“Everyone’s Justified (And That’s the Problem)”

Over the years, I’ve consumed leadership literature like it was my job—Brené Brown, Seth Godin, John Maxwell. I’ve listened to podcasts by Tony Robbins, Zig Ziglar, and Les Brown. I maintain a Harvard Business Review subscription. I’ve sat through countless webinars, workshops, courses, and even executive coaching sessions.

The core principles are remarkably consistent across every platform: take responsibility, don’t blame others, admit your mistakes, reflect, ask questions, lead with integrity.

Then I turn on the TV, scroll through social media, or open a newspaper, expecting to see these traits modeled by the people we elected to lead us. Instead, what do I find? “It’s the Democrats’ fault.” “It’s the Republicans’ fault.” “It’s the radical left.” “It’s the coastal elites.” “It’s the MAGA extremists.” On and on and on.

I sit here today wondering: Did I waste my time, money, and energy earning three degrees and three educational licenses? Am I doing this all wrong? Maybe the real path to power isn’t paved with accountability and self-reflection—maybe it’s actually built on blaming others, tearing down your opponents, and anointing yourself the high priest of cultural righteousness.

Absolutely not.

I would rather take responsibility. I would rather admit my mistakes, seek compromise, and treat people with compassion. Because here’s what they don’t tell you in those leadership books: accepting a leadership role is a choice, and how you behave in that role is a choice too.

But here’s the twist that keeps me up at night: Most people don’t actually believe they’ve abandoned decency. They genuinely think they’re justified in their cruelty. The attacks? Necessary. The blame-shifting? Self-defense. The refusal to compromise? Principled conviction. We’ve become masters at dressing up our worst impulses in the language of righteousness, convincing ourselves that our vitriol is different because our cause is just.

That’s the real danger—not that we’ve given up on decency, but that we’ve redefined it to excuse whatever behavior serves our tribe.

Every single day, I choose the harder path. And I’m not alone.

So here’s my question for you: If everyone believes they’re the hero of their own story, justified in their harshness toward “the other side,” how do we break the cycle—or have we already normalized a version of leadership where accountability only applies to our opponents