Leadership Personal Politics Work

One Voice: Why I’m Writing About Leadership and Politics on the Same Blog

“In a time of deceit telling the truth is a revolutionary act.”
— George Orwell


In some circles, there’s a persistent bit of advice: “Keep your professional and political identities separate.” It’s tidy, marketable, and, frankly, safer. But I’ve chosen not to follow it.

You’ll find technical leadership posts here—deep dives on managing remote teams, reflections on human-centered leadership, the occasional think-aloud on the future of work. But you’ll also find political commentary. Not hot takes or outrage bait, but thoughtful, values-driven posts on issues that matter to me as a citizen, a parent, and yes, as a leader.

I’ve been asked why I mix these things, and the answer is simple: I don’t see them as separate.

The person I am in a staff meeting is the same person who shows up at the ballot box, who reads history late at night, who teaches his kids how to question what they’re told, and who writes here. At work, I might be a little quieter about it—but that’s not concealment. It’s discretion, shaped by the role I hold and the people I serve.

Leadership comes with a certain reticence. You don’t light fires just to watch them burn. You model calm so your team feels safe. But that doesn’t mean I believe in silence or self-censorship. Mr. Darcy—yes, that Mr. Darcy—once said, “Disguise of every sort is my abhorrence.” I feel that in my bones. Artifice might sell, but it doesn’t serve.

Here’s the deeper truth: I believe refusing to separate these aspects of myself is the most moral and ethical stance I can take. To act otherwise would be to imply that our public responsibilities don’t touch our professional choices. That the systems we work within are somehow value-neutral. They aren’t.

Technology is not apolitical. Hiring, retention, automation, surveillance, equity—these aren’t “just business” decisions. They shape lives. They reflect what we stand for. If I were to write about leadership while pretending these forces weren’t in play, I’d be sanitizing reality in a way that feels dishonest.

As a leader, I set tone and culture. If I want psychological safety, trust, and integrity on my teams, I have to model those things myself—even when it’s uncomfortable. And that includes making it clear that my decisions are informed by a set of values that don’t stop at the office door.

I also recognize the privilege I have in being able to speak openly. Many people can’t. They risk jobs, reputations, or even their physical safety. If I can speak, and I don’t—what does that say about the kind of leader I am? Silence, in the face of injustice, isn’t neutrality. It’s complicity.

So, I’ll keep writing both. If you’re here for technical insights, you’ll get them. If you’re here to read thoughtful takes on policy, history, or civic responsibility, those are here too. And if you’re here for both—welcome. You’re exactly who I’m writing for.

-Roger