The algorithm doesn’t care about your lunch break. I learned this while scrolling through TikTok last week, when disturbing raw footage of the Charlie Kirk shooting suddenly filled my screen — unbidden, unwanted, and impossible to unsee. It literally gave me nightmares.
That same invasive quality now defines how politics infiltrate workplaces on both sides of the border. When ABC indefinitely suspended Jimmy Kimmel’s show yesterday following some commentary about Kirk’s assassination — under direct pressure from Trump administration officials — I’ll admit to being a bit shellshocked.
This wasn’t just targeting one comedian, after all; it was demonstrating how government power can now reach directly into private enterprise to enforce political orthodoxy. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” FCC chair Brendan Carr warned, a statement that would have seemed unthinkable in corporate communications a handful of years ago.
The speed of corporate capitulation has been breathtaking. This is the first time, in my lifetime anyway, I have seen interference from the very top of the U.S. government into individual workplace hiring and firing decisions in the private sector. This feels so much different and chilling than similar grassroots pressure we have seen for years, including social media campaigns, boycott threats, and public shaming that now feels quaint by comparison.
There has always been an element of politics to policy and lawmaking that affects workplaces — think DEI initiatives or environmental regulations. But this direct, targeted government interference in employment decisions represents something fundamentally different. It’s not about broad policy frameworks; it’s about government officials picking individuals and demanding their punishment. That’s a line that gnaws away at free speech in ways that feel unprecedented and unsettling.
For leaders in the workplace, it poses a fundamental challenge: How do you maintain workplace cohesion when employees arrive carrying the same tribal loyalties that fuel our own social divisions?
Inside our offices, staff navigate conversations about everything from convoy protests to transgender rights to climate policy — topics that trigger the same existential responses we’re seeing south of the border. Water cooler discussions that once centered on weekend plans now require careful navigation of ideological sensitivities.
Consider the impossible position facing managers today. An employee expresses concern about rising housing costs and immigration policy, another responds with accusations of racism, and suddenly you’re mediating discussions that touch on fundamental questions of fairness and identity. The old playbook —neutral statements about “respecting diverse viewpoints” — feels quaint when silence itself gets interpreted as political stance.
We need to distinguish between process and content. You can oppose government interference in private employment without endorsing specific political positions. It doesn’t matter if the call is coming from Mark Carney or Pierre Poilievre, government officials should never be dictating individual hiring and firing decisions at private companies.
You can also defend an employee’s right to voice concerns without validating their interpretation of events.
This requires “procedural courage” — defending proper boundaries even when it creates discomfort. When companies abandon these boundaries under pressure, they make future pressure campaigns more likely. Every capitulation teaches would-be censors that economic leverage can override workplace independence.
The most effective approach involves establishing clear frameworks before crises hit. Political disagreement is natural; political harassment is not. But encouraging open political dialogue in the workplace is often counterproductive — it creates more division than it resolves, puts employees in uncomfortable positions with colleagues they need to work with productively, and exposes organizations to discrimination claims.
The goal should be creating an environment where people with different views can collaborate effectively, not where they feel compelled to hash out their differences. Focus on behaviour, not beliefs: you can hold whatever views you want, but you must treat all colleagues respectfully.
The deeper challenge lies in modelling the behaviour we want to see. This absolutely doesn’t mean leaders should engage in political discussions with their teams. It means demonstrating how to acknowledge that political topics exist without diving into them, how to redirect conversations professionally when they veer into divisive territory, and how to treat all employees with equal respect regardless of their suspected political leanings.
When leaders show they can remain curious about people as individuals rather than making assumptions based on their politics, they create workplaces where professional relationships can thrive despite ideological differences.
The alternative is workplace culture where employees self-censor out of fear, where political conformity becomes an unofficial job requirement, where diversity of thought gets sacrificed to ideological purity. We’re closer to that reality than many leaders want to admit.
The algorithm may not care about our lunch breaks, but we can choose how we respond when divisive content invades our spaces. While we may not face the same regulatory threats as our American counterparts, the challenge of leading through polarization remains universal.
The question isn’t whether politics will enter your workplace. It’s whether you’ll be ready to lead when they do.
