Trust Is Not Negotiable

I’ve been thinking a lot about trust.

I’ve been thinking a lot about truth.

I’m trying to wrap my head around what I thought for fiftysomething years were the basics: If we’re going to climb a mountain together, we have to agree on what mountain we’re climbing, where it is, are there airports nearby to get in and get out, has it been climbed before and under what circumstances—you know, the facts.

We won’t necessarily know the exact temperature at the top, the weather patterns tomorrow or the next day, the precise condition of the trail at every turn, those sorts of variables. There are always unknowns ahead of us that we’ll discover together, but if we can’t start on the same page, how can we possibly agree on plans to address the unknowns?

I find these days truly unsettling, not just because there is a debilitating health crisis before us, but because I don’t have enough trusted information to know what the crisis is and the ability to share in that belief set collegially with a vast majority of the population.

We are confused. We are bombarded with conflicting information. We are scared, anxious, and divided when we need to be informed, building consensus, and united.

How do we address monumental problems when we have little idea what we can believe?

In the age of the Internet, with the ability to share more factual information globally than in all of history, we are mired in noise.

How do we navigate a crisis and ask people to make personal sacrifices—not the least is the temporary surrendering of certain personal liberties—without a unified voice in leadership speaking with sound judgment and reverence for the impact of expert advice?

To me, the deepest impact of the Covid-19 pandemic beyond the tragic loss of human life remains the nagging head fakes that cause me to have no idea what to believe.

Contradictory information is not just a health concern. The unrestricted blending of fact and speculative opinion can undermine our entire economy. If truth blows in the wind, if we have no idea what basic financial information constitutes truth, how can we wisely invest? How can we guide careers? How can we effectively build plans for our future?

Trust and truth are not just about bidirectional knowledge transfer or multi-directional pollutants of critical exchange. Once we accept the notion that lies will be lies and are simply part of the fabric of sharing a planet, we effectively invite opportunism and exploitation as normal behavior. Today there would seem almost nothing that surprises us in lowering our expectations of those whose paths we may cross.

As quickly as the novel coronavirus was becoming a national emergency, some of our fellow citizens took it upon themselves to empty stores shelves of toilet paper, hoarding for themselves rather than caring about the needs of others.

As soon as hand sanitizer became scarce, many sellers of it started price gouging. Even though we have laws about profiteering in crisis, even though it is a purely inhuman act, they did it to extract obscene profits, to hell with the ongoing trust of their customers.

Earlier this month it was revealed that an international criminal operation was filing fraudulent unemployment claims in the United States. Congressionally directed funds meant to help people became the target of a scam. My own company saw one of the first fraudulent claims.

With so many people working from home, phishing and identity theft are on the rise. Credit card fraud is escalating. Fellow human beings see upside in the confusion brought on by the rapid adoption of technologies meant to connect us. Instead they would steal from us.

We are parroting unseemly behavior. We hear lies coming from our foremost leaders. Somehow that becomes permission to follow suit. Self-interest becomes justified and paramount. What we allow we let spread.

Why is all of this bothering me so much, beyond the underlying sickness it unmasks in our global community?

I am a brand builder. The basis of a brand is trust. A brand is a promise. Without trust in a brand, most products become random commodities. The balance of price, quality, and service is reduced to the lowest common denominator. Without brands, we don’t have customers, we have transactions. That is a pure downward spiral in economic viability.

I am also a business leader. When I say leader, I only can apply that descriptor in as much as people choose to follow me. Certainly I can impose hierarchy and insist on the power of authority. If you have ever managed creative people, you know how far that will get you.

If all trust is gone, then I have to assume trust in me is gone. If all truth is gone, I can’t expect anyone to believe anything I say is the truth. A complete lack of credibility in the chain of command is the fastest path to chaos in business I can imagine.

So yeah, it’s personal. If the societal fabric is unwound by manipulation and cynical agendas, my efficacy is also tainted. If you don’t trust my brand, you won’t be my customer. If no one trusts my direction, I can’t do my job and I will have no product to sell.

Is every detail in a company always able to be posted on the side of a cube wall? No, certainly not, there are all kinds of trade secrets and human sensitivities that merit protection. I am not particularly a fan of radical transparency. It sounds much better than it is and I have seldom met colleagues with the pure objectivity to pull it off.

Does it mean there is no way for us to walk down a path of honesty and clarity without a categorical imperative? If you don’t understand that there are shades of grey in decision-making that don’t cross the boundaries of trust, I’m not sure anything I’ve written here will be of value to you.

Integrity is a calling. It is a beckoning aspiration that molds and shapes behavior. Intention matters. Respect matters. Acknowledgment of consequence matters.

If you have shouldered the responsibility of executive leadership or brand stewardship, you know that once integrity is compromised, it is almost impossible to restore faith in a promise of any kind. We teach this to young children, why the smallest lie matters because it makes the next lie possible. Once you’ve lied or cheated and you’ve been caught, no one can ever be certain of your words again.

Am I giving up the fight against the absurd? Hardly. Am I done compromising around the notion of false equivalency? I’ve yet to compromise on values that are sacrosanct and I see no value dancing around an undisciplined contradiction that is empirically wrong.

We can’t let down our guard against emboldened con artists. The disease they spread will never have a cure.

Trust is not negotiable because truth is not negotiable. Talk yourself out of that and you have opted into the source of aimless unwinding.

Trust has to matter to you. Telling and hearing the truth has to matter to you. Commit yourself to demanding more of your own integrity, and one by one we might be able to rebuild our way out of unearned gains and stolen promises.

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Image: Pixabay

Embracing Puerto Rico

It wasn’t exactly a slow news week.

Covid-19, a.k.a the novel coronavirus, was declared a global pandemic by the World Health Organization.

The President of the United States declared a national emergency. As he described his proclamation, those were “two very big words.”

The stock market crashed.

The NCAA canceled March Madness.

The NBA and NHL suspended their seasons.

MLB postponed Opening Day of the 2020 season.

Disney closed all its theme parks.

Travel between the United States and most of Europe was announced to be suspended.

Schools began closing and attempting to move course instruction online. Thousands of classroom teachers who had never heard of Zoom quickly discovered modern videoconferencing.

Other than 9-11, I can’t remember a week like that.

Meanwhile, I had arrived the previous weekend with a team of volunteers in San Juan, Puerto Rico. We had committed to a service trip there more than six months ago partly to help with the aftermath of Hurricane Maria, but also to begin a wide-ranging relationship between our university alma mater and our clearly underserved fellow American citizens about 1150 miles southeast of Florida.

While we were getting media snippets of the chaos on the mainland, we found ourselves highly engaged in a set of more basic, everyday challenges faced by the people of Puerto Rico.

We learned about the historic struggles of Puerto Rico, approximately 400 years under Spanish authority and just over 100 years under American governance.

We learned about the deeply personal, unique, and diverse culture of Puerto Rico in music, dance, mural art, proper apparel, naming public buildings, storytelling, legends, heroes, and political argument.

We learned that there seems to be an infinite number of delightful ways to combine rice and beans, in much the same way many on the mainland think of pizza or burgers. Puerto Rican cuisine, particularly Mofongo, is a source of creativity, pleasure, and national pride. Locally grown artisan coffee is exquisite. Although sugar cane is no longer harvested in Puerto Rico, the Commonwealth is the largest producer of rum in the world.

We learned through our host partner, Instituto Nueva Escuela (INE), how Montessori education is making a seminal change in the efficacy of Puerto Rico’s public school system. Understanding the social and emotional needs of children brings compassion into the classroom as a working platform organically linked to lesson planning.

We learned that the resources of our nation are spread unequally, but we can help to fix that in small ways by offering to redirect our attention to those in need.

We learned once again that before you can help anyone, you have to learn to listen closely to what they are saying. When it’s in a language other than your own, you have to listen even more closely.

We learned there really is a way of speaking called Spanglish, and that the idioms of an island landscape sharing Spanish and English languages are charming and fun to learn.

We learned the tact necessary to be a part of an adjacent community, the humility necessary to offer to teach new skills, and the camaraderie of sharing a purpose with like-minded volunteers absent an agenda other than to be helpful.

We learned that our love is always needed everywhere we are willing to share it.

This was my third trip with the Yale Alumni Service Corps, a collection of individuals who pledge time each year to enter the everyday lives of friends around the world we otherwise would never meet.

Our visit to San Juan focused on elementary and middle school education, public health, athletic sportsmanship, and construction projects to improve the local school infrastructure. My own prior experience in these programs centered on coaching small-business entrepreneurs, but this time I was assigned to a team dedicated to teaching newsletter writing skills to help information move more easily into and out of the classroom.

When you start the week explaining what a newsletter is and end the week with six classrooms each producing twenty beautiful newsletters, you get a sense of what kind of impact a single week can actually deliver.

When you see a playground without shelter from the sun on one weekend and a team-built canopy bringing comforting shade to that same playground the following weekend, you know the week’s work was well applied.

When a chorus of joyful children surrounds you singing their favorite songs and dancing a set of newly learned steps, you have a sense that the time you spent together might give them hope to continue their studies after you depart.

Puerto Rico was certainly hit hard by Maria, but that’s only part of the story. The main island of Puerto Rico is approximately 110 miles long, 35 miles wide, and home to more than three million people. These individuals are U.S. citizens, yet they have no vote in federal elections, notably the presidency. Although they elect their governor by popular vote, they have but one non-voting member of Congress.

While Puerto Ricans pay no federal income tax, they pay FICA and progressive local taxes. They work as hard as any Americans I know, believe in democracy as much as any Americans I know, serve in uniform and are deployed when called to war—and yet their voices in times of need are severely limited.

Puerto Rico endured a severe downturn in its economy tied to a loss of jobs in the pharmaceutical industry with a change in American tax policy. Just as it was making progress recovering from Hurricane Maria, it was hit by a devastating earthquake. In order to rebuild fallen structures that may not have met code restrictions over the past 50 years, clear title is required to receive FEMA or bank financing, yet there are few resources available to Puerto Ricans to secure title to property where families often have lived for generations.

When Puerto Rico needs help from its parent nation, where is the voice it deserves?

Think of it this way: If Puerto Rico were a U.S. state instead of a territory, it would have two senators and perhaps as many as six voting members in the House of Representatives. This isn’t an insignificant segment of our population. This is a vital, energized, eloquent citizenry in need of the attention our current laws are not offering them.

Will Puerto Rico someday be a state that enjoys all the benefits of representation so many of us do? Who knows?

In the coming decades while that is decided, I invite you when the opportunity allows to visit this gorgeous, magnificent, enchanted Caribbean gem and offer the gifts of your talent or treasure to speed its recovery. These are our fellow American citizens, and they welcome our friendship as much as our love. You will be embraced!

When we serve others, we fuel the spirit of our own souls. When you’re dancing the bomba in the warm tropical breeze, you might get a sense of how glorious outreach can be.

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Photo by the author on location with YASC.