Do We Still Know What Integrity Means?
I’ve been thinking a lot about integrity lately.
Because what I keep seeing in our profession, and honestly, in the world, has me asking: do we even know what integrity means?
People call each other out publicly but refuse to have an actual conversation. Colleagues claim to champion mental health but then publicly (and privately) chastise others for sport, leaving real human beings questioning their own worth. I’ve seen people weaponize someone’s struggles for personal gain. I’ve seen people declare “we care about our people” while their actions scream the opposite.
That isn’t integrity.
Integrity is not performative. It doesn’t live in a LinkedIn post or a conference hall keynote. It lives in what we choose to do when no one is watching, or when everyone is watching, but it would be easier to stay silent.
Integrity has to look like something.
It looks like admitting when you got it wrong and making it right. It looks like the company that changed their job ad after I called out how harmful it was to our profession.
Integrity looks like standing by someone when others are quick to tear them down. It looks like the people who stood up for, and stood with me, when I was being threatened, while others stayed silent. That’s the difference between performative words and real action: who you are when it’s inconvenient.
It looks like refusing to use someone’s pain as a weapon to elevate yourself.
It looks like being as consistent in private as you are in public.
It looks like not needing a reminder to check in with your people. If someone on your team is struggling, integrity is stepping up without waiting for HR to tell you or a calendar invite to nudge you. Integrity is simply… be a good person.
And look, I’m not perfect. I don’t get it right 100% of the time. None of us do. But integrity is having the courage to admit when you’re wrong, to apologize, and to do better next time. And here’s the thing: apologies don’t always have to be public. Integrity is about the day-in, day-out choices you make. The ones no one needs to see.
When someone tells you they were hurt by words or actions, integrity is not asking them to relive it for your benefit. Integrity is not dragging the source of their pain back into the spotlight. Integrity is listening, believing them, and doing the quiet work of being better.
And integrity definitely isn’t saying you value inclusion and care about mental health in public, while behind closed doors reducing DEI and representation to “optics” or “audience appeal.” Integrity is showing empathy when someone is vulnerable about how something impacted them. It’s not stirring the pot with performative instigation to score points.
I saw a story about a social media influencer who pulled out their phone to film when a friend bought a blanket for a homeless man because it was “prime content.” That’s not integrity. Integrity is buying the blanket without the cameras rolling. Doing it because it’s the right thing and most definitely not because it’ll get you "likes."
The reality:
Without integrity, everything else crumbles. Our words lose meaning. Our culture fractures. Our teams stop trusting. And once trust is gone, good luck leading.
We can’t fix everything about politics or public discourse, but we can control our own house. We can be leaders who:
Call people in, not just call them out.
Hold accountability with compassion.
Match our words with actions, even when it costs us.
Put people before personal gain.
Care enough to check in without being told.
Own our mistakes and make them right.
Do the right thing without needing an audience.
Integrity isn’t easy. But without it, nothing we build will last.
So maybe the better question isn’t “do we still have integrity?” It’s: are we willing to do the hard work to live it?