The Caretaker Conundrum

I wasn’t feeling well.

My forehead was feverish. My knees were weak, and chills cascaded up and down my spine.

I knew the protocol. I’d need to take some Tylenol and rest. My parents would take care of me while I recovered.

Only, they wouldn’t. Not this time.

For I was a freshman in college, a thousand miles away from my home. No one was hopping on a flight to help me get back to health. I would need to take that task on myself.

As this sank in, I felt terrified.

How the heck would I take care of myself in this delicate state? And what if I couldn’t?

Fear gave way to instinct. I wasn’t going to get any better standing around in my dorm room. So, I lay down, pulled the covers over me, and dozed off.

I woke up with a clear mind, if not a clean bill of health. And with this fresh start, I was able to do what it took to recover. By the next day, I was right as rain.

This experience was transformative. I had learned how to care for myself at a point of vulnerability. And life would never be the same.


Well-being.

This term has exploded in popularity in recent years.

Getting to live another day is no longer the objective. Living in a healthy, sustained manner now is.

This thinking has helped grow lifestyle brands, expand the wellness industry, and proliferate demands for work-life balance.

All these innovations have their benefits, but they come with a dangerous assumption. Namely, that others will be our caretakers.

You see, that existential crisis I faced while I was ill in college — it’s hardly a novel one. We all yearn for TLC when we’re at our weakest. And when there’s none to be had, we can feel rattled.

Still, we persevere. Tossed into the deep end without support, we’re forced to care for ourselves. And we learn from the experience — just as I did.

But while some view this moment as a point of no return, others will yearn to recreate what was lost. They’ll look to build a caretaking ecosystem, so that they never find themselves out in the cold again.

And in doing so, they’ll set out on a road to nowhere.


The professional world looks far different today than it did generations ago.

The Internet has transformed the way we do business. Tasks that were previously handled on-site can now be done remotely. And employee turnover is the rule, not the exception.

This last development has led to a lot of hand wringing.

High turnover is a challenge for companies. While Henry Ford’s assembly line model rendered workers as interchangeable, the business world is far more complicated now. Change management is a constant headwind that business must contend with.

In a fit of frustration, some corporate leaders have yearned for the good old days, when employees would stick with a company for 40 years before retiring with a gold watch and a pension. These managers believe that the workforce was loyal back then, and they pine for a return to that stability.

Some employees share this sentiment with the C-Suite. Moving from company to company can take a heavy toll. It’s much simpler to daydream of an era when an employer would take care of you for the duration of your career. That loyalty would be much appreciated in the unpredictable modern era.

Of course, the good old days are long gone. And these desires to recreate it read like revisionist history.

The perceived stability of the bygone generation of work reflected on the era itself. Sure, the Cold War was going on. But it was much easier for companies to get a good read on the market in those days, making decisions that sidestepped turbulence along the way. Bailing on such a smooth ride would be foolish, so relatively few employees did it.

Caretaking didn’t factor into the conversation much, if at all. Companies cared about the three P’s — productivity, profitability, and potential — more than anything else. A stable workforce helped companies achieve those goals faster. But if the waters did happen to get choppy, and employees headed for the exits, companies would simply backfill the open roles.

Henry Ford’s interchangeable workers philosophy was still alive and well.


Goldilocks and the Three Bears. It’s a childhood classic.

In the fairy tale, a girl with golden hair wanders into the lair of a family of bears while they’re away. She methodically tests out everything in the house before determining what bowl of porridge to eat, and what bed to lie down on.

This step-by-step deliberation has gained wide adoption in the real world. In fact, the Goldilocks Principle is now a staple of psychology to economics.

We are all searching for just the right fit — in our business projects, in our academic exploits, and in life in general.

The Goldilocks Principle has a hand in the world of work as well. It’s what’s driven many of us to move from job to job unlike ever before.

We are looking for the right fit and balance in our professional exploits. Each twist on our journey serves as a data point — a guardrail that can help funnel us to our own nirvana.

There’s nothing wrong with any of this. But if we expect caretaking to be part of this fit and balance equation, we’re sure to be disappointed.

Employers have a more nuanced view these days than they did in the pension and gold watch ones. There’s an increased — and overdue — focus on diversity, equity, and inclusion in the working world. And such concepts as company culture and employee benefits have gone from perks to must-haves.

But make no mistake — the companies we work for are not going to serve as our caretakers. At the end of the day, it’s still all about the three P’s. And a more open relationship with employees is simply a means to an end.

It’s on us to recognize this. And it’s on us to adjust our expectations.

No one is going to unconditionally take care of us the way our parents once did. Not our employers. Not the wellness industry. Not our government. Not even our loved ones.

These people and entities will help. They’ll provide the tools to get us back to full-strength.

But it’s our responsibility to apply those tools. It’s on us to launch ourselves across the finish line.

This might not be what we desire, particularly when we’re at our most vulnerable. But it’s the hand we’re dealt.

So, let’s not fold. Let’s play our hand, and stay in the game.

Our prosperity depends on it.

Our Double Standard

Few concepts are as taboo as that of the double standard.

Hypocrites in our society might as well wear a scarlet letter. They’ve broken the cardinal rule.

After all, there’s a reason why phrases like Say what you mean, mean what you say or Talk the talk, walk the walk are gospel. We strive to be treated with honesty and respect, and we don’t like having our time wasted with lies and deception.

In an inherently unfair world, these unwritten rules are the closest thing to a pact we’ve got.

So, we might as well continue our credo, right? We might as well eradicate any semblance of double standards that remain?

Not exactly.

I’m actually a proponent of double standards, when it comes to the bar we set for ourselves. That’s the level of excellence we strive to meet as a person, an intellectual and a member of society.

I believe we should set that bar higher for ourselves than our friends, family and loved ones. That we should always demand a higher level of excellence of ourselves while not being too demanding on others.

It creates a chasm of hypocrisy, sure. But a worthwhile one at that.

You see, if we were to raise the bar of expectations for everyone in our circle, we would run the risk of pushing them away. We’d likely come off as cold and demanding — two terms that are not exactly conducive for social interaction.

We don’t make friends, associate with family members or fall in love with our soulmate in order to demand more out of them. No, we interact with these people so that we can just be. We strive to soak up life’s moments with them, rather than asking more of them at all times.

We might not agree with everything those in our circle say or do. But for the most part, we understand that they’re fine the way they are; that’s what drew us to associate with them in the first place.

When it comes to ourselves though, change is always needed. We can always do more to fix our flaws, expand our knowledge base and improve our relationship with those we care about. Taking the view that we’re fine the way we are is dangerous, as it short circuits this mission.

So, we’re obligated to set the bar higher for ourselves. And when we reach that bar, we’re obligated to set it even higher — or else we risk getting stuck in the mud.

This all sets up a new kind of double standard — on built on honesty and truth. We’re staying true to ourselves by demanding continually increasing excellence, and staying true to the members our circle by not forgetting what it is that brought them into the fold.

There’s a balance in this setup, one between changing and maintaining. A balance worth standing behind.

So, let’s pursue this double standard in lieu of the others. It’s a win-win.

Adapting Our Expectations

Another Super Bowl has come and gone.

Our biggest sporting and television spectacle brings its quirks with it — commercials people actually pay attention to, a halftime concert featuring a bizarre mix of artists, political statements and semi-elaborate sets, and a hefty amount of overindulgence. It also brings us some memorable moments, and a newly minted National Football League champion.

The NFL’s Most Valuable Player, Cam Newton, was not that champion this year. But after the confetti rained down and the Vince Lombardi Trophy was raised up by his opponents — the Denver Broncos — he became one of the game’s memorable moments.

Meeting with the hordes of media — as is his obligation after the game — Newton looked morose. So often bold and outspoken, the 6’5” quarterback seemed to be hiding under his Carolina Panthers hoodie, quietly giving one or two word answers before storming off.

It was not what anyone was looking for from the new face of football. Even in his early days in the league, when struggles and frustration were commonplace, Newton spoke candidly about his need for self improvement. Now, on the game’s biggest stage, Cam let his emotions get the best of him. And he got roasted for it.

I don’t believe that’s right.

It’s easy for the media to demonize those who don’t play by their rules or expectations. I know this innately, because I used to be in the media. But what I don’t know is what it feels like to fail in front of 115 million people and then candidly answer tough questions about how I’ve failed.

I can’t imagine how brutal that would feel — even though I have a folder in my inbox filled with 150 job rejection emails I received three years ago during my career transition. I was out of work for 3 months back then, living week by week in a hotel in a strange city, with no friends nearby to keep my spirits up and job rejection after job rejection eating into my soul as my savings were slowly depleted.

Needless to say, it was a low and frustrating time for me — but I didn’t have to answer pointed questions about it in full view of half the country.

Think about it. We all have times where we felt like that, where we wanted to be left alone. So did Cam. But he couldn’t be left alone, so he did what he could to power through the situation and move on. And he damn sure did a better job than I would have done in that situation.

It’s time we adapt our expectations. Not everyone can be like Newton’s Super Bowl opponent, Peyton Manning — who, after a brutal double overtime playoff loss in 2013, answered every question thrown his way before quietly going to the opponent’s locker room to congratulate Ray Lewis (who would retire after winning the Super Bowl weeks later). That’s the standard the media sets, but it really should be considered above and beyond.

Cam Newton is an amazing talent, a phenomenal athlete and a heck of a football player. He’s a leader, an inspiration and, by all accounts, a great person. He’s brash and flamboyant, but also strong and determined. He’s the face of football for years to come.

We caught him at his lowest in the aftermath of Super Bowl 50. He’ll learn from it, he’ll adapt and he’ll grow.

When it comes to our expectations, it’s high time we did too.