When Compassion Loses Its Courage

Nonjudgment Is Not Compassion

Even good things can become contaminated. This includes values as virtuous as compassion and non-judgement. Michael Powell’s recent Atlantic article, “The Cities That Said Yes to Drugs,” is ostensibly about addiction policy. But I saw it as something deeper. I saw in it an important insight for leaders about what happens when a good value becomes contaminated by an extreme ideology.


Powell examines cities such as Seattle and Burlington that pursued a policy of “harm reduction” with respect to drug addicts. Addicts should be met where they are without judgment. This sounds compassionate. In our culture, “nonjudgmental” has almost become synonymous with kindness. However, this is not always true. Nonjudgment is not necessarily compassion. Sometimes judgment is precisely what care requires.


If someone I love is walking toward a cliff, compassion doesn’t require me to affirm the direction in which they are walking. If a colleague is behaving in ways that are damaging their career, friendship does not mean withholding judgment so that they never feel uncomfortable. And if an employee is failing, even the compassionate leader may need to say something uncomfortable.


There is a time for judgment and a time for tolerance. Values-centered leaders know the difference because their reactions are anchored in a coherent moral philosophy rather than in the pursuit of popularity or the flight from discomfort. They understand that judgment need not mean condemnation.


It means being willing to distinguish between what ought to continue and what must change, between what elevates people and what diminishes them.


Without a clearly defined value system, our responses to people become untethered. We may tolerate what should be challenged, challenge what should be understood, or call avoidance compassion because it feels kinder in the moment.


Without a coherent moral philosophy, compassion can easily deteriorate into acquiescence.


Powell describes the civil deterioration in the cities he studied: consequences at the civic level. In Burlington, residents report needles in flower boxes, people overdosing in public spaces, and children encountering drug paraphernalia outside a community center. The executive director of a Burlington community center asks why the drug user’s right to dignity should override children’s right to enter safely. “It’s as if,” she says, “we are frozen with fear that someone might see us as uncompassionate.”

The Cost of Untethered Values

I have seen organizations become frozen in exactly this way. Not necessarily around compassion, but around the fear of appearing inconsistent with one of their declared values even when that value is not appropriate in a given circumstance.


Leaders who avoid holding a poor performer accountable because they want to be seen as caring. Avoiding necessary restructuring to be seen as loyal. Tolerating destructive behavior because they pride themselves on inclusiveness. People stop challenging bad ideas when a culture celebrates psychological safety above all else.
In each case, the problem is not the value. Caring matters. Loyalty matters. Inclusion matters. Safety matters. The problem begins when one value becomes untethered from the integrated system of values around it.


Compassion without accountability can become indulgence. Loyalty without standards can become complicity. Inclusion without boundaries can undermine the very community it seeks to protect. Psychological safety without intellectual courage can produce spineless conformity rather than honest conversation.
Leadership demands judgment: the capacity to hold several virtuous values simultaneously, recognize the tension between them, and decide what the situation requires.


That is also why serious leaders need places in which their judgment can be tested. The higher the level of leadership, the fewer people there are who will challenge the assumptions behind a decision, particularly when those assumptions are wrapped in values. A good coach does not tell a leader what to think. A good coach helps the leader see where they might be using a value to defend themselves rather than to inspire others, and where courage may require a different choice.


Leadership needs to orchestrate competing forces, even when those forces are virtuous values because not all values deserve the same authority at all times. The addict has dignity. So does the public. The struggling employee deserves understanding. So does the team carrying that employee’s load. The long-serving executive deserves loyalty. So do the customers and shareholders affected by poor performance. For leaders to make consistent decisions that can be trusted, their values need to be integrated into a coherent system that represents their moral philosophy.

From Values to Moral Philosophy

This is why values cannot merely be named; they must be ordered, tested, and integrated. A leader who says they value compassion, accountability, loyalty, inclusion, courage, and safety has not yet done the deeper work. The real work is knowing how those values relate to one another, when one must yield to another, and what moral principle governs the decision. Without that work, leaders may still sound values-driven, but their decisions will feel inconsistent, reactive, or overly influenced by the pressures of the moment.


This kind of work is difficult to do alone. It requires disciplined reflection, honest challenge, and a trusted thinking partner who can help convert personal values into a coherent moral philosophy for leadership. That is one of an executive coach’s most important roles: to help a leader systematize their values so that judgment becomes steadier and compassion regains its strength.