For years, we’ve argued about whether inclusive leadership works.

The research has quietly moved on.

The real question now is whether leaders understand how inclusion actually works, over time, under pressure, and through people.

Because inclusion doesn’t jump straight from good intentions to great outcomes.

It moves in chains.

And if you can’t see the chain, you keep pulling the wrong lever.

Psychological safety means this: People believe they can speak up, admit mistakes, challenge decisions, or ask for help without paying a personal price.

No punishment. No subtle retaliation. No reputational damage.

And no, it’s not about being “nice” or lowering standards. It’s about whether information moves or gets trapped.

The 2025 research is blunt on this point:

Without psychological safety, inclusion collapses.

I’m publishing Inclusive Leadership Trends for 2026 today.

And I want to be honest about the moment it’s entering.

This is not a calm year for leadership.

Across the U.S., Europe, and beyond, leaders are navigating political volatility, economic pressure, rising polarisation, and very real fear about what comes next. Institutions feel fragile. Trust feels thin. People are tired and sharper, faster decisions are being demanded anyway.

So the question isn’t whether inclusion still matters.

The question is whether our current ideas about inclusion are strong enough to survive reality.

That question is what shaped this year’s report.

I’m about to publish Inclusive Leadership Trends for 2026. And before I do, I want to name something uncomfortable.

Most leaders I work with are genuinely trying to do the right thing. And yet… something still isn’t working.

Frameworks won’t save leadership. But the right ones can make it easier to lead well, especially when the ground keeps shifting under our feet.

This week, I want to talk about inclusive leadership frameworks. Not as theory. Not as slides. But as tools that help real leaders make better decisions, day after day.

Most leaders say they value fairness. Far fewer realise how quickly things fall apart when people stop believing it’s real.

Justice at work isn’t a moral extra. It’s the base layer that determines whether trust, engagement, and innovation ever show up.

Everyone says knowledge is power. But most workplaces treat knowledge like personal property.

This week, I want to talk about what really happens when leaders create environments where people want to share what they know, and why inclusive leadership is the difference between growth and stagnation.

Last week we talked about stress and leadership. This week we’re flipping the spotlight: What happens when teams actually feel good at work?

Short answer? Work gets lighter. People get bolder. And leaders stop dragging culture uphill with their teeth.

Let’s talk about the power of engagement, the warm, messy, human kind.

I’ve spent the past year studying how mental health and inclusive leadership shape performance. And one thing is clear:

Workplace stress isn’t an employee problem. It’s a leadership pattern, and leaders can fix it.

Back in January, I released my annual white paper, Inclusive Leadership Trends for 2025. As I start work on the 2026 edition (coming next month!), I’ve been reflecting on one chapter that sparked a lot of conversations:

“Stress Less, Achieve More.”

Here’s the heart of it.

You know the type.

Crisp shirt. Power stance. Silicon Valley swagger. The kind of guy who thinks he’s being “provocative” when he’s really just being condescending.

Let’s call him Will.

Will flew in from the U.S. to give a keynote about innovation and entrepreneurship in Norway. His big takeaway?

“Norwegians are too nice. Too trusting. That’s why you’ll never succeed.”

And the audience, polite as ever, nodded along.

I nearly fell out of my chair.

Because here’s the thing: no one in the world is looking at America right now and saying, “Wow, I wish we had that level of trust or professionalism.”

I always thought inclusion was the finish line. I celebrated representation. I helped write policies. I ran workshops and campaigns.

And for a while, I could see it working. Doors opened. Conversations changed. The word belonging became a business buzzword.

But somewhere between political backslides, rising extremism, and digital tribalism, something shifted. Now, inclusion feels less like progress and more like a memory.

I believe we are entering a post-inclusion era. And in this era, human rights are starting to look negotiable again.

Okay. Bear with me. If someone is fluent, can do the work, and communicates clearly, why on earth are we still demanding “native language proficiency” in a lot of jobs?

Short answer: we shouldn’t be. In 99% of roles, “native only” isn’t a quality standard, it’s a iron gate.

If you grew up in the post-war West, your idea of a “real man” probably came with a cigarette, a fist, or a stiff drink. John Wayne didn’t cry. James Bond didn’t apologize. Rambo solved every problem with a machine gun.

For a generation of boys who became today’s executives, those were the role models. And we’re still paying the price.

When my business partner, Anne Igeltjørn, invited me to a Taylor Swift album launch party, I hesitated.

Not because I didn’t like Taylor Swift - I do. (Blame Anne for introducing me to Reputation and Midnights.) I hesitated because I wasn’t sure I belonged.

I pictured a sea of glitter, friendship bracelets, and women in their teens and twenties singing every lyric by heart. And then me - a 45-year-old man, clapping on the wrong beat, trying not to look like someone’s confused uncle.

But Anne got me a ticket, and a simple “of course, you should come!” turned into a quiet masterclass in inclusion.

When my business partner Anne Igeltjørn told me she was going to the Taylor Swift launch party for The Life of a Showgirl, I hesitated before asking the question: “Can I come?”

I hesitated because, well, I’m 45. A man. And I wasn’t sure if I’d fit in at an event that, at least from the outside, seemed like it was built for someone else.

But Anne, being Anne, didn’t miss a beat. She’d already called the venue, found an extra ticket, and invited me to join her and her sister. That simple act, “of course, you should come!”, was the first moment I realized this wasn’t just a party. It was a masterclass in inclusion.

Norway’s maritime industry is one of the most innovative in the world. But like so many sectors, it’s still missing out on a big opportunity: women in leadership. Today, women hold around 15% of leadership roles in the industry.

That’s where WISTA Norway’s “40 by 30” pledge comes in.

Here’s something I’ve learned the hard way:

Doing the right thing doesn’t always feel good. It’s not always safe. It’s not always rewarded. But it always matters.

When a man at the top behaves badly, no one is shocked anymore. We shrug. “It’s just another Tuesday.”

Sexual misconduct, bullying, massive layoffs with no warning, romantic relationships with direct reports, fraud, coverups, whistleblower retaliation.

In 2025 alone, Nestlé, Barclays, and JLL Australia all made headlines for CEO behavior that violated ethics, policy or both.

And if you think these are outliers, you haven’t been paying attention.

We’ve all met them. Colleagues who believe in fairness, equality, and doing the right thing, but who get visibly uncomfortable when diversity or inclusion shows up in a workplace context.

They’re not hostile. They’re hesitant. And if you push too hard, too fast, they shut down.

So what do you do? You shut up. So they don’t.

That’s the zinger I use on stage, and it applies here more than ever.

Because these conversations aren’t about convincing enemies. They’re about collaborating with people who are already halfway there, but risk-sensitive. People who need a bridge, not a lecture.

When I asked my mom to write down the top 10 life lessons she wanted me to remember, she gave me 113. Her list is a mix of quotes, memories, and deeply lived values—gathered from books, friends, films, her kids (hi 👋), and the messy, magical process of being human.

In my last article, I explored the first theme that emerged: Joy, Humor & Curiosity. This time, I’m writing about the second top-voted theme from that poll: Love & Kindness.

Her reflections don’t offer grand theories. They offer ground-level truths, the kind you actually want with you when things get hard, or tender, or real.

Here are a few of my favorites.