised land.
Johnson’s song has both precedent in the civil rights movement and relevance today. It evokes Martin Luther King, Jr.’s reassuring yet radical claim, “the arc of the moral universe is long, and it bends towards justice.” According to King, the promise of justice is located squarely alongside past, present, and (yes, even…) future suffering. This paradox animates Johnson’s 1974 song as much as it does Gloria Steinem’s 2016 post-election plea, “Don’t mourn; organize.” All three examples — King, Johnson, and Steinem — reinforce the importance of determination that honors both battle and victory.*
In addition, both Sisters and Brothers and the JGB live collaboration illuminate the way forward: diversity.
Diversity is both means and end.
Thou shalt not be afraid
Of the terror by night
Nor the arrow that flies by day
Nor for the pestilence
That walketh in the darkness
Nor for the destruction
That waiteth in the noonday hour
If we walk together, little children
We won’t ever have to worry
Through this world of trouble
We’ve got to love one another
Let us take our fellow man by the hand
Try to help him to understand
We can all be together
For ever and ever
When we make it to the promised land.
Let’s talk about what it means to “walk together.”
There is something powerful about the bald juxtaposition of Gospel and Rock in this performance and others like it. Both genres have unique energy for depicting humanity’s pain and potential, and they do it best when they collide — aggressively, but with love. Garcia’s guitar and Hornsby’s keys add a raw brutality to Johnson’s songwriting, which in turn exalts the band.
I’m sure this concept was the inspiration behind Christian rock, but the diluted hybrid just doesn’t cut it. There’s a lesson here for collaboration: remain faithful to the core strengths and value of everyone at the table. When diverse partners participate at full strength, something magical happens. When they water down their uniqueness, the result falls short of its potential.
Diversity is not a buzzword, but a value — at work, in life, and in art. It is, as the song reminds us, both means and end. It is both our path through fear and the final destination. Johnson reminds us of the latter gently, but directly: life is temporal, fleeting, and, ultimately, in service of beloved community.
This world is not our home
We are only passing through
Our trail is all made up
Way beyond the blue
Let us do the very best that we can
While we’re traveling’ through this land
We can all be together
Shaking a hand
When we make it to the promised land.
* Lending credence to the long arc of justice, bothKing’s and Steinem’s quotes are riffs on wisdom from earlier eras. King paraphrases abolitionist Theodore Parker, and Steinem paraphrases labor activist Joe Hill.
In September, I attended a University of Virginia panel titled, “The Future of the Just War Tradition.” The panel consisted of a presentation by Richard Miller, a powerhouse in modern just war thinking, along with five short scholarly responses (also impressive). Not only was the subject matter serious and interesting, but the discussion itself also illustrated the manner in which fields of study can and should evolve to stay relevant.
Enrichment Value:
In addition to subject-specific learning, I left the panel impressed by the format of the exchange and the way in which the tradition adapts, albeit carefully. The latter of these was acknowledged by Miller in his opening remarks, when he addressed the importance of both continuity and change to the just war tradition. This “paradox,” as Miller called it, is the essence of decision-making — and it is one I see in every industry I encounter. Decision-makers of all stripes must understand and engage established wisdom, while also adapting to change and inviting the creative energies of new players.
The panel also illustrated the importance of risk assessment. The line between continuity and change is paramount for decision making, but its location varies from problem to problem, industry to industry, organization to organization, and individual to individual. One can begin to identify that line by assessing risk (what’s at stake?), who bears the burden of the risk, and how risk-tolerant those people or entities can afford to be. Every decision — from the ethically fraught decision to enter war to isolated personal decisions — should begin with a careful assessment of risk. That assessment will illuminate the appropriate degree of care, and it will recommend a balance between established wisdom and creative energy.
(I have also used the structure of just war theory as a device to illuminate the ethics of work on LinkedIn Pulse. Read more…)
Enrichment Content:
Here’s a quick 101 on the just war tradition. As a body of work, just war theory explores the ethics of war. The tradition asks (and answers) questions regarding when it is ethically appropriate to engage in warfare, and how one might do so ethically. Traces of the tradition can be found throughout the history of warfare, dating well before its formal beginnings in the Catholic Church. It began to gain traction as a cohesive theory in the fifteenth century, and ultimately became a dominant framework for contemporary ethics of war.
The just war tradition is distinct from pacifism because, notwithstanding their shared presumption against violence, the just war tradition posits that war can sometimes be just justified. Just war theory has traditionally presented two categories of justification: jus ad bellum, which governs the decision to go to war, and jus in bello, which governs conduct in war. Contemporary thinkers have added others, including jus post bellum, which governs the end of conflict and peacemaking, and jus ad vim, which incorporates non-state actors into a broader examination of just force.
At the panel, Miller sketched a vision for the just war tradition that both respects the continuity of the tradition and addresses the changing context of warfare, specifically the new realities of humanitarian intervention, terrorism, drone warfare, and cyber warfare. In all of these, he emphasized the significance of asymmetric war. Respondents challenged Miller energetically and respectfully on the following:
R2P: A U.N.-adopted principle known as “responsibility to protect” against atrocities like genocide and ethnic cleansing.
Climate change as a factor reshaping war in the twenty-first century.
The hypocrisy of calling unjust war, “war.” (“Let’s call it slaughter,” argued nerd-famous pacifist Stanley Hauerwas.)
The importance of dialogue for sorting out who has authority as the international order evolves.
The problematic detachment of just war theory from the day-to-day work of military and political leaders.
Like many of you, current events leave me searching my heart for the right words, the right tone, the right course of action, and the right response to injustice in our culture. On occasion (e.g. here and here), I have used my business blog as a platform.
I have settled on two rules for this: (1) Business blogging must tie back to the work; it should not become a platform for either ranting or navel-gazing. (2) When my writing invokes others’ pain, it must be motivated by a sincere desire to help. The point is to share my expertise and perspective to alleviate suffering, not the other way around.
These two rules can coexist logically, I hope, because I have aligned my business model with my values.
Speaking out for justice aligns with my business strategy. This is a good thing.
Truth be told, I worry sometimes about limiting my client pool. However, I am determined that the normal anxiety of business development will not warp my values or my vision. It’s simple, really: I want to work with clients who share my concern for justice.
Social justice, racial justice, economic justice, LGBTQ justice, food justice, sexual justice, environmental justice, international justice, intersectional justice. Justice for the elderly; justice for youth. Justice for the differently abled. Justice for all.
Once I put my brave face on, I see this more clearly.
Marketing 101: know your best-fit clients.
These are the clients who will most benefit from your particular services, who will value your particular contribution, and for whom you know you can do great work — based on your particular acumen.
My unique background–in management and as a trained ethicist–differentiates me from other coaches. My best-fit clients want a coach who will support their values and ambition for impact, while also propelling their professional growth. They are business executives, nonprofit leaders, educators, artists, and individuals in transition. They walk many paths, and I walk my own as their coach. Together, we leverage their talents for positive impact — in their lives, their organizations, and the wider world.
Why do I write about justice on my business blog? My mission is to empower others to align their work with their values. My goal is to lead by example.
I write this in the wake of horrible violence, yet again, in my country. Last night, snipers killed 5 police officers at what should have been a peaceful protest against bloodshed. Our nation is deeply troubled by cycles of violence, both individual and systemic. Civil discourse has degraded into partisan bullying, and everyone is heartbroken. You know this. I know this. But what do we do?
Let’s turn that question inward. What do you do?
Seriously. What do you do with your time and energy each day? What is your work?
These are not easy questions, ethically speaking. In fact, they are decidedly uneasy. As you consider them, I propose that you employ a concept from just war theory. The just war tradition has been used for centuries by heads of state and other political leaders to make sense of right and wrong in the context of war. It has been extremely influential in world history.1Learn more about the content and history of just war theory here, and learn about pacifist ethics here. However, it interests me today because of its framework.
Specifically, just war theory unravels two distinct aspects of war-making and sets clear ethical parameters for each. The two aspects are jus ad bellum, which governs the decision to go to war, and jus in bello, which governs conduct in war. I see this framework as useful for examining the ethics of work because it untangles two important threads of consideration: major strategic decisions and in-the-trenches tactics.
Here are analogous categories for the ethics of work:
Strategic:
What is my profession?
Whom do I work for?
What is my organization’s mission?
What is the broad impact of my profession and organization?
Tactical:
How do I conduct myself at work?
Am I learning as much as I can, to do the best work that I can?
Am I practicing self-care to support engagement and energy?
What are the practical ethics of my profession? Do I know them and hold myself accountable?
What are the impacts of myspecific, day-to-day decisions?
Surely, both of the categories above are paramount to ethical work. We need more people (you! me!) to choose professions and organizations that make positive impacts on the world. We also need to work ethically and earnestly within those contexts. What we learn from the just war framework is that bothsets of conditions — the strategic and the tactical — are necessary. Either/or is inadequate.
I urge you to examine how closely your answers align with your personal values, your philosophical and religious commitments, your family’s collective mission, and your desire to DO SOMETHING in light of our shared struggles. Find the support you need as you make the changes you should (and surely we all must change).
What you do with your time is your impact on the world.
Let me say that again: what you do with your time IS your impact on the world. You likely spend 40, 50, 60 or even more hours at work — especially if you factor in commuting, travel frequently, or work as a caregiver. If you are fortunate enough to choose your work (and too many aren’t), you have a responsibility to choose wisely and a responsibility to go about it honestly. Bring your values into the equation, rather than compartmentalizing work vs. life.
“What do you do?” is classic small-talk, but it shouldn’t be. It’s the most important thing we can ask ourselves as we grapple with the dark and difficult. Honest answers will begin to shed a little light.
After taking the better part of a week to process events in Orlando, I have an idea.
Like many of you, I have experienced the sadly familiar feelings—not again, this is heartbreaking, this is hopeless, I’m afraid, repeat, repeat, repeat. However, I’m currently sitting with an emotion that feels OK, and maybe even empowered: the burning desire to DO something.
I have decided to embrace a different paradigm: creative determination. To me, this means the tenacity to:
think differently (boldly!)
have outlandish ideas
test those wild ideas
take concrete steps
connect with other torch bearers
For the moment, I’m not talking about political matters like gun control, mental health advocacy, or counter-terrorism. Those things are important, but they aren’t getting us very far. At best, political frameworks are not delivering the harmony we desire. At worst, the discourse around them has become so toxic that they do harm.
Instead, I want to remind us all that we share a history of creative determination. We share a history of revolutionary problem-solving and bold innovation. I truly believe that we, the people, can form a more perfect union.
Consider this short list of transformative examples, which exist or happened or changed, but were once just a notion:
the Internet
the Appalachian Trail
the moon landing
Central Park
The Grapes of Wrath
the Montgomery bus boycott
interstate highways spanning 45,000+ miles
a dazzling array of museums, free to all in the nation’s capital
Woodstock
the United States Constitution
Fine points are debatable. Yes, violence is pertinent to this list in important, nuanced (and some not-so-nuanced) ways. No, American culture doesn’t deserve singular credit for all. No, we don’t have the only creative culture in the world. Those and other complexities are real. I accept them.
However, big picture, these examples represent our culture’s extraordinary capacity for creativity. They are vastly different, but they all began as the kernel of an idea.
Many of you have kernels of creative ideas for solving, putting a dent in, or changing the frame of our national discourse on guns and violence. You have outlandish ideas that may promote our shared goal of harmony. Take a moment right now to think creatively — market solutions, scientific solutions, health solutions, community solutions, educational solutions, and categories of solutions that I haven’t even dreamed of. Ask yourself, what can you uniquely offer? (Don’t be humble–you will test and refine later.)
In this spirit, here is my outlandish idea: I am offering two hours of free incubator coaching to anyone with their own idea for creating a more peaceful American society. The point is for you to explore your next step with a thought partner — how you might test, connect, build on, learn more…whatever it is that your idea needs.
Ground rules:
Your idea must entail full and equal respect for all human beings, regardless of race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, religion, etc.
This offer is for creative ideas that can be executed legally and outside the partisan political process.
That’s it!
Logistics:
Email me (jlp at jlpstrategy.com) to set up a phone session.
For now, this is an open invitation with no time limit.
If I have the welcome problem of idea overload…well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.
If you pursue it, your outlandish idea will become a step forward.
I love satire. It cuts to the heart of matters, and it makes me laugh. So, you can imagine how thrilled I was to see McSweeney’s tackling an issue that I feel strongly about — meaningful work (or, more to the point, meaninglesswork):
Despite the business being obscenely profitable, our office is overcrowded, we are underpaid, and our work almost certainly supports fracking, heart disease, and the blatant exploitation of the poor. In recent months, it has occurred to me that this makes what I do, at best, completely void of meaning and, at worst, totally amoral. In short, my life has no meaning… but, have you tried the new toaster?
If this hits too close to home, you can do one of two things. Either laugh it off and proceed, or…
Let the satire do its full work, which is both to make you laugh and to convey criticism. It should leave you chuckling, but uneasily, wondering, how did this happen? And, how can I change it?
How did this happen?
In one of three ways:
(1) Though you are not actually manipulated by perks like shiny new toasters, you do bear the paradoxical burden of your compensation and benefits. Golden handcuffs are real — and really tight. They stand between too many people and meaningful work.
(2) You are smart, hard-working, and an expert in your field. You care intensely about everything you do at work, pouring intelligence and energy into each task and decision — whether small or large, meaningful or meaningless.
These favorable qualities propelled you to your current position. However, you bring this intensity to every situation and task, indiscriminately. In doing so, you rob yourself of the energy and time required for discernment and the work that really matters.
(3) The likeliest culprit — some combination of both.
How can you change it?
Laugh (heartily!), but don’t laugh it off. Channel that self-deprecation into a decision to prioritize your impact goals.
Since you are already smart and hard-working, this doesn’t mean finding new time in the day. Instead, you must redirect your existing resources towards more meaningful goals. This requires introspection, careful discernment, and re-prioritization.
It is likely that the process will also entail some risk — financial, professional, and perhaps even emotional. Be clear on your tolerance for that, as well as the return that you can reasonably expect. To that end, have a trustworthy person in your corner, who will both challenge you and respect your boundaries.
Laughing it off may be easy, but it isn’t a strategy. It leaves you as restless as ever and does nothing to improve your professional footprint. By contrast, self-examination and change are difficult. They promise valuable returns not only for your work satisfaction, but also for your legacy — and for the positive impact you will make on the world.
Let’s be real: this is a fortunate problem.
Many, many people suffer extreme poverty, unemployment, under-education and other hardships that make the challenge of meaningful work a privileged one. In that light, the “paradoxical burden” of golden handcuffs seems superficial.
However, this gulf is all the more reason to leverage educations and opportunities wisely. We owe it to ourselves, our communities, and the wider world.
I recently met with a client who is handling a thorny challenge with impressive magnanimity. As we discussed her decision, her management of it, and the business impact, it struck me:
My client is doing a brave thing.
I sat back, looked her in the eye, and said, “I want you to know that I admire you for doing this. Most people would be less generous.” Her response was simply, “How could you not?”
That, dear readers, is strength of character.
When you witness strength of character, you should acknowledge it. Tell the person that you admire them. Doing so encourages them to continue their brave work, which will surely be difficult. Equally important, it raises your standards. Marking the moment gives you a mental benchmark for your own difficult decisions.
Stay alert for colleagues and managers who make the tough decisions well. Thank them, and follow their lead. They deserve it, and so do you.
