A Case Study in Corporate Decay

When Leadership Fails Across Every System, Don’t Be Surprised by Who Ends Up in Charge

We’re not just watching a political unraveling. We’re watching a leadership crisis that mirrors every broken system we’ve tolerated for too long—where the mediocre rise, the toxic perform, and the people who might have fixed it burn out or walk away. This isn’t just about government. It’s about corporate America. It’s about every room where power is confused for capability. And it’s time we stop calling it a glitch—and start naming it for what it is.

"This isn’t just about government. It’s about every room where power is confused for capability—and where we keep mistaking visibility for value."

We like to believe democracy self-corrects. That competence rises. That the center will hold.

But what if the center is hollow?

What if the system we’re counting on is being run like a bad company—one that promotes the wrong people, punishes the brave ones, and keeps hoping the mission statement will do the work of actual leadership?

Because here’s the truth: what’s happening in government is a mirror. Of corporate America. Of our institutions. Of the way we elevate people who’ve never been trained, never been tested, and never had to lead anything real. The result? A structure stacked with B-Players, C-Players, and a few highly toxic Player Xs.

This isn’t just bad politics.

It’s bad people management.

B-Players: Survivors, Not Solvers

B-Players in government are the same as B-Players in business. Risk-averse. Compliant. Skilled at surviving, not innovating. They know how to navigate the meeting, not the mission. They thrive in systems where maintaining appearances matters more than delivering outcomes.

They won’t destroy the institution. But they’ll quietly drain it of relevance.

Their power comes from not rocking the boat—even as the boat is sinking.

C-Players: Promoted Past Their Potential

C-Players show up in government the same way they show up in corporate: through systems that reward loyalty, not capability. Systems that mistake time served for skill earned. Systems where no one’s really checking the performance—just the boxes.

They underdeliver. They overpromise. And they operate with a terrifying mix of certainty and incompetence.

They’re not malicious. But they’re in the way.

And in politics—as in business—there’s no easy path for removing them once they’ve taken root.

Player X: Charisma Without Competence

And then there’s Player X. They didn’t become toxic once they got power—they were already corrosive. The system just gave them a stage.

Player X isn’t here to repair. They’re here to reshape—every institution, every rule, every norm—into something that serves their ego, not the people. They don’t lead. They dominate. They don’t govern. They perform.

And they win, not because they trick people, but because enough people are desperate for someone—anyone—to sound like they’re in charge.

Player X sells destruction as deliverance. It’s not reform. It’s revenge.

The Democrats: Acting Like HR in the Wrong Era

And then there’s the opposition. The party of process. Of policy binders and moral high ground. The Democrats are playing defense with a playbook built for a different era—a risk-managed, compliance-heavy, consensus-driven HR model that thinks if we just remind people of the handbook, they'll follow it.

But this isn’t an employee relations issue.

This is a cultural reset.

And they’re treating it like a policy violation.

While the house is burning, they’re holding meetings about fire codes.

If they want to win, they have to rip it up. The whole strategy. They need to stop trying to out-civility chaos and start building something worth fighting for—something new, human-centered, bolder than the broken system they keep trying to fix from inside.

Because you don’t out-policy Player X.

You out-build them.

What We’re Really Up Against

This isn’t about left or right. It’s about rot.

It’s about watching a system elevate people who were never ready to lead—and then blaming individuals for the inevitable collapse. It’s about confusing procedure with progress, and charisma with competence. It’s about how everywhere—in boardrooms, in Congress, in your own local school board—we keep mistaking visibility for value.

And every time we do that, we train a generation to believe that leadership is either a lie or a lost cause.

My Work Is Here

I’m not built for rallies. I get overwhelmed in crowds. I miss the chant cues. And I leave with a migraine, not a movement plan.

But I still believe in change. Deeply.

And I’ve come to accept that my version of activism doesn’t show up in streets—it shows up in systems. In burning down broken ones. In refusing to call dysfunction “normal.” In designing something better, slower, and more human, even when no one’s watching.

Because the chaos we see in government is the same rot we’ve normalized in our organizations: promoting people who were never taught to lead, tolerating mediocrity because it’s familiar, and mistaking disruption for innovation.

My version of the work is naming it. Calling out the B-Players, the C-Players, the Player Xs who’ve hijacked systems everywhere—not to shame them, but to show the rest of us that we’re not crazy. That we’re not alone. That this isn’t the best we can do.

It might not look like activism. But it is.

Because tearing down the lies of competence is one thing.

But building a new standard?

That’s the real rebellion.