Fair enough. I didn’t include my name, but I’m certainly not hiding behind an anonymous post because I’m afraid to stand behind what I said. I’d genuinely love for someone to reach out. Drop a phone number or email address here, and I’ll gladly make the call. I’m serious about that. But I want to take this conversation a little further because I think some of the responses actually reinforce the very problem I’m talking about.
I keep hearing, “They know. They just don’t care.” And I have to ask, how do you know they know? Have you ever stopped to consider that the information making its way to the executive level may not accurately reflect what’s happening throughout this business?
I can tell you from firsthand experience that it doesn’t always.
I’m asked regularly to share the numbers that make us look good. Think about that for a minute. If we’re only showcasing the wins, highlighting the positive metrics and carefully packaging the story before it reaches the next level, what exactly do we expect executives to see? The reality? Or the version of reality we’ve decided they’re allowed to see?
There is an enormous difference.
Local leadership has a responsibility to communicate the truth, not just the numbers that support a narrative. When bad news gets softened, operational failures get minimized, and uncomfortable conversations never make it beyond a certain level, executives are making decisions based on incomplete information. And the higher you go, the further removed you can become from the people and customers experiencing the consequences of those decisions.
That’s not necessarily because every executive is a bad person or doesn’t care. Sometimes it’s because the people between them and the front line have created a filter. And sometimes those people are so invested in protecting their own departments, decisions or reputations that they don’t recognize how much damage that filter is causing.
I also think there’s a difference between being intellectually intelligent and being emotionally intelligent. We have some incredibly smart business people in this organization. But being educated, understanding financial statements and knowing how to run a business doesn’t automatically give someone common sense, perspective, empathy or the ability to recognize what’s happening right in front of them. Leadership requires both.
And here’s something else I want people to consider. Just because someone is making a tremendous amount of money doesn’t mean they are automatically comfortable with how that money is being made or indifferent to the consequences. I’ve grown up around considerable wealth and successful business people. I can tell you that money doesn’t mean everyone loses their conscience. There are people who genuinely care about how they build something, how they treat people and what kind of organization they’re leaving behind.
I’m not suggesting every executive thinks that way. I’m suggesting we stop assuming they all think the same way.
What I find particularly discouraging is how quickly people dismiss even the possibility of trying. If you genuinely believe this company is beyond saving, that every person at the top is self-serving, that nobody cares, and that absolutely nothing can be done, then why stay? There are plenty of companies that pay comparable salaries, and some that pay more. If you truly believe there’s no future here, perhaps moving on is the right decision for you. Nobody is forcing anyone to stay.
But not everyone has given up. Some of us have decades invested in this company. We’ve seen what it was, what it became, and what it still has the potential to be. We have experience, knowledge and ideas that shouldn’t be dismissed simply because we’re frustrated with the current state of the business.
And honestly, I think we’ve reached a point where negativity has become almost a badge of honor. The more cynical you are, the more realistic people assume you are. Anyone who expresses hope or suggests change is immediately labeled naive.
I disagree with that.
Being realistic doesn’t mean being defeated. Being angry doesn’t mean you have to stop looking for solutions. And having faith in people doesn’t mean you don’t understand business, money or corporate politics.
I’m angry, too. I’m frustrated with what I’ve watched happen to a company I genuinely loved working for. I’m not blind to the financial motivations, the decisions that have hurt employees or the possibility that I could eventually be impacted by layoffs myself. I understand all of that.
But I’m not ready to throw my hands up and declare that the people running this company are incapable of listening, learning or changing.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe nobody will ever reach out. Maybe the people at the top really have heard everything and have no interest in doing anything differently.
But what if we’re wrong about them? What if the story reaching them isn’t the whole story? What if there are executives who would actually want to know that employees are being asked to present a version of the business that doesn’t reflect reality? What if someone at the top would appreciate hearing from people who understand the business beyond a spreadsheet or a quarterly report?
Why wouldn’t we at least give that possibility a chance?
I’m not looking for sympathy, and I’m certainly not looking to convince anyone to love Comcast. I’m asking people not to confuse giving up with being realistic.
I want to be part of the conversation that focuses on what we can do differently, not another conversation about why nothing can ever get better.
There are still people here who care. There are still people with tremendous experience and valuable ideas. Give those people a seat at the table.
And if someone from Brian’s team is reading this, my offer stands. I’m happy to have that conversation. No politics, no rehearsed talking points, no polished presentation. Just an honest conversation about what’s happening, what isn’t working and what I believe we can do better.
Hope isn't the absence of reality. It's the belief that reality doesn't have to remain the same.