A couple of years ago, I threw HR under the bus.
I was leading a major project that had consumed months of our lives, including more weekends than I care to remember. When we finally went live it was a major success. I decided to throw a big celebration for the team.
The team was a mix of full time employees and contractors. These folks had been in the trenches together, and as far as I was concerned, everyone deserved to celebrate.
Then HR said we couldn't invite the contractors.
There were legitimate employment rules involved. It's called co-employment, and essentially, treating contractors too much like employees can create legal risks for the company.
Now for the embarrassing part. At the time, I was responsible for contract labor globally. I knew those rules inside and out. In fact, I had personally explained them to other leaders more times than I could count.
But when it affected my team, suddenly the rules seemed unreasonable.
I pushed back. HR held firm. And when it came time to tell the contractors, I made sure they knew I had fought for them.
"I tried, but HR said we can't."
Just like that, I was the good guy, and HR was the bad guy.
The Good Guy
Technically, I wasn't lying. HR had said no, and I really had pushed back. But I conveniently left out the part where I understood exactly why they said no. I wanted those contractors to know I valued their contributions. I wanted them to see that I was on their side. I thought by telling them how hard I had tried, I could make sure they knew I wasn't responsible for disappointing them.
Looking back, I can see how easily I justified it. I told myself I was protecting the relationship. And to some extent, I genuinely wanted to protect their feelings.
But I was also protecting how they saw me.
I didn't want to be the person delivering the bad news. I wanted credit for fighting the decision without having to take responsibility for explaining it.
I think this is where a lot of leaders get caught. You care about your people. You want them to see you as someone who's looking out for them. But sometimes that desire to be the good guy becomes a convenient excuse to avoid the conversations you'd rather not have.
The Conversation You're Avoiding
Think about the manager who tells an employee they can't attend a training program because finance won't approve the budget.
Maybe the manager really did try. Maybe they went back and forth with finance and argued for the employee. And when the answer was still no, they made sure the employee knew how hard they'd fought.
"Believe me, I tried. Finance just won't approve it."
The manager gets to be supportive. Finance gets to be unreasonable. Nobody has to have the harder conversation about why the training isn't being approved.
Or think about the leader who disagrees with a decision made by senior management. When the team gets upset, the leader joins in.
"I know. I don't agree with it either. But that's what they decided."
I've seen versions of these conversations over and over. I've participated in them myself.
And if you're a parent, you probably recognize this behavior too.
"Your dad said no."
"Your mom won't let you."
Sometimes you say those things because they're true. Other times, you're just happy to have someone else to blame.
It's tempting because it works, at least in the moment. You avoid being the bad guy. The other person feels like you're on their side.
But the difficult conversation still hasn't happened. The person still doesn't understand the decision, and you've missed an opportunity to be honest with someone who was counting on you to lead.
You Can Disagree and Still Own It
One of the realities of leadership is that you won't agree with every decision made by your organization. I've challenged plenty of decisions over the years. I believe leaders have a responsibility to speak up when something doesn't make sense.
But once you've made your case and the decision is final, you also have a responsibility to stand behind it and communicate it honestly.
You can acknowledge someone's disappointment without making another person the villain. You can explain why a decision was made even when you would have preferred a different outcome.
In my case, I could have told those contractors, "I really wanted everyone at this celebration, and I pushed back because you've earned it. But when companies treat contractors like employees, it creates a legal risk for the company. That's why contractors can't be included in company events. I understand why the rule exists, even though I'm disappointed we can't include you."
Same answer. Very different conversation.
They still wouldn't have been invited. They probably still would have been disappointed. But at least I would have respected them enough to explain the decision instead of handing them someone else to blame.
In trying so hard to protect the relationship, you may be doing the very thing that weakens it.
Whose Name Is on It?
Looking back, I don't regret pushing back on HR. I still believe those contractors deserved to be celebrated. What I regret is how I handled the conversation afterward.
I knew better, and I took the easy way out because I wanted to be liked.
The harder conversation would have required me to be honest about the decision, knowing they might still be disappointed with me.
So think about the last difficult conversation you had at work or at home. Whose name did you put on it?
Hit reply and tell me about it. I love hearing from you guys.
Until next Tuesday.
Ceaneh

I spent 25 years leading global teams. One thing I've learned is that even the most capable people can get in their own way.
Today, I coach leaders who are ready to challenge the beliefs and habits keeping them stuck. Let's talk about coaching.
