The bullies are being handed the reins of power in many organizations, particularly government ones south of the border. And that’s not a good thing.
“Don’t get in my way,” said acting FEMA Administrator David Richardson to his employees in his very first address. As first impressions go, it wasn’t exactly Churchillian. Instead of inspiring his team, Richardson offered threats. Instead of rallying support, he drew lines in the sand.
“Obfuscation, delay, undermining… If you’re one of those 20 per cent of the people and you think those tactics and techniques are going to help you, they will not, because I will run right over you,” he said in a video obtained by CBS News.
Call me old-fashioned, but I always thought leadership involved a bit more finesse than steamrolling dissent. Maybe I missed something in those dusty old leadership books — although Richardson proudly admits he’s never cracked one. He prefers to operate in chaos, he said. “I don’t stop at yield signs.”
Richardson’s approach is more than just tough talk; it reflects an unsettling recent trend in leadership out of Washington — a fascination with bullying dressed as decisiveness. Leaders, genuine leaders, know how to unify, inspire, and bring out the best in their people. What they don’t do is threaten to flatten anyone who dares think differently.
Ironically, Richardson succeeded Cameron Hamilton, who had the audacity — or courage, depending on your point of view — to publicly disagree with President Trump’s desire to potentially eliminate FEMA entirely. Hamilton’s reward for speaking his truth? Immediate dismissal. A day later, Richardson walked in, vowing unequivocal obedience. “I will achieve the president’s intent,” he declared.
Leadership by fiat rarely works, at least not in the long term. There’s a substantial difference between a team that obeys and one that believes. The former may comply out of fear; the latter moves mountains because they feel part of something bigger. Leaders who bully often confuse compliance with commitment.
But Richardson didn’t just warn employees to fall in line; he also dismissed the notion of collaboration entirely. “I, and I alone in FEMA, speak for FEMA,” he declared. It’s a curious strategy to sideline the wisdom of experienced professionals, reducing their voices to echoes or silence. True leaders amplify the expertise around them — they don’t mute it.
Richardson’s reference to his Marine Corps service is undeniably honourable. Few dispute the sacrifice and discipline military leadership requires. Yet, civilian leadership — particularly within agencies responsible for disaster relief — demands additional skills: empathy, nuance, collaboration. Richardson’s open hostility to these principles may undermine the very organization he’s been tasked to lead.
It’s also hard not to wonder about morale in an agency where 20 per cent of the workforce has been openly identified as potential saboteurs. What happens to an organization’s spirit when its leader sees adversaries rather than colleagues? Richardson didn’t just throw down a gauntlet; he may have inadvertently started a self-fulfilling prophecy of resistance.
Good leaders create followers who aspire to their vision, rather than subjects who fear their wrath. History repeatedly reminds us of this fact: the greatest leaders are remembered for their ability to elevate and inspire — not their willingness to crush dissent.
As business leaders and HR professionals know all too well, the impact of leadership tone is profound and lasting. Toxic leadership poisons the well, spreading cynicism and disengagement — and turnover — throughout the ranks. Conversely, empathetic leadership generates loyalty, creativity, and resilience.
Richardson concluded by promising future “town halls” where employees can play “stump the chump.” Perhaps this passes as folksy charm in his world, but it comes across as dismissive, trivializing genuine concerns and questions.
So here we have it: a FEMA administrator proudly admitting he’s never read a leadership book, comfortable working amid chaos, quick to threaten, dismissive of collaborative dialogue, and openly hostile to questions. It’s a checklist for disaster, though not the kind FEMA is designed to handle.
Leaders matter. How they speak, listen, and act matters deeply — not just for morale but for organizational effectiveness. In the realm of crisis response, leadership can literally mean life or death.
