And We’re back at Hogwarts

Seeing our older sons experience Harry Potter and the Sorceror’s Stone for the first time has been magical. Robyn finished the first book with them tonight.

Seeing the story through their reactions has made me see some timeless lesson in new ways. These are the best ones.

The story is powerful because we are part of it. We are dropped into the story as if we are joined to Harry somehow. It’s immersive and builds unquenchable intrigue. We feel like we’re there and desperately want it to be real.

For example - our oldest thinks maybe, just maybe, he will get a letter by owl inviting him to be a first year at Hogwarts. We learn how the events unfold as Harry does. Harry, Ron, and Hermione feel like they actually are our friends and we are part of Gryffindor house. Would the story inspire and resonate across generations if it was told at us, rather than feel like it was happening to us? No! I think this is why Star Wars also feels so timeless (and makes for a great theme park) we feel like part of it.

This is a lesson for any team we are trying to inspire - we have to make them feel like they’re part of it, and they have to also want it to be real.

There are great wizards from every house, and heroes in unlikely places. Sure, since Harry is the narrator, of course we’re going to hate Slytherin when we read it as children. But, we keep telling our sons - Gryffindor is not the only good house. If they are sorted into a house, with an online quiz or figuratively in life, they key is picking the environment that gets the greatness out of them, not just doing what they perceive is the only “good” answer.

Similarly, as readers we believe that Snape is awful and Neville is nice, but a sissy when we first meet them. Great strength and courage and kindness is often hidden, or, it takes the right circumstances for it to show itself. There are more heroes than just Harry, and there are more great houses than only Gryffindor.

There is no one right path. This is a lesson I need to be reminded about my own life and career - especially when I succumb and o comparing myself to my very esteemed colleagues and classmates.

And finally, I had forgotten and certainly didn’t realize the wisdom in Dumbledore’s speech at the end of term feast when I first picked up the book. Yes, it’s so true that it takes great bravery to stand up to our enemies but also, it takes great bravery to stand up to our friends. What a relevant lesson today, in the culture we live in, just as relevant as it was when The Sorcerer’s Stone was first released. How different might our world be if we stood up to our friends when their decisions were not in the right?

What a wonderful gift bringing the tales of Harry Potter back into our lives has been.

Why we all want to retire

It should not be a surprise that most people feel somewhere between indifference and dread about their jobs.

First, there’s power asymmetry by design. That means we should expect to be treated badly or exploited - because when one person is more powerful than another, this is what happens.

Second, that we are loved conditionally is expected. We are rewarded and praised if we achieve the result others want. And if not, we are ostracized or removed.

At work, these are normal things.

If we subject ourselves to power asymmetry and conditional love, shouldn’t we expect to dread it?

Unless our work situation is wildly different from the norm, it’d be crazy not to dread it.

“Thoughts and Prayers”

A good world doesn’t just happen. It’s built by people who take responsibility and follow through.

The language we use when failures occur tells us a lot. The words people use, particularly from leaders, signal whether someone is dodging responsibility or accepting it.

Let’s say we’re looking for confidence that good things are ahead. After a failure, what would you rather hear?

Something like this?

• “It’s all those bad people’s fault we failed.”

• “Don’t worry, this was a one-time thing.”

• “The victims shouldn’t have put themselves in that position.”

• “It’s not my job to deal with this.”

• “It is what it is.”

• “I’m sorry you feel upset.”

Or something more like this?

• “I made a bad call, and I’m sorry.”

• “We failed, and we’re going to make this right.”

• “We’ve learned from our mistake, and we’re doing these three things differently, starting today.”

• “The responsibility lies with me, and nobody else.”

• “I’m sorry that my failure hurt you.”

• “This is the plan, and how you can hold me accountable.”

I think we’d all prefer the second set of responses, not the first. It’s no contest.

We gain confidence after a failure—or even a tragedy—when someone takes responsibility. And we should because leadership is responsibility.

The worst possible sign, I think, is when the same failure repeats itself and nobody ever takes responsibility. In those instances we shouldn’t expect any good to happen, ever.

“Thoughts and prayers” and “we condemn this act” are turns of phrases that are often shared when tragic failures, usually of a political nature, occur. And I think it’s perfectly natural to think of and pray for others after a tragedy (I do), and, to condemn actions that merit condemnation.

But neither phrase is a measure of responsibility. And for what it’s worth, I’m skipping a political analysis because no interest group has a monopoly on accepting or avoiding responsibility after failures.

After a failure, I need to hear someone take responsibility to believe good things are coming. Though we may fail at it, as I do, this is the standard we also must hold ourselves to, especially when the people around us need us or expect us to lead.

When I Am the King

The fastest way to understand a group’s culture is to look at how the most powerful and the least powerful treat each other.

Parents and children.

Priest and congregation.

Boss and employee.

Politician and citizen.

In all these realms, how the most powerful and the least powerful treat each other tells you what you need to know.

When you look at the most powerful, do they truly listen?

Do they lift others, or do they bully?

Despite what they say, do their actions reveal care for others—or only a hunger to preserve their own dominance?

And the least powerful—

Do they challenge authority for a higher purpose, or merely seek the crown for their own heads?

Do they move with agency, rage, or a stupor of learned helplessness after years of being beat down?

Are they—even visible?

How do the most powerful and least powerful treat each other?

We judge others all the time. I do, and so do you—though we hopefully we try to be more holy than that.

But this question must turn inward, because we are not always the least powerful, however much we’d like to believe it.

The person who shapes the culture most, in my own life, is the one in the mirror.

If I am a parent, a boss, a leader in any form—how do I treat those with less power?

That tells me all I need to know.

Success Isn’t Flashy—It’s Footwork

Footwork is underrated.

In most sports broadcasts and among fans, footwork doesn’t get nearly the attention it deserves. And I get it—footwork is boring.

One exception is a sport I love: tennis.

In tennis, even on national broadcasts meant for wide audiences—including casual fans—announcers often talk about footwork. And for good reason: footwork is directly tied to winning. If you don’t move well, you can’t get in position to hit the ball cleanly. You lose points, and eventually, the match.

IThe best tennis players are relentless about footwork. Their training shows during matches.

The difference between good and bad footwork is obvious in tennis. But outside of sports, “footwork” is just as important—and just as underrated.

Footwork in life isn’t about sprint drills, obviously. It’s the invisible prep and uncelebrated routines that make everything run more smoothly.

Here’s what “footwork” can look like at home:

• Making a grocery list and checking the pantry

• Packing a bag or ironing clothes the night before

• Taking five minutes to slow down before bed so you can sleep better—or right after waking up, so you’re less grumpy

• Drinking enough water, eating fresh produce, and getting enough fiber

• Putting commitments on the calendar—and saying no to prevent over-scheduling

• Getting to bed on time

• Doing a weekly temperature check

• Keeping clutter off the floor and putting things back where they belong

• Listening fully when connecting with family

• Scheduling dates

• Saying please and thank you

• Hugs, kisses, high fives

• Apologizing and making up after an argument

• Upholding screen time, junk food, and language rules

• Eating dinner together regularly

And here’s what it can look like at work:

• Keeping tasks transparent and centralized, with a clear owner

• Setting a small number of clear goals

• Prioritizing ruthlessly

• Sending agendas before meetings

• Debriefing after milestones

• Telling others what you expect—and asking what they expect of you

• Checking references

• Listening to teammates and taking time to build relationships

• Proofreading before sending a document or email

• Explaining why something matters

• Talking to customers and frontline staff

• Coaching regularly—not just once a year

• Clarifying action items, deadlines, and owners after meetings

• Laying out options and making the hard decisions

• Communicating changes before they happen

These things aren’t flashy—but they’re what put us in position to succeed.

Sure, the big things matter: the dream vacation, the multi-million-dollar project. And we should talk about them. Celebrate them. But what usually causes those things to fall apart?

We all know the answer: bad footwork.

The good news? We can get better at it.

Pick one thing—whether it’s loading the dishwasher or sending out clear post-meeting notes—and work on it relentlessly until it becomes muscle memory. Then move on to the next.

We all need better footwork. And we can get it—just like elite tennis players.

Because the difference between succeeding and failing—at home, at work, and on the court—is rarely luck or the world being unfair. It’s usually footwork.

How to accept help during a family emergency (a tool for family resiliency)

Friends,

During a family emergency, one of the hardest things is knowing how to ask for and accept help. Often, if we’re fortunate to have loving friends and family around us, there’s a quiet army standing by, ready to support us as soon as they hear we’re struggling.

But here’s the tricky part: what do we ask them to do? How do we take them up on their offers? And what do we really need? These questions can feel impossible to answer in the middle of a crisis because we’re already overwhelmed by the situation itself.

I know this because Robyn and I just went through it.

When we welcomed our newborn home, we had to rush back to the hospital with him just a day later. It was the hardest week of our lives. By midweek, I was completely overwhelmed, even though we had so many loving offers of help and support.

That’s when I realized I needed to simplify things. I spent 30 minutes breaking down the problem into something I could actually manage. I created a worksheet to help me organize our needs and accept the help that was already being offered.

It made all the difference.

The worksheet helped me clarify what we needed, communicate it to others, and accept support in a way that felt natural and manageable. It worked so well that I plan to use it whenever we face a family emergency (though I hope that won’t be often).

Because this tool made such a big impact for us, I wanted to share it with you. I’ve attached two versions below:

• A blank template, ready for you to use.

• A version with notes that explain how it works.

This is for any family emergency—whether it’s a sick child, the death of a parent, emergency house repairs, or something else entirely. Please feel free to use it, adapt it, and share it with anyone who might need it.

I also plan to be more proactive by creating an emergency plan with close family and friends. That way, when life inevitably throws us a curveball, we’ll be ready.

Emergencies are going to happen. Let’s be prepared—not just to offer help, but to accept it when we need it most.

With Love from Detroit,
Neil

Become an Organizational Conservationist

Every workplace has polluters. They’re the ones who waste time, dodge accountability, and create stress for everyone around them. Just like pollution in the environment, their actions corrode morale, productivity, and profitability. And if we’re honest with ourselves, we’ve all contributed to organizational pollution at some point. I know I have, despite my best efforts.

When we show up late or run meetings without purpose, we’re polluting the environment. When we use up an employee’s talent without helping them grow, we’re leaving the soil barren. When we avoid conflict or delay fixing broken processes, we’re dumping waste for someone else to clean up.

This pollution doesn’t just stay at work—it seeps into everything. We bring the stress home to our families. It slows us down, makes decisions harder, and leaves everyone more exhausted when we are at work. Worst of all, it often goes unnoticed, even as it erodes our impact and profitability.

Organizational pollution, like environmental pollution, has unseen consequences. But the good news is that, as with the environment, we have options to clean it up.

Three Approaches to Workplace Pollution

When it comes to addressing pollution, we have a few ways forward.

1. Regulation

Imagine if we treated workplace behavior the way we regulate environmental harm. What if, at every performance review, we tracked not just numbers but also how well someone contributed to a healthy work environment? What if we promoted the people who developed others and penalized those who made their teams miserable?

Regulation works—it’s why we have cleaner air and water today. But it’s also hard. It requires the leaders of an organization to care enough to enforce it, and let’s face it, that’s a tall order in many places.

2. Shame

Shaming polluters is another option. Picture flyers in the company cafeteria calling out the manager who’s always late to meetings or the boss who verbally abuses their team. Public accountability can be a powerful tool.

But shame is risky. In most organizations, power dynamics favor the polluters, and those who speak out would surely face retaliation. Are we ready to risk our jobs to shame someone into doing better? Probably not.

3. Conservation

The most practical and empowering answer is to become organizational conservationists.

We can take responsibility for our corner of the workplace and make sure the environment we create is clean and healthy. That means running better meetings, giving honest feedback, and helping our peers grow. It’s about stopping waste before it accumulates, whether it’s wasted time, talent, or energy.

It starts small: asking ourselves if we’re polluting the work environment, encouraging better habits in our teams, and quietly backing others who do the same. These actions may seem minor, but when enough of us do them, the impact is undeniable. Ripples can become waves.

We can also support fellow conservationists. Let’s go out of our way to lift up people who improve the workplace. Even if they’re not the most powerful or influential, they’re worth protecting. And whenever possible, we can choose to distance ourselves from the polluters. The less we enable them, the less impact they’ll have.

Reclaiming Our Workplaces

Of course, none of this is groundbreaking. We all know the difference between a good work environment and a toxic one. But thinking about it through the lens of pollution makes it click in a new way. Polluters don’t just make work annoying—they harm everyone around them.

And honestly, we don’t want to be polluters. None of us do. Framing ourselves as conservationists helps us see our role in a new light. When we choose to conserve and protect the work environment, we’re not just doing what’s right—we’re building something better for ourselves and others.

So here’s the truth: pollution in the workplace is a choice. But it’s a choice we make together. Every meeting, every interaction, every decision—it’s an opportunity to either pollute or conserve. The more of us who take pride in being conservationists, the greater our chance of creating healthy, thriving work environments.

And maybe, just maybe, we’ll leave the workplace better than we found it, and that will ultimately make quality of life better both at home and at work.

We must create important jobs

As Robert and I left the campground sink after washing the dishes, he was a little disappointed. He wanted to carry what he thought was more important: the 8L sack of potable water we’d use all day at our campsite, rather than the washbasin full of dishes.

I thought back to a lesson I learned at Student Council camp in high school: all jobs on the team are important.

At camp, years ago, one of our exercises was a simulation of a manufacturing process—we had to replicate a design, transport parts, and rebuild the design to spec in a different room. I felt unimportant as the truck driver—all I did was follow orders, wait around, and move parts from one room to another.

But my camp counselor reminded me during our debrief, “Could the team have built the design without you driving the truck?” I learned one of the most important lessons in leadership: if it needs to be done, the job is important. And no matter what the job is, the person who does it should be treated with the same high level of respect as everyone else on the team.

That’s what I told Robert: it’s okay that the sack of water was too heavy for you to carry. You’ll be stronger someday. But carrying those dishes? We need those dishes too, and I appreciate you carrying them. You’re doing an important job.

Over the years, as I’ve taken on more leadership roles, the lesson I learned at camp has deepened. It’s not just about recognizing that all jobs are important and treating everyone with respect, regardless of status. It’s also about ensuring that everyone has a role that truly matters.

Too many people in too many organizations have jobs that underutilize their capabilities, sometimes in ways that are almost insulting. Generally, if someone is good enough to be hired, they want to contribute meaningfully. Not everyone aspires to senior roles, but almost everyone wants their job to be impactful, not bullshit.

Unfortunately, some leaders seem to think that their team members should figure out what’s important on their own—they can’t be bothered to help those with less power craft meaningful roles.

I don’t live by that standard. If we have more authority and status than someone else, we need to help them find and fulfill an important job. We need to create opportunities for others to be respected. Sure, it’s a two-way street, but more of that responsibility lies with those of us who have more authority.

One of the most impactful things we can do as leaders is to actively help others create roles that matter. When we create opportunities for everyone to contribute meaningfully, we not only respect them—we elevate the entire team.

We must create important jobs.

Imagination is a Foundational Leadership Skill

I define leadership as the act of taking responsibility for something.

However, one crucial element that underpins effective leadership is frequently overlooked: imagination. From my experience, both personal and professional, I have learned that taking full responsibility for a project or goal requires the ability to vividly imagine its realization. This power of imagination is not just a lofty concept but a practical and essential skill for leaders.

To inspire a team to bring our vision to life, we must articulate it clearly and compellingly. This act of sharing our imagination is what we commonly refer to as having a vision. Whether you are a CEO, product manager, entrepreneur, artist, politician, or parent, the ability to communicate your vision is fundamental to effective leadership.

Imagination operates on three distinct levels when we take responsibility for a project. To illustrate, consider the creation of a running shoe. The first level involves envisioning the product itself. What does the shoe look like? How is it designed? What makes it unique and special? This product vision is the core of what we aim to create, whether it’s a shoe, a family, a city, or a store.

The second level of imagination is what I call the market or cultural vision. This involves envisioning the broader impact of our product or project on the world. For our running shoe, we must consider who will be using it. Are they solo runners or part of running clubs? How does running with our shoe change them as individuals? What new stories do they tell themselves because of their experiences? How do these runners interact with others differently? Envisioning this broader impact helps us understand how our efforts contribute to making the world a slightly better place.

The third level of imagination is the internal vision, which focuses on the process and team dynamics required to bring our vision to life. For the running shoe, this means imagining the manufacturing process: How will the shoe be made and designed? Who will be part of our team? What kind of culture will we cultivate within our team? What will our interactions look and feel like? If a documentary were made about our journey, what key moments and values would it highlight? This internal vision ensures that we have a clear roadmap for achieving our goals.

In essence, a leader is someone who takes end-to-end responsibility for a project or goal. To do this effectively, the ability to imagine and share what’s in our mind’s eye is essential. Without this, we risk merely replicating someone else’s vision instead of creating our own.

This brings us to two key “how” questions: How do we get better at imagining, and how do we assess imagination in others?

To improve our imagination, we need practice. However, imagination cannot be practiced in the abstract. We must engage in the act of creation—whether it’s building a custom shelf, writing a book, painting a picture, or organizing a street festival. The process of imagining often unfolds naturally as we commit to building something. We don’t set out with the intent to imagine; instead, we follow our instincts, commit to the project, and let the imagination flow.

Assessing imagination, particularly in an interview setting, is relatively straightforward. Ask candidates to share their dreams—whether for their current company, their family, or their community. Encourage them to elaborate with follow-up questions. If, within 5-10 minutes, you can vividly see what they envision and feel excited about it, they likely possess a refined ability to imagine and communicate their vision. Chief James Craig, who led the Detroit Police Department while I was there, emphasized this principle: “We have to talk about our dreams.” I wholeheartedly agree.

To ground this discussion, which may seem abstract, let’s envision a world where people are committed to making their corner of the world a bit better by bringing their dreams to life. Achieving this requires the ability to imagine and clearly communicate what’s in our mind’s eye. How do we cultivate this capability? By building things and talking about our dreams.

Pull the Tomatillos: A Gardener’s Parable of Enterprise Leadership

This parable about enterprise leadership and strategy starts in our backyard vegetable garden in Detroit.

Our small urban garden in Detroit is a raised bed measuring just 4x12 feet. As novice gardeners, we often cram in more transplants than we should. Despite the tight space, tending to the garden is a joy, and I often talk to the plants while working the soil.

Last year, we took a chance and planted tomatillos. Although they grew well, we didn’t use them much because I wasn’t sure how to incorporate them into recipes, and we didn’t harvest enough to make it worthwhile. Many of the tomatillos fell into the bed and nestled into the soil. This year, tomatillo plants sprouted up all over the raised bed with cheer and resilience.

This weekend, while clearing weeds and preparing the bed for the fall crop season, I reflected on a lesson in enterprise strategy and leadership. We belong to a wonderful garden club, Keep Growing Detroit, and I’m picking up transplants from them this week. This is where the parable begins to take root.

As a gardener, some choices are easy. Do I pull the weeds? Absolutely. Weeds steal resources and space from our vegetables. It was sad but straightforward to cut our losses and pull the carrots we planted. Despite our efforts, the carrots didn’t thrive because weeds and grasses consumed the resources and space they needed to grow. Moreover, we planted them 2-3 weeks too late, and the cool-weather-loving carrots couldn’t withstand the heat. After assessing the situation, it was clear these carrots wouldn’t reach maturity.

We were disappointed because carrots are a family favorite. They’re delicious, and it’s fun to pull them while joking, “What’s up Doc?” like Bugs Bunny. Despite being a risk worth taking, the carrots didn’t turn out as planned.

Next, I had to decide about the tomatillos. Should I pull them or let them grow? The fallen tomatillos were thriving, already fruiting with many more to come. Ultimately, I decided to pull the tomatillos from the bed. It was painful and felt wasteful since they were already producing fruit.

What I realized was that even with a bumper crop of tomatillos, I would have had to go out of my way to use them. Honestly, I wasn’t interested in experimenting with new tomatillo recipes; I would have preferred trying a new vegetable like a pepper, squash, or bean. I would have used them, but I wouldn’t have been excited about the results. Tomatillos weren’t going to get me where I wanted to go.

In our garden, those tomatillos represented a real opportunity cost. With limited space in the bed, keeping the tomatillos meant losing the chance to plant fall crops that would better serve our needs. The tension was real; the tomatillos were already fruiting, creating inertia to leave them in the ground. But I knew I had to pull them because of the opportunity cost. Even a bumper crop of tomatillos wouldn’t help me achieve the outcomes I cared about.

We have to pull the tomatillo priorities. In enterprises, just like in a garden, attention and resources are limited. As enterprise leaders and strategists, we must focus on initiatives that not only bear fruit but also get us to where we want to go.

Every enterprise I have worked in has projects analogous to the weeds, carrots, and tomatillos in my garden. It’s challenging, but relatively easy, to end pet projects that pop up uninvited and steal resources and space from our most critical initiatives. We just have to recognize these projects for what they are—weeds—even if it requires a crucial conversation with the project leader.

We also have to pull the carrots, which are the projects we should be doing but have run off the rails and are no longer viable. For these, we need to celebrate our failure and learn from our mistakes so that the next time we attempt them, we succeed.

And hardest of all, we need to pull the projects that are bearing fruit but aren’t getting us where we actually want to go. These tomatillo projects are crucial to end because if they grow and succeed, they commit us even more to a direction that isn’t in the enterprise’s long-term interest. Tomatillo projects make us feel great right now but are dead ends in the long run.

To be sure, it’s not easy for any enterprise to say no, establish priorities, and end initiatives. But the enterprise is our garden bed, and we have to do what helps the garden grow the fruit that gets us to where we want to go.

That means we have to find the weeds and pull them. Even if it’s sad, we have to pull the carrots. And even though it feels terrible to end projects that are bearing fruit, we must have the courage to pull the tomatillos. The success of our enterprises and our gardens depends on it.

Stale Incumbents Perpetuate Distrust

In a society where trust levels are low and have been falling for decades, have you ever wondered who stands to gain from this pervasive and persistent distrust?

My hypothesis is this: low trust isn’t just a social ill—it’s a profitable venture for some. Over the years, I’ve noticed different groups that seem to benefit from distrust, both within organizations and across our culture. In this post, I’ll share my observations and explore who profits from distrust. If you have your own observations or data, please share them as we delve into this critical issue together.

Adversaries

The first group that benefits from low trust is straightforward: our adversaries. Distrust and infighting often go hand in hand. It’s much easier to defeat a rival, whether in the market, in an election, in a war, or in a race for positioning, when they are busy fighting among themselves and imploding from within.

Brokers

Another group that profits from distrust are brokers. Though they often don’t have bad intentions, brokers make a living by filling the gap that distrust creates. By “broker,” I mean someone who advocates on our behalf in an untrusting or uncertain environment. This could be a real estate agent, someone who vouches for us as a business partner, a friend who sets people up on blind dates, or someone whose endorsement wins us favor with others.

Mercenaries

Mercenaries are a less well-intentioned version of brokers. These people paint a dark picture of a distrustful world and then offer to fight for us or provide protection—for a price. Mercenaries never portray themselves as such, even if that’s what they really are.

Aggregators

Aggregators are people or organizations that build a reputation for being consistently trustworthy, especially when their rivals are not. Essentially, they aggregate trust and communicate it as a symbol of value. A good example of aggregators are fast food brands. When traveling abroad, people trust an American fast food chain to be clean, consistent, and reasonably priced. Many brands across industries thrive because they’ve built a trustworthy reputation.

These groups are fairly straightforward, and many of you might find these categories intuitive and relatable. However, they didn’t seem to cover enough ground to explain the persistent low trust levels in our culture. As I thought more about it, I realized that the largest group benefiting from distrust might be hidden in plain sight…

Stale Incumbents

Now, let’s consider the largest group that might be benefiting from distrust: stale incumbents.

Imagine someone you’ve worked with who always slows down projects. They resist learning new things and believe in sticking to the old ways. They’re nice, but their team never meets deadlines or finishes projects—they always have a believable excuse. This person is a stale incumbent.

More specifically, a stale incumbent is someone in a position who is out of ideas or motivation to innovate. Their ability to keep their job depends on everyone being stuck in the status quo. Here’s how it works:

1. They get into a comfortable position.

2. They stop learning and trying new things.

3. They run out of ideas because they stopped learning.

4. They try to hide and let new ideas fade.

5. They allow distrust and low standards to settle in.

6. When new people ask questions, they blame distrust: “It’s not my fault; others aren’t cooperating.”

7. They make the status quo seem inevitable, doing the minimum to keep their position and discourage change.

8. They repeat steps 4-7.

Stale incumbents need distrust to hide behind. They want to keep their comfortable position but have no new ideas because they stopped learning. A culture of distrust is the perfect scapegoat: it can’t argue back, and people think it can’t be changed, so they stop asking questions and give up. The distrust also makes it harder for new people to show up, innovate, annd expose the stale incumbent.

Ultimately, stale incumbents can keep their jobs while delivering mediocre results. This staleness spreads, making the culture of distrust harder to reverse because more stale incumbents depend on it. It’s a cycle of mediocrity, not anger and fear.

I don’t have experimental data, but I do have decades of regular observation draw from. I believe stale incumbents help explain the persistent low trust in America. Many people started with energy but never found allies, and the stale culture assimilated them.

The good news is there’s hope. If distrust is due to stale incumbents rather than malicious actors, we may not face much resistance in bringing about change. The path to change is clear: bring in energetic people and help them bring others along. It’s hard, but not complicated. By fostering a culture of learning, innovation, and trust, we can break the cycle of mediocrity and create a more trusting and dynamic society.

Doing Strategy in Politics

Here’s my thought experiment for how we might do political visioning in America, grounded in the aspirations of the entire polity.

The first bit is a good illustration of how I think about the American Dream. But for what it’s worth, I mean this post more as an exercise in how to “do” politics differently than just having a platform on 50+ issues that matter to the polity and shouting about it as loud as you can - not an unpacking of my own vision.

My main consternation as a citizen is this: I don’t want a policy platform unless you’ve shared a bona fide vision first! Rather than just griping, I figured I’d actually explain how I think things could work instead.

And, for what it’s worth, this is how I’ve seen great organizations function across sectors. This sort of discipline around strategy and execution is one of the things I most wish the public sector would adopt from private sector organizations and business school professors.

To start, let’s assume a visionary political leader believes these are the three overarching questions that unify the largest possible amount of our polity:

1. On average, do people have enough optimism about the present and future to want to bring children into this world?

2. On average, once someone is brought into this world, do they flourish from cradle to grave?

3. Overall, the simplest and most comprehensive way to measure the health of a society is Total Fertility Rate vs. replacement rate. Is our long-run population stable, growing, or declining?

Thinking about the fundamental need gripping the polity is key. I think whether or not people want to reproduce is a good bellwether of a LOT and therefore a good framework for contemplating political issues at a national level.

A vision statement based on these questions could be:

I imagine a country where our citizens believe it’s worth bringing children into the world and have reasonable confidence that those children will flourish during their lifetimes.

A vision statement statement has to describe the world after you’ve succeeded from the POV of the citizen, not the work itself.

A pithy slogan / mission (which does sharply focus and describe the work itself) to capture the essence of this vision statement could be:

“Families will thrive here.”

Let’s assume this is a vision / mission statement that the polity believes in. If so, then the political leader can translate their rhetoric into action by asking two simple questions:

1. Is the vision true today?

2. If not, what would have to be true for the vision to become reality?

From there, a political leader can create an integrated set of mutually reinforcing policy and administrative choices that they believe will allow the polity to make disproportionate progress toward the vision state.

Put another way, by working backwards from the vision, you can place bets on the initiatives that are more likely to succeed rather than wasting resources on those that won’t get us to where we agreed we want to go.

The problem with this approach is that you actually have to articulate a vision, understand the root causes that are preventing it from happening without intervention, do the extremely abstract work of forming a strategy, and then communicate it clearly enough so that people get behind it. That’s really hard, and you have to have major guts to go through this exercise of vision -> strategy -> priorities -> outcomes.

This is quite different, I think, than simply articulating a pro-con list of policy preferences across a widely distributed set of issue areas that aren’t contemplated in an integrated way. But the thing is, having focus and priorities tends to work much better than “boiling the ocean” or “being all things to all people.”

To be fair, I’ve seen some contemporary politicians operate this way. Not many though.

In a nutshell, one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned from observing the leadership of private-sector companies is that it’s a big waste to just start doing stuff in a way that’s not integrated and focused—as if every possible initiative is equally impactful. It works much better when you start with a specific end state in mind and work backwards. It’s an idea that’s useful for political leaders, too.

Exponential Talent Development

Most of us have a HUGE gap between the impact we actually make and what we are capable of.

Asking myself (and my teammates) this question helps me put it in perspective: How would you rate yourself on a scale from 1 to 100?

• A 100 represents making the highest possible impact that your talent and potential allow.

• A 1 represents completely wasting the opportunity to positively contribute to the world.

I think most of us, myself included, are much lower on this scale than we realize—maybe a 20 or 30 at best. This realization begs the question: Why is there such a discrepancy, and what can we do about it?

In my experience, there are three reasons we leave vast amounts of our talent and potential untouched. First, we may never be challenged enough to use it. Second, we're not in the right contexts to let our strengths shine. Third, we may not have the support we need to develop the untapped talent we possess.

If we were all fully auto-didactic, we’d have no problem. That's because an auto-didact can fully teach and develop themselves. But none of us are completely auto-didactic; we all need others' help to develop ourselves so that we make our fullest contributions.

Introducing Exponential Skills

The difficulty in fully developing ourselves and others is relevant in many contexts. In professional settings, we call this challenge "talent development." In family settings, it’s "parenting." In community spheres, it's "mentorship" in secular contexts and "faith formation" in spiritual ones. In all domains of our lives, fulfilling and contributing the totality of our potential to the world matters.

The question I like to ask to really push my thinking is: What would have to be true for everyone in the world to develop and contribute 100% of their potential? As I’ve reasoned through this, the only way we get to the point of the world contributing 100% of their talent is through an exponential feedback loop where the number of people helping others to grow and develop increases exponentially.

To make the jump to create a society with an exponential feedback loop for talent development, let me define some terms and introduce some concepts:

We are all contributors who bring our talent and potential to the world. Some of us contribute by making art, others by building bridges, creating knowledge, making cakes, or making decisions. In mathematical terms, think of this as a constant: c.

A coach is a contributor who also helps develop others. Coaches are a big deal because they help others close the gap between their potential and their contribution. Think of this as x(c), where x is the number of people a coach is able to develop.

A linear coach is a coach who also helps develop other people into coaches. Think of this as mx(c), where m is the number of other coaches the linear coach creates.

An exponential coach is a linear coach whose coaching tree goes on in perpetuity: the people I coach become coaches, and then those people create more coaches, and those people create more coaches, and so on. Think of this as (mx(c))^n, where n is the number of generations an exponential coach is able to influence the cycle of creating more coaches.

Visually, I think of it like this:

Barriers To Creating Exponential Coaches

To create exponential coaches, several significant challenges need addressing. These challenges revolve around how we internalize and transmit knowledge, and the intrinsic motivations behind our contributions.

Challenge 1: Recognition Gap — The further you get from a contributor, the less credit you get for your work. This recognition gap can demotivate those who do not see immediate returns on their efforts. Solution: To overcome this, we must cultivate inner motivation and focus on long-term impact rather than immediate recognition. Developing a sense of purpose that transcends acknowledgment allows leaders to dedicate themselves to creating a lineage of coaches, thus prioritizing legacy over accolades.

Challenge 2: Complex Idea Communication — For an idea to spread, the messenger must internalize it sufficiently to simplify and communicate it effectively. This requires a deep understanding of both the intellectual and emotional aspects of the idea. Solution: Coaches need to engage in profound introspection to grasp the nuances of their knowledge and experiences fully. This depth of understanding enables them to articulate these concepts clearly and simply, making them accessible and teachable.

Challenge 3: Teaching to Teach — Teaching others to teach is a complex task that involves not only passing on knowledge but also instilling the value and methodology of teaching itself. This requires a reflective understanding of one’s own teaching practices. Solution: Coaches should introspect on their teaching methods and motivations, understanding them deeply enough to convey their importance to others. This process ensures that the coaches they develop can, in turn, teach effectively, perpetuating a cycle of self-replication in coaching practices.

Mastering these challenges not only enhances our own potential but also multiplies our impact exponentially across our communities and industries.

Where Do We Even Start?

On a personal note, the person I call Nanna is not my grandmother by birth but rather by love; she's my father-in-law's mother. During a trip to England a few years ago, I asked her about the secret to a long and healthy life. Here are the highlights of what she said:

• Make time for family, faith, and community.

• Stay active; keep your body moving, whether it’s through dancing, walking a dog, or any other physical activity.

• Find a way to express yourself—through music, art, writing, knitting, making movies, having a book club, or any other form—because expression is crucial to mental and emotional health.

That last imperative is so deeply intertwined with introspection. Isn’t expression just a word that means exploring our inner world and then sharing it outside of ourselves? We have to express to be sane and healthy.

I know this post is heady and meta. I’ve been thinking about this concept for months, and I’ve only just synthesized enough to share a muddy morsel of it. A fair question to ask is: Where, in the real world, do we even start?

For inspiration on where to start on our own journeys to become exponential coaches, we can take heed from Nanna. She was onto something.

To become an exponential coach, we have to introspect and express. And to introspect and express, we have to find a medium that works for us and allows us to explore our inner world. And once we find it, we have to just practice with that medium, over and over.

For me, that medium is writing. For others, it might be painting, photography, singing, or making pottery. For others still, it might be talking honestly with a good friend, praying, or starting a podcast.

The medium doesn’t really matter, as long as we just do it. As long as we take that time to introspect and express. That’s the first step we all can take to grow toward becoming exponential coaches. Expression is the first step to becoming an exponential coach.

'I'm So Busy': A Signal of Organizational Distrust

I cringe whenever I ask someone “how’s it going” and they reply back with, 'I'm soooo busy.’.

Sometimes, it’s stated sincerely. But too often it’s a humblebrag, a ploy to assert status, or a facade for someone who really isn’t accomplishing much of anything. For instance, a colleague might constantly mention their packed schedule in meetings and emails, yet their actual output barely reflects the supposed busyness.

Almost always, “I’m busy" is not what someone actually means. When I hear, 'I've been so busy…,' I often wonder if what they really mean is something like:

• “I don’t know what’s actually most important, so I’m doing a little of everything.”

• “I want you to think I’m important, so I’m going to act like I am by giving the appearance that people have asked me to do a lot of stuff.”

• “I don’t know how to delegate or coach people, so I’m doing everything myself.”

• “Our organization doesn’t value results, just the appearance of results so I have to make it seem like I’m working really hard.”

• “Our culture isn’t trusting, and I’m afraid to be transparent and specific with you about my job.”

• “I don’t trust you enough or have the time for you now, so I’m making polite small talk about something other than the weather.”

• “I’ve given up because no matter how hard I try, my leadership doesn’t make a decision or ever say no to anything.”

• “I don’t know what my job actually is so I’m taking shots in the dark to try to put in an honest day’s work.”

• “Help.”

I’m quite skeptical of the phrase “I’m just sooo busy.” This phrase often serves as coded language for deeper issues. I avoid using it to ensure my words match my true intentions, and perhaps you should too.

While 'I'm just sooo busy' might seem trivial, it often masks deeper issues of mistrust and miscommunication within an organization. By saying one thing but meaning another, employees reveal a culture that does not support straightforward, honest dialogue. This should concern us all—not just as a nuisance but as a symptom of larger, systemic problems.

Hearing this phrase shouldn’t just pass by unnoticed. It should prompt us to adopt a more curious and compassionate approach, asking ourselves: What is really being said here? And why isn't there room for honesty?

Let’s challenge ourselves and our workplaces to foster a culture where transparency and trust are the norm, not the exception. What would have to be true for your organization to become a place where 'I'm busy' is no longer a common response?

How to Avoid Boondoggle Projects

I’ve spent too much of my life on absolute boondoggles of projects. Now, I know better.

To avoid boondoggle projects in any organization or team, these five questions must be clear to everyone (especially to me): who, what, to what end, why, and how.

Here they are:

• Who are we serving? Answering this provides clarity on whose needs we really have to meet and who the judge of success and failure actually is. If we’re not clear on who is saying “thank you” at the end of all this, how can we do something magical for them?

• To what end do we aspire? This clarifies what a successful mission looks like. The needle has to move on something; otherwise, why are we putting forth any effort?

• What are we delivering? This clarifies the tangible thing we have to put in front of someone’s face or into their hands. If we’re not clear on what we’re building, aren’t we all just wasting our time?

• Why does this matter? This clarifies the urgency and importance. If this doesn’t matter a lot, let’s respect ourselves enough to do something else that does.

• How are we going to get from here to the end? This clarifies the process. If we don’t know how to get this done, will we ever finish?

Answering these five questions is the cheapest, simplest project charter you’ve ever had. If everyone on the team has the same answers to these questions, you’ll prevent the project from becoming a boondoggle.

If we’re part of leading a project, getting the team to clarity on these five questions is our job.

Legacy Beyond Life: Introducing the Centennial Obituary Exercise

Warren Buffett and others use a technique called the 'reverse obituary.' You write the obituary you want and then work backwards to make it happen. It's a simple yet impactful way to explore our inner world, and I recommend everyone tries it. Have you ever engaged in a reflection exercise like this? What did you discover about yourself?

Introducing the Centennial Obituary

I've been experimenting with a twist on this idea, called the 'Centennial Obituary.' Here's the concept. Even if you’re not a theist, humor me.

Picture this: It's 100-150 years after your death, and you're in God's office. He tells you:

'Neil, it's been over a century since you left Earth and your physical body. All those you loved, and who loved you, have since joined us here. You've listened to the stories of their lives. During your lifetime, you had aspirations to contribute to the world and hoped your actions would create a lasting impact, long after your passing.

[God gestures towards a screen on the wall, which reveals itself].

On this screen, you can see the long-term impact of your life. But there's a catch: You can only see results in three areas. Which three do you pick?'

In the next section, I’ll share my three areas to illustrate how the exercise works. But before I do, give this a think: which three areas would you pick?

Personal Reflections on the Exercise

This exercise is fascinating because it encourages us to think about something bigger than our immediate lives. The way the question is framed forces us to consider what truly matters to us—those things we deem significant enough to influence, even well beyond our own lifetimes and immediate personal connections.

If asked, I would probably respond to God with something like this:

'First, I always hoped that by focusing on reflection and figuring out how to help others explore their inner world, the world would become more thoughtful, compassionate, and courageous. If I was good enough at this, I figured the people I influence might also influence and teach others, fostering a ripple effect of understanding and acceptance. Did my choices help this ripple effect to happen?

Second, I was deeply invested in helping those around me to fully realize their talents and potential. I believed that by leading in organizations in innovative ways, and sharing new approaches to run organizations, these leadership behaviors and systems would proliferate. Consequently, more people would find themselves in environments where they could truly thrive, unlocking their full potential. Did my efforts contribute to this change?

Lastly, I wanted America, particularly Detroit and the State of Michigan, to be places characterized by increased trust. The data which showed declining social trust and faith in government were always devastating to me. I aimed to improve how government served citizens in the hope that it would restore people's trust in institutions and, ultimately, in each other. This, I believed, was crucial for Americans to experience true freedom. Did my actions contribute to this goal?'

Conclusion: A Broader Perspective on Life's Impact

In conclusion, the key distinction between the reverse obituary and the Centennial Obituary lies in the time horizon. The reverse obituary concludes at our death—it's ultimately a measure of our lives. The Centennial Obituary, on the other hand, propels our thinking well beyond our death and the lifetimes of those we hold dearest. This shift in perspective liberates us to envision a broader impact. At the same time, being limited to three domains compels us to become highly specific.

Both the reverse obituary and the Centennial Obituary have their unique places in our toolkit for reflection. The reverse obituary is best for contemplating our lives and the influence we have on those closest to us. The Centennial Obituary, conversely, is ideal for determining the subtle yet intentional ripples we wish to create, hopeful that their effects will resonate long after we're gone.

Both methods differ, and both are valuable exercises in their own right. I encourage you to spend some time today thinking about your own Centennial Obituary - this exercise was very illuminating for me. What three areas of long-term impact would you choose to see? Please do share your thoughts in the comments. I would love to hear about the ripples you hope to make.

The Art of Spotting Bullshit: A Guide for the Impact-minded Professional

If we’re type of people who care about making a positive contribution - for those we’re serving, for our enterprises, and society - it’s important to sniff out bullshitters so we can surround ourselves with people committed to and capable of making a difference.

Why? Because to make an actual impact I need to surround myself with people who actually are able to accomplish something (and be that type of person myself) rather than people who are all smoke and mirrors. Bullshitters may initially impress with their confidence and eloquence, but ultimately, they leave you facing the consequences alone. So if we want to increase our chances at making an impact for those we’re serving we have to do something simple, but often challenging: avoid bullshitters.

But the problem with a good bullshitter is that they’re good at bullshitting. Moreover, many capable people aren’t good at promoting themselves - precisely because they spend most of their time solving problems and helping people rather than bullshitting.

When you’re in the trenches with someone, day after day, it becomes easier to tell whether they’re a bullshitter or not. But we often have to decide whether to hire someone, promote them, work for them, or partner with them without being in the trenches with them first.

And so sniffing out bullshitters is actually a really important skill. So if you’re the sort of person who cares more about making a contribution than you do about promoting yourself this post is an invitation to you. How do you sniff out a bullshitter?

To get us started, here are some of the techniques that I’ve experimented with over the years:

• Ask them, “Can you walk me through it from start to finish, in detail?”

• Listen for jargon and corporate-isms which don’t have actual meaning. If someone can only speak in code and with overused corporate cliches, it usually means they don’t know what they’re actually talking about.

• Look at how individual contributors - especially someone’s non-managerial direct reports - talk about them. If they can’t tell you specifically why someone is capable, they probably aren’t. People who work on the front lines directly with products or customers have the most reliable radars for detecting bullshitters.

• Ask them, “can you tell me what aspects of that accomplishment were luck and which were the result of intentional decisions?” I haven’t asked this question in an interview yet, but I want to. Even bullshitters can accomplish things if they’re lucky - but probably can’t fake intention if no intention ever existed.

• Look for complex slides with lots of words or highly complex and ambigious objective statements. People who are able to explain complex things simply have done the work to hold an opinion.

• Look for a track record of bouncing around. Bullshitters can’t stick with a job for more than 2 years because once people realize they are bullshitters they know it’ll be easy for them to be laid-off or fired. Anyone can fake it in a job for a year or two. Of course, there are exceptions, especially when the person in front of you has a non-traditional background or extenuating personal circumstances.

• Do they gossip? If you don’t have anything more productive to say, spinning stories about others is an effective sleight of hand to distract people from one’s own lack of vision, intellect, or leadership.

These are just some tells I’ve seen as a pattern over the years. What has helped you detect bullshitters?

In closing, I’d like to be fair to a close cousin of bullshitters: storytellers. Storytellers root in the truth and aim to serve collective goals through the narratives they share. Bullshitters in my experience are quite the opposite - I’ve found them to be narcissists who care more about themselves than others.

Telling stories is really important in organizational life because stories help us do things like: make meaning of our work, motivate us to act, and learn from past mistakes. Story tellers matter because telling stories is an essential part of making an impact. The difference is subtle, but important: story telling moves a team or constituency forward, bullshitting only moves an individual person into positions of higher status and authority. Bullshitting is hype without substance, storytelling is substance.

I hope I’m not a bullshitter, I suppose I don’t know that for sure (after all, I do spend a lot of time writing and talking). I do know, though, that I don’t want to be. And I do know that bullshitters often get ahead and get a lot of credit, at least for awhile. And I do know, finally, that I want to leave this world better than I found it.

I figured that by putting a bat signal out on how to suss out bullshitters, we can more easily get the ourselves and others in a better position to make a contribution and at least make it less likely we accidentally hire, partner with, or work for a bullshitter.

I've shared my strategies, but I'm always learning. What are your tried-and-true methods for identifying bullshitters? Share in the comments below.

Beyond Efficiency: Strategically Deploying Gen AI in Enterprises

The concept that velocity is different from speed is one of the core ideas I draw upon when thinking about strategy, leadership, and organizational management. Lately, I've been using this concept to think about how to deploy emerging tech, like Generative AI, within enterprises.

The difference between speed and velocity is crucial. Speed is about how fast we're moving, for example, 55 miles per hour. Velocity, however, describes moving at 55 mph towards a specific direction, like heading East. This distinction has helped me see some nuance when discussing generative AI with colleagues and peers. For example, a computer software engineer can debug code faster using a large language model as a coding partner. While generative AI certainly helps with speed, merely focusing on productivity through speed probably misses the larger opportunity generative AI provides to managers of teams and enterprises.

In this example, improving speed might actually reduce overall productivity and impact, if the software being improved isn't solving a valuable problem in the first place. Here, generative AI would be more useful in helping the software engineer determine which feature would be most relevant and impact for the user. Going faster is only helpful if you're going in the right direction, the most valuable direction, to begin with. Using generative AI to increase speed in the wrong direction would be a missed opportunity.

It might be tempting to think of generative AI as a tool to "make our employees more efficient." However, it would probably be more transformative to use generative AI as a tool to "help our colleagues spend their time on the most valuable problems." This logic doesn't just apply to IT departments. For example, generative AI can help marketing teams draft copy faster, but it's probably more valuable to ensure they're targeting the best possible consumer segment. For operations teams, Gen AI might help to spot and improve manufacturing inefficiencies, but it might be more useful to help spot which product lines aren’t worth producing in the first place.

As an enterprise leader scrambling to deploy Gen AI, it’s easy to assume that the job to be done is to make everyone else more efficient. While this is partly true, business and technology leaders, especially those deploying powerful, emerging, tech like AI, should also contemplate use cases that improve the quality of leadership and strategy in enterprises - even though doing so might indicate that those leaders had it wrong in the first place.

Employing generative AI in a self-aware manner will require a significant degree of humility. But I believe it's worth it. After all, what's the point of heading east faster if we should be going northwest to begin with?

Consider the lesson learned from my own experience at work, which vividly underscores the crucial difference between speed and velocity in the application of generative AI. As a product owner for data, I've seen my engineering colleagues leverage tools like ChatGPT to streamline coding SQL queries, boosting our operational speed. However, a pivotal moment came when I discovered that a dataset we had meticulously prepared and delivered was left untouched by our business customer for months. Which, by the way, indicated that I had made a poor decision on what was worth spending time on.

Despite our efficiency in producing the dataset, it lacked the essential element of value to the customer. This incident revealed a stark truth: our focus on making engineering tasks faster, though beneficial, paled in comparison to the importance of selecting the right targets from the outset. There have been instances where the right datasets, aligned with clear and compelling use cases, saved our customers millions of dollars. The real win, therefore, isn't just in enhancing our engineers' efficiency but in ensuring that our efforts are directed towards creating datasets so valuable and relevant that our customers are eager to utilize them for significant impact from the moment of delivery.

To truly leverage the potential of generative AI within our enterprises, we must go beyond the pursuit of efficiency. The most obvious path is often the least disruptive—enhancing what already exists. However, the opportunity to create significant, long-lasting value lies in our willingness to question the fundamentals of our strategies and leadership approaches. It's about asking ourselves:

• Where are we merely maintaining the status quo when we could be exceeding it?

• In what areas are we failing as leaders and strategists to anticipate and shape the future?

• How can we redefine our objectives to not just improve but transform our enterprise?

This journey requires a substantial dose of humility and a willingness to embrace change, characteristics not often associated with leadership but absolutely critical in this context. Challenging our 'sacred cows' and reevaluating our core assumptions about what our enterprises do can reveal the most impactful opportunities for applying emerging technologies. Let's commit to this introspective and transformative approach, aiming not just to enhance but to innovate and redefine our enterprises for the better.

Team 144

““No man is more important than the team.
No coach is more important than the team.
The Team. The Team. The Team””

— Bo Schembechler

---

One of the strongest convictions I have is the value, beauty, and honor it is to be part of a great team.

It’s in my DNA, probably because as an only child I have desperately wanted to be part of something bigger than myself for my whole life. And, as an alumnus of the University of Michigan, the value of “The Team” is part of my identity, because of Coach Bo Schembechler’s legendary speech which I’ve linked above.

On Monday, January 8, the 144th edition of the University of Michigan football team will take the field to compete for a national championship. I have never wanted a Michigan team to win as badly as this one.

For me though, it’s less about football and the cachet that comes from being an alumnus of a team that wins “the natty.” I have admired this team from the very start because they are winning AS A TEAM and embody the spirit of an elite team, through and through.

One of the Detroit Police Department leaders I looked up to most had this on her team’s work area whiteboard, in perpetuity: “You get a lot more done when you don’t care who gets the credit.”

That, to me, is the simplest way of describing what a truly great team believes. It’s the same ethos that Coach Bo describes in “The Team Speech”. A truly great team cares more about the mission, the cause, the person they are serving, and the team’s goal more than individual accolades. That spirit is what has I’ve seen in Team 144 and been inspired by this whole season.

Here are just some of the examples that have stuck out to me that show this spirit in Team 144:

Coach Harbaugh is constantly deflecting attention in post game interviews and quickly getting off camera. Instead, he says to the field reporter, “you should talk to this man right here” and gracefully exists before his player takes the mic.

In the Ohio State game, All-American Offensive Lineman Zak Zinter went down with an injury late in the game, at a critical moment. On the very next play Blake Corum ran in a touchdown. The first thing he does? Go up directly to the sideline camera and throw up his teammate’s number with his hands, dedicating the TD to their injured teammate, on behalf of the entire squad.

Apparently this week, Coach Harbaugh asked JJ McCarthy (QB1) if he wanted to talk about this future (i.e., his NFL prospects). McCarthy basically gives him a “naw, I’m good coach.” Basically saying instead that he’s focused on the national championship game and they can talk about his future after the CFP championship.

In the CFP Semifinal, Michigan (with 2 five star recruits on its roster) beat Alabama (with 18 five star recruits on its roster). That doesn’t happen unless coaches develop players up and down the depth chart and unless everybody participates and steps up to play their best as a single unit.

There was clearly a culture change after the Covid season. This team openly talks about how much they love each other and how they play for each other and play for Michigan. In any post game interview I’ve seen, the reporters don’t seem like they can get someone to talk about themselves instead of the team.

After each huge win, I love seeing Blake Corum’s expression. He and other top players constantly talk about the team’s goal. And Corum’s words and expression sum up the same thing, “Job’s not done.” This is huge on a football team to have one of your best players and team leaders focused on the team’s goal immediately after a big win. It sends a huge message on what’s important to the entire locker room.

After all the drama of the season, you didn’t hear any fingerpointing coming out of the locker room. All we saw was unity, and all we heard was the same message, we’re a team and we’re focused on our goals. No matter what was swirling in the press and no matter who the head coach was for that week, you heard no dissent in the ranks. Not once.

Several of the team’s key players decided to return for another season because they had “unfinished business” and wanted to win a championship. Moreover, after last year’s loss to TCU in the CFP semifinal, JJ McCarthy said, “But we’ll be back, and I promise that.” And here we are.

To be sure, there are more examples than what I’ve listed. These are just some of my favorites. The punchline is this: Team 144 embodies what it means to be a team.

—

Sometimes, I get really frustrated with life at work. So often, I worry that someone is going to put themselves ahead of the team. I’ve experienced it personally, and it happens a lot: People hide information so they can maneuver. They try to claim credit for the team’s work behind the scenes. They throw you under the bus, baselessly, to the boss. They don’t give others opportunities to lead because they want to earn their gold star or be top of mind for a promotion.

To be clear, all this is bullshit and wrong. To be sure, I’m not perfect (I’m sure I’ve behaved selfishly) but I honestly try everyday to be a team player and not a selfish agent. And, very little makes me angrier or sadder than when people screw the team to advance their individual interests. It offends me to my core, and makes me feel hopeless that true, pure teamership is possible.

But Team 144 gives me hope.

The fact there’s a team out there playing elite college football and competing for the sport’s highest championship gives me hope. This year, there’s at least one elite team, in it’s truest and purest sense - that’s out there in the world doing it right. Team 144 has reminded me that it’s still possible - even in a culture that often seems defined by self-absorption and self-centeredness - to have a great team. The idea of a team - that acts as one unit and achieves a mission greater than it’s individual members - still lives.

So to Team 144, thank you. Thank you for a great season. Thank you for giving us alumni something to get excited about and reconnect over. But most of all, Team 144, this wolverine thanks you for reminding us what Coach Bo meant when he proclaimed, “The Team. The Team. The Team.”

Go get that natty tomorrow, and forever Go Blue. We’ll be rooting hard for you from Detroit.

It’s not about the words

For a long time now, I’ve believed that being a leader is hard, but it’s not complicated. If we take responsibility we are a leader. If we do not take responsibility, we are not. It’s that simple.

What seems to matter is not the word we use to describe ourselves. What we need to understand is two things:

1. Do we have power, yes or no?

2. Are we taking responsibility, yes or no?

Ultimately, the place we have to be the most honest is the mirror: When I have power, how do I act? What about when I don’t?

The rest is just words.