I’m going to credit my extreme COVID preparedness in 2020 to my hyper-obsession with news during the 2016-2020 era (in fact, I can’t believe we’re coming up on the five-year anniversary of my first warning to my personal network!).
I read All the Things, All the Time. But today I sit here as someone who is pretty much worn out by it all, so I’ll focus my reading in specific areas moving forward. That’s my plan, anyway, to remain engaged but emotionally detached.
That’s a buzzword-worthy practice that I’d like to share with you here. This practice will work for me, personally, in two ways (I hope): First, it’ll work in my personal life; that’s the focus I mention above.
Second, it’ll work for me in organizational life, and maybe it’ll work for you, too. By way of lead-in, I’ll share a scenario where I think this tactic will be especially helpful because it’s a dynamic that is particularly irksome for me and probably something many organizational citizens experience.
This post is sort of a lesson within a lesson for us because first I’m going to share the details of the scenario because I think it can be valuable to us in organizations, but then I’m going to talk about what I’ll call a light buzzword (what I mean by “light buzzword” is that it appears in limited context right now): Engaged Detachment.
Despite the limited use, I think this particular buzzword has applicability for all of us here as we enter 2025, and I want to thank an astute reader for sending it my way. It’s not the first time we’ve seen this concept, but I’ll talk about it in the context of org life.
I’ve been stewing over something that bothers me in organizations to the point where in a conversation with someone about it, they needed to tell me that regardless of the hypocrisy I was describing, it’s the sort of thing I need to detach from if I want to maintain my sanity in organizational life.
The rhetorical trick I’m about to share is a light-side/dark-side moment. If you want to focus your team’s energy around something, you can use it productively.
If you want to shut down the discourse in your organization on a matter, if you want to quell any possibility for dissent, you can use the same exact tactic.
This is something I do in my own teaching of writing, by the way: We explore bad arguments and logical fallacy, but I make clear that these things will work for certain audiences because I want them to recognize that just because something is a poor choice for us academically, that doesn’t mean it has no utility commercially or persuasively. I try to teach writers how to use these tools for good.
Okay, here is the specific tactic I’m talking about now. My focus will be on dark-side use:
First, identify the stakeholders. Why are we doing what we do in this organization? Why do we even exist? Let’s assume for a minute that you’re not in a commercial enterprise because that ecosystem functions differently. Let’s assume that we’re in a human-focused, human-serving environment where shareholders aren’t involved.
Once you’ve done that, just leverage their interests in any decision you make/present as a leader. All you need to say is this:
It’s for the patients (clients, students, whatever).
This strategy is brilliant because the language immediately situates anyone who opposes a policy or decision as an outgroup member: If you disagree with this policy (no matter how short-sighted it may be! No matter how much data to the contrary exists! No matter how many negative and predictable consequences will result!), you are in opposition to our patients (clients, students, whatever).
From the rhetorical perspective, I’m impressed. Nothing is quite as effective as this technique in shutting down dissent in organizations, especially when it’s coupled with high costs for out-group members (lack of recognition, opportunity, advancement, plus lower performance reviews despite actual performance, etc.).
(And that’s why I call it HYPOCRISY. No organization will explicitly state that they do these things. But by leveraging this particular rhetorical approach, they’re setting themselves in opposition to their own stated organizational values, and I cannot stand it.)
If you want to run an organization or a department where unwritten rules like CBS (“cuz Bob Says”) invisibly and informally drive your enterprise, this tactic is for you. “Bob” in this scenario is Bob Stiller of Green Mountain Coffee Roasters, who details his leadership growth in his recent book. Basically, he came to realize that these invisible and unwritten CBS rules were hindering innovation. The tactic I described is one such mechanism for creating invisible and unwritten rules in an organization.
From a leadership perspective, I’m embarrassed when I see it, and that’s what led someone to tell me that I need to let it go; I’m far too susceptible to second-hand embarrassment (“YOU aren’t the one doing this, Christine. Why should YOU be mortified by other people’s poor decisions?” I don’t have a good answer, honestly, except that I’m a leadership expert with training in discourse analysis. I know this behavior is in violation of everything we know about good leadership).
I know a few lawyers occupy this space, so you probably already know this adage: "If you have the facts on your side, pound the facts; if you have the law on your side, pound the law; if you have neither the facts nor the law, pound the table."
And I think that’s why I’m mortified when I see this approach because it feels so desperate: It’s frustrating to witness and out of alignment in “data-driven” (or “data-informed,” as people like to say) environments where data may tell a completely different story (remember Jeffrey’s warm data, for example!).
That brings me to the light buzzword an astute reader sent my way (thanks!), and I think it’ll help me in myriad ways. Maybe you, too.
When we encounter situations like this one or — in our lives outside organizations — when political decisions are made and the stakes often feel overwhelming, the idea of engaged detachment might seem like a contradiction:
How can we stay deeply involved in our work, our community, and even political action while also maintaining the clarity and calm needed to navigate it all? That’s the balancing act engaged detachment offers, I think: A way to care without losing ourselves.
At its heart, engaged detachment isn’t about stepping away or disengaging. It’s about showing up fully but staying flexible and grounded. We invest in the work, the people, and the causes that matter to us, but we don’t let their outcomes define our emotional well-being. Instead, we keep our perspective, ensuring that our passion doesn’t turn into burnout or despair because citizenship of any sort (organizational or national) is a long game.
Why It Matters
For those feeling overwhelmed by the constant churn of political news or the daily grind at work (especially in the context of the kind of org dynamics I described above) engaged detachment provides a way to move forward with purpose. It allows us to advocate for change, excel in our careers as we see fit, and engage meaningfully with others all without being consumed by frustration or the fear of failure.
Imagine we’re working on a high-pressure project or advocating for a cause we care about deeply. Without detachment, setbacks can feel personal, criticism can sting too sharply, and the weight of responsibility can be crushing. With detachment, we’re still fully engaged, but we can step back enough to see the bigger picture. That space allows us to pivot when needed, find solutions without panic, and keep going even when things don’t go as planned.
Or when they go exactly as planned, when the plan that was supposed to be “for the patients (clients, students, whatever” ends up doing the exact opposite (exactly as predicted and articulated in advance!).
How do we do it, then?
Engaged Detachment in Practice
So, how do we make this work, both in our professional life and in our efforts to create change? Here are some practical strategies:
Focus on What We Can Control: It’s easy to feel paralyzed by everything that’s out of our hands, from organizational decisions that we can predict will lead to unintended negative consequences to the latest political crisis. Engaged detachment reminds us to identify what’s within our sphere of influence and act on that, letting go of what’s beyond our reach.
Stay Connected to our Values: Detachment doesn’t mean we stop caring; it means we care smart. We can ground our efforts in our core values, whether that’s equity, integrity, or collaboration. This clarity helps us make decisions without being swayed by every twist or every decision that is out of alignment with our purported organizational values (I recognize this scenario as a flash point for me; I struggle with hypocrisy in organizations mightily).
Embrace Imperfection: Nothing—no project, plan, or political movement—will ever go perfectly. By detaching from the need for perfection, we create space for adaptability and resilience. It’s not about lowering our standards but rather recognizing that progress matters more than perfection. (You know, I’m really just writing advice for myself at this point, I think.)
Find our Recharge Zone: Staying engaged while detached requires energy. Prioritize recovery, whether that’s spending time with loved ones, practicing mindfulness, or simply stepping away from the noise to reconnect with ourselves.
Stay in the Conversation—but Choose Words Wisely: Whether it’s a workplace meeting or a discussion about national politics, detachment helps us avoid reactive, emotionally charged responses. Instead, we can contribute thoughtfully, driving the conversation forward instead of letting it spiral.
I want you to know that this is very difficult advice for me to give, even though I think it’s the right path. It’s difficult because I’m also drafting a few things for an upcoming course on mid-level leadership, and one point is about mitigating the very things this advice is meant to help us navigate. Experts say the same thing! In the latest MIT Sloan Management Review:
Leaders need to break through the tacit understanding of what can't be said by creating a culture, with appropriate mechanisms in place, where people feel that they have permission to speak up about tough topics.
And here's the thing: Leaders who like those unwritten rules, who don't want to be challenged, are ultimately undermined if they won't confront the truths that workers close to the business can speak to. Especially in times of extreme uncertainty and change . . . your ability to make good decisions depends on having a complete picture of your context, which only a diverse set of perspectives can provide.
Personally, I don’t think we — deep in the org — should NEED to manage these dynamics. I think we should all be functioning in healthy, psychologically safe, intellectually honest environments with expert leaders!
But let’s continue with the advice here.
Implications for Leadership—and Beyond
For mid-level leaders, engaged detachment can be more than a personal practice; it can be a leadership skill. Teams need leaders who care enough to listen, guide, and invest in their success without micromanaging or taking every misstep personally. Detachment enables us to set boundaries, foster autonomy, and focus on long-term goals over short-term frustrations.
But it’s not just for formal leaders. In a broader sense, we’re all leaders in the spaces we occupy, whether at work, in our communities, or among friends and family. Practicing engaged detachment allows us to model resilience and focus, creating ripples that inspire others to approach challenges with the same clarity and purpose.
A Path Forward
Engaged detachment isn’t about giving less of ourselves but rather about giving better. It’s about staying present in the things that matter without being consumed by their weight. And in today’s complex and often divisive world, this balance is more necessary than ever.
So, the next time we feel the pressure—whether it’s a work deadline, a personal disagreement, or the latest political headline—we can take a breath. We can step back. We can ask ourselves what really matters in this moment and what’s within our control. Then we can move forward with purpose, knowing we can care deeply without being consumed.
Engaged detachment doesn’t mean caring less. It means caring smarter, so we can keep showing up for what—and who—matters most.
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