When Did Bullying become a Leadership Style?

When Did Bullying Become Acceptable?

From the schoolyard to the Senate floor, bullying has evolved — not into something better, but into something more dangerous: normalized. Somehow, over the past decade, cruelty has become a leadership strategy. Intimidation is passed off as confidence. Public shaming is packaged as “tough love.” And in a world oversaturated with likes, comments, and hot takes, we’ve become desensitized to the real consequences of this behavior.

I’ve lived it at every stage of my life.
As a child, I was called names, shoved, excluded — all for being a little different. Too expressive. Too sensitive. Too “something.” I didn’t have the language yet to say “I’m gay,” but the world around me seemed to know I was different — and they tried to push me down because of it.

So I coped the only way I knew how: I tried to be perfect. The best grades. The best behavior. I became “the Best Little Boy,” hoping that excellence could act as armor. It worked, sort of. But the truth is, the weight of people-pleasing and perfectionism is just another form of quiet suffering.

As I entered corporate America, I was shocked — and then not shocked at all — to find those same bullies in corner offices and boardrooms. Their tactics had just changed clothes. Instead of name-calling, there was exclusion. Instead of shoving, there was sabotage. And instead of standing up for one another, most people stayed silent.

Why? Because bullying works in the short term. It creates fear. It enforces control. But what it never, ever creates is loyalty, innovation, or true leadership.

We are now living through a moment in American and global culture where bullying is no longer in the shadows. It’s a central part of our political rhetoric, our social media culture, and — sadly — some of our corporate environments. The consequences are devastating: skyrocketing anxiety and depression, burnout, disconnection, and tragically, rising suicide rates among young people, especially LGBTQ+ youth.

As someone who’s spent decades in leadership — and who has made mistakes, learned hard lessons, and led teams through crises and transformation — I can say this with certainty: Kindness is not weakness. It is courage in its purest form.

This is why I created Radical Kindness — not just as a philosophy, but as a call to arms. Because in a world that rewards domination, kindness is resistance. Empathy is disruption. Listening is leadership.

Here’s what we can all do:

• Speak up: When bullying happens — in a meeting, online, in your workplace or community — say something. Silence fuels cruelty.

• Model better behavior: Praise collaboration, not competition. Celebrate humility. Make space for every voice.

• Check in: Ask how your team is really doing. Ask how your kids are feeling. Then listen — really listen — to their answers.

• Hold leaders accountable: Whether they’re in business, education, or government, demand more. Demand better.

• Start with yourself: Notice when you're tempted to use shame, sarcasm, or power-over tactics. Ask why — and choose differently.

I believe we are all capable of change. But we have to choose it, actively and consistently. We have to call out the bullying we see and root out the bullying we’ve internalized. It’s not about being nice for the sake of optics. It’s about creating cultures — in families, in classrooms, in boardrooms, and in legislatures — where people can thrive, not just survive.

Radical kindness is not a soft skill. It’s a leadership superpower.

And the world needs more of it, NOW!