I always end the year by writing about my accomplishments, failures, regrets, and resolutions. I love this time of year because the calendar naturally motivates me to reflect and act. This post is about 2024 regrets because I said I was done writing about failure last year.
In my last post, I told you my biggest accomplishment this year was having no significant accomplishments. Sure, I ran some races and took a few craft classes. But I didn’t light the world on fire.
Personally, it was great. Professionally, it was challenging to step back and read all the stupid ideas about fixing the world of work. All year, I kept hearing my friend William Tincup’s words: When you step back, the industry lacks leadership. People say stupid shit and think it’s gold. No one counterbalances the bullshit.
He’s right. And that’s why he can have my kidney if he needs it.
So, if I have regrets, they’re about letting the noise slide—on both sides.
When someone says, “people-first organizations outperform financially,” I want to scream: name three. Seriously, name three companies with real autonomy, equal pay, no heavy-handed management, reined-in CEO compensation, and policies that protect rights while not trashing the planet. You can’t. Trust me, you can’t.
The reality? Capitalism is profit-first. “People programs” are designed to keep workers afloat but don’t fix the systemic cracks. Without universal basic income or an actual safety net, workers drown. That’s the ugly truth. And the worst part? Other countries are starting to copy our broken model.
On the flip side, lazy narratives about workers being unproductive fuel the RTO debate that refuses to die. And the rebranding and dissembling of DEIB? Don’t even get me started.
If I’m not in the game, I can’t fix it. But being in the game leaves me drained because I still can’t fix it. Sometimes, I can barely fix dinner.
But I regret that burnout made me look away instead of calling out the garbage on LinkedIn and in mainstream media. I regret running through the woods and learning how to arrange flowers instead of responding to “AI thought leaders” who think stringing buzzwords together makes them insightful. I regret not climbing back on stage to counter the bad ideas with smarter ones.
Most of all, I regret not mentoring the next generation. As someone who helped build this digital HR and work community, it’s my responsibility to guide, challenge, and uplift. But I’ve been quiet, ignoring messages from people who need advice, never reaching out to amplify someone’s work. I let the stupid stuff win.
That’s on me.
When I started writing, it was because the world of work was so dumb, so absurd, that I couldn’t look away. I felt compelled to say something—even when my ideas were messy or raw—because nobody else was being honest. I told the older crowd: If you could’ve fixed it, you would’ve done it by now.
Now, I’m the one on the sidelines, watching the same cycle repeat. Maybe it’s time to let go. Let the bad ideas run their course. Let someone else feel that spark of outrage and do the work I can’t seem to do anymore. Maybe they’ll do it better.
I hope they do.