Fix the culture, Julian pleaded. Tell me who is lying and who is leaving.
One Tuesday afternoon, a panicked executive named Julian sat across from him. Julian’s company was hemorrhaging talent, and he couldn't understand why. He handed Aris a stack of internal memos and transcripts from recent board meetings. The Secret Life of Pronouns: What Our Words Say...
The most chilling discovery, however, lay in the emails of the Chief Financial Officer. The CFO’s writing was devoid of the word "I." It was all passive voice and third-party references. The funds were allocated. The decision was made. Fix the culture, Julian pleaded
Aris didn't look at the complaints or the project updates. He ran the text through his software, stripping away the jargon. He was looking for the fingerprints of the psyche: function words. Julian’s company was hemorrhaging talent, and he couldn't
In Julian’s transcripts, "we" was almost always followed by a demand. We need to hit these numbers. We must work harder. Aris called this the "Imperial We." It wasn't a sign of togetherness; it was a tool for diffusing accountability. By using "we," Julian was subtly shifting his own responsibilities onto a faceless collective.