Reflections on leadership shaped by integrity

A commitment to operating with integrity doesn’t equate to infallible decisions. But it does mean accountability, humility, and a willingness to make hard choices even when there’s no immediate reward. I’ve seen what happens when companies and individuals lose sight of that. Shortcuts can deliver short-term gains, but they always cost something more valuable: trust.

Trust takes years to build and moments to lose. I’ve come to believe that maintaining it requires empathy as much as ethics — understanding what people are going through, being transparent about what you can and can’t do, and staying true to your word.

I remember a colleague once joking, “Sometimes I think we’re too honest.” But I’ve learned that being “too honest” is far less risky than being the opposite. Integrity might not always win you the fastest deal or the biggest headline, but it earns something much more durable: credibility.

One of the moments that demonstrated professional integrity most clearly to me came during the early days of the opioid crisis. At the time, opioid prescribing was widespread and largely unquestioned. From the vantage point of workers’ compensation, we began to see the human cost unfold in real time. People were getting hurt on the job, being prescribed opioids for pain, and then tragically, losing everything — spouses, jobs, savings, even their lives.

There was no roadmap for how to respond. But I worked with leaders who were passionately committed to pushing for change, including Tron Emptage, Chief Clinical Officer. His driving question was “What’s happening to these people, and how can we help make a change for the better?”

Operating with this question in mind, pharmacists, clinicians, and data teams developed injury-based formularies to help claims professionals approve the appropriate medications for an injury. They also developed clinical escalation alerts, which notify adjusters when a patient’s opioid use looks risky. This was before clinical oversight in workers’ comp was common. By introducing a new role, pharmacist liaisons, they were able to partner dedicated pharmacists with clients to provide case reviews and clinical consultations. To further the clinical evaluation process, the medical director, pharmacists, nurses, and account teams came together in clinical roundtables to analyze trends and improve safety protocols. All of these programs amounted to a big step forward in blending business strategy with clinical insight. That’s what integrity looks like in practice.

Witnessing those activities changed me. It showed me that integrity isn’t abstract, it’s the sum of the many decisions, sometimes difficult or uncomfortable, that are needed to make a positive, lasting impact.

Over the years, I’ve been part of several teams and organizations, and one thing stands out: integrity only means something if people live it day to day. The healthiest cultures I’ve seen are the ones where integrity is woven into how people think — where doing the right thing isn’t a debate but a reflex. It’s evident in how coworkers handle disagreements, how leaders respond to mistakes, and how decisions are made when no one’s watching.

And just as importantly, it takes courage. Integrity asks you to slow down when the world is moving fast, to question easy answers, and to speak up even when it would be more comfortable to continue with the status quo.

After more than two decades in this field, what keeps me motivated is the sense of purpose that comes from helping people recover and rebuild their lives. It’s seeing how small acts of honesty, accountability, and care ripple outward in ways you might not even realize at the time.

I’ve worked with people who’ve taught me that integrity doesn’t mean being perfect; it means being real — consistent, human, and willing to take responsibility. That’s the kind of leadership that lasts, and it’s what I try to bring to my work every day.

No matter how much the industry evolves, that value doesn’t change. Integrity still feels like the quiet force that holds everything else together. And for me, that’s enough reason to keep showing up and doing my best to live it.