“Have you ever started a new job, looked at your manager, and thought, ‘How the actual hell? How did this clown get this position?’”
I’ve asked myself this countless times over the years, baffled by who I’m being told to respect solely because of their title or paycheck. In today’s age of “authenticity” and deepening division, it’s harder than ever to identify what real leadership looks like — and why we keep hoping it will be something different.
Growing up, I learned that effective leadership involves charisma, thoughtfulness, and responsibility. Those in charge, especially Presidents, CEOs, owners, etc. were expected to have high emotional intelligence and condemn hate even toward people who disliked them. A leader’s role wasn’t just to wield power but to protect, uplift, and embody a certain moral authority.
These qualities are not just irrelevant — they might be liabilities for anyone trying to win public office. Instead of aspirational figures, we’re electing leaders who rely on divisiveness and make no apologies, leaving us to wonder why do we reward the behaviors that erode public trust. When I began voting, I carried these expectations — assessing candidates and bosses’ capacity for leadership.
I’ve been an Independent voter for twenty years; single-issue voting or blind allegiance to a two party system has always given me grave anxiety.
Some Democrats and Republicans are invested in concealing the ‘true agenda’ and willing to say what needs to be said to obtain power. Voting for either party can feel like falling for a performance meant to keep us engaged — like believing a stripper likes you (spoiler: they don’t — they’re tired, want to go home, and think you smell).
I’ve valued candidates who are able to unify and make tough decisions when a crisis hits their desk. But in 2024, we urgently need to ask what is leadership and what do we expect.
We must question whether we’re asking the relevant things of our leaders — or to just be honest that we will reward anyone who effectively plays to our bias and perspective.
Perhaps the public has the disease, and the candidate is the symptom.
As a second and third-grader, the President of the United States was a figure of awe — a moral and strategic guide for the country. If your pastor was a leader, a police officer was to serve and protect, and the President of the United States was at the top of the top.
People like Bill Clinton and George W. Bush were portrayed as people who could navigate crises, inspire us, and represent and articulate the best of America. But even back then, cracks in the myth were visible. Scandals, wars based on shaky intelligence, and moments of gross misconduct showed how fragile our faith in leaders could be.
American leadership was aspirational and American history is portrayed as aspirational. This myth of possibility, this delusion of aspiration, keeps people invested in the political system, believing that if we kept participating, maybe the country would live up to its promises. Maybe the American dream applies to us. Maybe we are making progress with reproductive rights, racism, homophobia, policing, corporate greed, and all the recurring themes that never seem to resolve.
And what’s even more wild to think about, is that United States has successfully elected Barack Obama twice, and Hilary Clinton did, in fact, win the popular vote in 2016.
Trump’s second election has revealed an important truth, and we’re left facing a stark reckoning. His return is a mirror held up to the nation, forcing us to confront how far we’ve strayed from the ideals we once claimed to value and to reevaluate what the public wants.
Neither party is immune to damaging decisions; both rely on carefully crafted images, often at odds with their public persona. Even intelligent and master communicators like Barack Obama have made many eyebrow-raising policy decisions related to immigration and deportation, which I could argue that some will overlook in order to preserve his position as the first mixed African American President.
The results of the 2024 election left me wondering if we, as a society, have become like bobbleheads on a dashboard. Some say they want leaders with integrity and experience who can “keep the car on the road.” But then we hand the wheel back to the guy who treats red lights like suggestions and keeps nodding along as he floors it over a cliff.
In 2016, it was easy to see Donald Trump’s rise as a one-off reaction, a backlash to the status quo. But in 2024, despite facing legal battles and felony charges, he emerged as the preferred, victorious candidate because he makes his supporters feel good.
We must stop raising kids to believe that hard work, loyalty, and adherence to tradition will automatically lead to success or fair representation. It’s time to be more honest about the complexity and reality that black and other people of color, women, and queer folks face one-sided expectations.
Many Americans view him as a “truth-teller” who “speaks his mind.” And this election wasn’t so different from the hiring processes I’d seen play out in corporate America, where the most qualified candidates (yes, sometimes me) don’t get the job; instead, it’s the ones who fit the culture, tell the flashiest story, or stroke the boss’s ego (or something else), and sometimes the looney tune character. Trump is the ultimate corporate hire — the staff member everyone gossips about in the lunchroom, wondering why he’s here.
But this isn’t corporate America. This isn’t a bad boss who only threatens quarterly bonuses; we’re talking about someone with significant influence over the civil rights, economic stability, and well-being of 300 million people.
In today’s political landscape, “authenticity” has become the buzzword that often replaces genuine integrity or competence. But what does authenticity even mean in this context? Ideally, it would mean leaders who are transparent about their flaws and honest in their intentions. But more often, “authenticity” seems to celebrate brashness and shock value — rewarding leaders who “speak their mind” without regard for accuracy, empathy, or basic decency. Specifically, “authenticity” seems to mean, who can say the mean thing out loud with their full chest.
Take Donald Trump. In what dimension could someone simulate oral sex on a microphone, rave about another man’s genitalia, be convicted of felonies, infidelity, and s*x abuse, mock a disabled person — and not only survive politically but thrive?
Society cancels Colin Kaepernick for taking a knee to protest racial injustice yet elevates Donald Trump because he makes his supporters feel good. It seems the masses have erased the line between entertainment and responsibility.
Everything in me still wants to advocate for someone who is measured, responsible, and, yes, politically accurate or at least cunning. Yet, in today’s environment, aspirational leadership won’t necessarily win elections.
In a recent TikTok video, one voter explained she was willing to look past Trump’s rhetoric and personality because she believed he could successfully end the war in Palestine. Although this is just one example, it underscores a more significant trend: We’re replacing traditional leadership standards with issue-specific votes driven by policy stances rather than character. In some cases, the facts and information don’t matter.
As a Black bisexual man in the U.S., I don’t have the same freedom to “be myself” in professional spaces, and what I stand for must also be perceived as honorable and palatable. For leaders from “marginalized backgrounds,” authenticity isn’t really an option— it usually feels dangerous and invites intense scrutiny, judgment, or worse. The only option is to chameleonize, carefully monitoring who sees which parts of us , and if they believe it.
This double standard — rooted in bias around wealth, whiteness, and class — dictates who’s allowed to be ‘authentic’ and who must fulfill a sanitized version of themselves to participate. While Trump can embrace brash authenticity and mis- and half- information as a political strategy, leaders like Kamala Harris are penalized for doing the same. The freedom to ‘let it all hang out’ must always be counteracted with some higher standard.
If authenticity is the gold standard for leadership, are we ready to accept it from everyone or only from those who fit a certain mold? Is it reserved only for Trump?
Leadership 2.0, as I envision it, requires a blend of authenticity and responsibility. It’s about leaders willing to step outside traditional molds but remain committed to empathy and thoughtful decision-making. Leadership 2.0 is less sterile and doesn’t rely on toxic positivity.
We shouldn’t assume that Leader 2.0 means we can cuss out people at rallies, flaunt our vices, or even promote our biases publicly through the media. Instead, we need to focus on understanding the needs of our constituents, employees, and followers and evaluate whether those needs align with our own.
The good news is that it doesn’t have to be aspirational or perfect. Let Donald Trump’s 2nd presidency reveal that, but where’s the line?
What is too far, and from whom?
If facts and professionalism no longer matter, what matters?
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Previously Published on Medium
featured image: Mobilus In Mobili on Flickr under CC License
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Mobilus In Mobili on Flickr under CC License
This post was originally published on here
