Olivia: The leadership industry is worth over fifty billion dollars. Yet, studies show that up to half of all managers are considered incompetent or complete failures. Today, we explore why the advice meant to fix leadership is actually making it worse. Jackson: Whoa, hold on. Fifty percent? That’s a coin flip. You’re telling me there’s a 50/50 chance your boss is a complete failure? That sounds… terrifyingly accurate, actually. How can so much money be spent with such a terrible return? Olivia: That is the billion-dollar question, isn't it? And it’s the central theme of a really provocative book we’re diving into today: Leadership BS: Fixing Workplaces and Careers One Truth at a Time by Jeffrey Pfeffer. Jackson: Pfeffer... he's a big name, right? A professor at Stanford's Business School? I feel like I've seen his work cited everywhere. Olivia: Exactly. And he wrote this book because he was fed up. He’s sitting at one of the world's top business schools, and he sees this huge, unbridgeable gap between the feel-good leadership myths being sold and the brutal reality of why people get fired or fail to get promoted. Jackson: So he’s the insider calling out the whole system. I like that. Olivia: He is. The book was even a finalist for the Financial Times and McKinsey Business Book of the Year, but it’s incredibly polarizing. Readers either love its brutal honesty or absolutely hate its cynicism. Jackson: I can already see why. So where does Pfeffer think this all goes wrong? Why is the industry failing so badly if it's so massive? Olivia: He argues it starts with the very foundation of what the industry sells: inspiration and fables.

Jackson: Okay, but what’s wrong with inspiration? Isn't that what motivates people? I feel inspired after a good TED talk. It feels like a good thing. Olivia: It feels good, and that's precisely the problem. Pfeffer tells this incredible story. He was teaching an executive program in Barcelona, and at the closing dinner, a participant, who’d had a bit too much wine, corners him and says, "I want to be inspired. It's your job to inspire me!" Jackson: Oh, that's awkward. What did he say? Olivia: Pfeffer, being a social scientist, basically said his job is to provide facts, evidence, and useful ideas, not inspiration. Go to a museum or listen to music for that. But the executive was furious. And that, for Pfeffer, is the core issue. The customers—us, the employees and managers—are demanding to be told comforting stories, even if they're useless. Jackson: It's like we'd rather buy a lottery ticket than a savings bond. The fantasy is more appealing than the slow, boring reality. Olivia: Exactly. And Pfeffer’s most powerful analogy is this: he says the leadership industry today is like the medical field in America before 1910. It was a total Wild West. Anyone could call themselves a doctor. They sold snake oil, miracle cures, and unproven remedies. Success depended on salesmanship, not science. Jackson: So all these leadership gurus with their best-selling books and viral talks… are they the modern-day snake oil salesmen? Olivia: In many cases, yes. They build legitimacy through notoriety—Twitter followers, blog posts, TED talks—not through scientific evidence. And this isn't just harmless fun. Pfeffer shares a truly heartbreaking story about a woman in Silicon Valley. She was a star performer in marketing analytics, made her company millions, and got promoted to lead her own team. Jackson: Sounds like she was doing everything right. Olivia: She was. But then a peer tried to get her team moved under his control. So, remembering what she learned in a leadership course about repairing relationships and appealing to company values, she tried to talk it out with him. It failed. She then went to her boss and HR, pointing out how this guy’s behavior violated the company's "espoused values." Jackson: And they backed her up, right? Because that's what the leadership books say should happen. Olivia: They did nothing. They basically told her she needed to learn to look after herself. Her belief in the leadership fables—that the system is fair and that appealing to values works—cost her. She eventually had to leave the company. The "rules" she learned were completely disconnected from the reality of power in her workplace. Jackson: Wow, that's brutal. So the advice isn't just ineffective, it can be actively harmful. It’s like teaching someone to play chess and then throwing them into a boxing ring. Olivia: That’s a perfect way to put it. And it gets even more psychologically twisted. Pfeffer brings up this concept from social psychology called "moral licensing." The research is fascinating. In one study, people who first got a chance to demonstrate they weren't prejudiced were then more likely to make a biased decision later. Jackson: Wait, so doing something good gives you a free pass to be bad later? Olivia: It can. The idea is that once you've established your "moral credentials," you feel licensed to relax your standards. Pfeffer suggests this happens with leaders. They give a big speech about values, or they read a book about being a better person, and they get this little halo. They feel good about themselves. But then they substitute that feeling for actual action. The talk becomes a replacement for the walk. Jackson: That is a deeply unsettling idea. So the more a CEO talks about ethics, the more I should be checking my wallet? Olivia: Pfeffer would say you should at least be watching their actions, not their words. Because this leads to the second, even more controversial part of his argument. If inspiration and authenticity are BS, what actually works? The answer is not pretty.

Olivia: This is where Pfeffer really turns the knife. He argues that the very qualities the leadership industry tells us to avoid—like immodesty, narcissism, and a willingness to be dishonest—are often the keys to success. Jackson: Okay, now that just feels cynical. Come on. We all know narcissists are terrible to work for. How can that possibly be a good thing for a leader? Olivia: It’s terrible for the people under them, but it can be incredibly effective for the narcissist's own career. Think about how leaders are chosen. We select for confidence, for charisma, for a certain kind of dominance. And who excels at projecting those traits? Jackson: Narcissists. Olivia: Exactly. They are masters of self-promotion. They aren't shy about taking credit. They project an aura of competence that can be very seductive. Pfeffer points to research showing that narcissistic CEOs actually earn more and have longer tenures than their more modest counterparts. Jackson: So we say we want humble, servant leaders, but we're biologically and psychologically wired to pick the most confident, loudest person in the room? Olivia: That’s the paradox. We have this fundamental ambivalence. Look at someone like Donald Trump. His brand is built on extreme immodesty. He puts his name in giant gold letters on buildings. Critics called it tasteless, but you can't deny its effectiveness as a branding strategy. Or think back to Lee Iacocca at Chrysler in the 80s. He saved the company, became a national hero, and then spent the second half of his tenure starring in commercials and promoting his autobiography. His personal stock soared, but Chrysler’s performance tanked. He was serving himself, not the company. Jackson: This is making me rethink every promotion I've ever seen. But what about just basic honesty? Surely you can't get ahead by lying. Olivia: Oh, you absolutely can. And people do, constantly. Pfeffer is ruthless on this point. He cites data showing that 44% of job applicants lie about their work histories and 41% lie about their education. It's rampant. And he argues there are very few sanctions for it. Jackson: But what about the big lies? The ones that should get you fired? Olivia: He tells the story of Dick Costolo, who was hired as the COO of Twitter. On his very first day, he sent out a public tweet that said: "Task #1: undermine the CEO, consolidate power." Jackson: He tweeted that? Publicly? Olivia: He did. Everyone thought it was a joke. But a year later, the CEO, Evan Williams, was out, and Dick Costolo was the new CEO. The "joke" was a shockingly honest statement of intent. He played the power game, and he won. Pfeffer's point is that in many organizations, self-interest isn't just tolerated; it's the engine of advancement. Jackson: I'm just stuck on the idea that we're supposed to accept this. If this is all true, what are we supposed to do? Just become cynical and ruthless to get ahead? Olivia: And that's the most common criticism of the book—that it's a cynical guide to becoming a monster. But Pfeffer’s response is that he's not being prescriptive; he's being descriptive. He's not telling you to become a narcissist. He's telling you that the world is full of them, and you need to be prepared to deal with that reality. He's giving you a map of the territory as it is, not as we wish it were. Jackson: So it’s less of a "how-to" guide and more of a "field guide to the corporate jungle"? Here's how to spot the predators before they eat you. Olivia: Precisely. It's about situational intelligence. The advice to "be authentic" is useless if your authentic self is modest and quiet in an organization that rewards loud self-promoters. You'll be authentically unemployed.

Jackson: Okay, my head is spinning. If the leadership industry is broken, inspiration is a trap, and being a 'bad' person often helps you win, what's the real takeaway here? Are we all just doomed to work in these dysfunctional systems? Olivia: It feels that way, but Pfeffer's conclusion is surprisingly empowering, though not in a feel-good way. He says the first step is to stop lying to ourselves. He brings up the Stockdale Paradox, named after James Stockdale, who was a prisoner of war in Vietnam for eight years. Jackson: I think I've heard of this. Olivia: Stockdale observed who survived the camps and who didn't. He said it wasn't the optimists. The optimists would say, "We'll be out by Christmas." And Christmas would come and go. Then they'd say, "We'll be out by Easter." And they'd die of a broken heart. Stockdale said the ones who survived were those who never lost faith that they would get out, but who simultaneously confronted the brutal, unvarnished facts of their current reality. Jackson: Wow. So blind optimism is a killer. Olivia: It is. And that's Pfeffer's message. The "Leadership BS" isn't just the bad advice out there; it's our own deep-seated desire to believe in the fairy tale. We want to believe our companies care about us, that leaders are benevolent, that the rules are fair. Confronting the brutal fact that this is often untrue is the first, most critical step. Jackson: So the real leadership skill is seeing the world clearly, without the sugar-coating. Olivia: Exactly. It's about developing a keen sense of situational awareness. The ultimate challenge isn't about memorizing a list of virtues. It's about looking at your specific organization, your specific boss, your specific team, and asking a very different question. Jackson: What's the question? Olivia: Pfeffer's ultimate challenge is for us to stop asking 'How can I be a good, authentic, inspiring leader?' and start asking, 'What does this specific situation, in this specific ecosystem, require of me to be effective and to protect myself?' Jackson: That's a powerful question to end on. It shifts the focus from an abstract ideal to a concrete reality. What do you all think? Have you seen this 'Leadership BS' in your own workplaces? Have you been told to be authentic when it felt like the worst possible advice? Let us know your stories. We'd love to hear them. Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.