Just… irrelevance
A modest proposal for dealing with failed leadership
Welcome to Pushing Ink, where we navigate the broken world of work, detour into pop culture, and occasionally embark on whimsy-filled side quests… among other hot topics
A while back, I mentioned those deep-set wrinkles at the inner corners of my eyes, at the top of the bridge of my nose. The I’m not mad, just disappointed dual hockey sticks.
The thinker lines, I’m told. More deeply furrowed than ever thanks to leadership so bad that both mad and disappointed doesn’t even begin to cover the feels.
We are well beyond disappointment in leadership. Beyond a leadership shortage. Let’s consider it a dearth. A black hole. A quagmire.
Giggity
We are in trouble.
While my initial thought has always been to rewrite what leadership even means, throw away whatever playbook has come into use over the last decade plus, I suspect there’s an easier first step.
We need to de-center our leaders. Or perhaps practice a little Meidung.
Let me explain!
Within many Amish communities, Meidung is the practice of shunning someone who has been excommunicated. Someone who refuses to repent after violating church rules, wear the correct ‘stache or no ‘stache.
I’m not making fun, but I have been told by those in-the-know, the rules are extremely varied. Also, far be it for me to drag religion into this Substack. Recovering former people-pleaser and veteran of religious deconstruction. However, to me, shunning is a far harsher penalty for all those I’m not mad, just disappointed leaders than any prison.
Unless we are talking about those prison boxes left at the seaside in that terrible movie… but I digress.
Also, and granted, did I mention we are well beyond disappointment? We should all be more than mad. So when it comes to de-centering, or Meidung: how many? What percentage?
Enough.
Enough that failure at the top no longer results in a soft landing.
No speaking gigs.
No advisory boards.
No panels.
No book deals about “lessons learned.”
No redemption tour podcast circuit.
No naming of the things.
No statues.
No rallies.
Certainly no hefty goodbye bonuses.
No quietly sweeping it all under the rug.
Not prison. Not exile. Not even public humiliation.
Just… irrelevance. The quiet understanding that if you spectacularly fail the people you were meant to lead, the microphone, the spotlight, is no longer yours. The mere whisper of your name brings nothing more than blank faces.
I know our American society loves prison bars. However, a form of Meidung is far more painful. I compare it to divorce, or any bad breakup, no contact with parents, something within that realm, where the person you once promised to have, hold, and googly-eye (or admit being related to, etc. …) until death do you part is still walking around.
The nerve!
Like a zombie.
And believe me, they (or you) will twist into a million different knots to avoid acknowledgment. A cold shoulder and dead look ahead, not even a flutter of the lashes, during a run-in at a store or at the BMV becomes the most shocking, bitter pill to ever swallow.
Our leaders need the same fate.
They. No. Longer. Exist.
Only then will the right people step up to the role, and those who would otherwise take it for nothing more than grift, greed, accolades, or whatever they seek to fill that dead, greedy heart won’t dare. All of them no longer worthy of so much as a smidge of our attention.
Why?
Because we deserve far better.
What do you think?
Until next time, my friends—take your breaks, chase a sidequest or two, breathe, and be ready to lead with a little whimsy.
Beth aka The Pushing Ink
Now for some humor
About me
I’ve been fascinated by the broken world of work (and other random hot topics) for as long as I can remember. My first job was at 12, delivering newspapers—an early lesson in unpredictability, absurdity, and the occasional human weirdness. Since then, it’s been one head-scratching employment adventure after another.
I initially went back to school late-ish to become a divorce counselor, but life nudged me toward what actually excites me: poking at the quirks, snobbery, and chaos of work itself. I earned a bachelor’s in Applied Psychology (work psych) in 2014 and a master’s in Organizational Leadership in 2018.
I’ve spent decades bouncing in and out of newspapers (city beats, courtrooms, the whole nine yards) and wandering through the nonprofit world’s strange corridors. Now, with Pushing Ink (a former newspaper column turned passion project), I write about leadership, people-pleasing and the tyranny of niceness, pop culture, humor, the occasional absurd sidequest and more.
Still very much a work-in-progress like myself, you can find me online under The Pushing Ink on YouTube and other social channels (minus the former bird app), where I keep experimenting with whimsy, insights, and chaos.