That Means the Rest of Us Matter More Than We Think

Here’s a statistic that should give us pause:

According to the 2026 Global Culture Report from O.C. Tanner, only 16% of employees say they are thriving at work. Zoom out beyond work, and research from Gallup suggests that only about one-third of people say they are thriving in life overall.

That’s heavy. (No spin required.)

But if you sit with it for a moment, there’s another way to read those numbers—and it’s far less depressing than it first appears.

If so few people are thriving, it means many of us are walking around carrying invisible weight. And it also means something else that’s easy to miss:

The way we show up for one another matters more than we think.

We Dramatically Underestimate the Impact We Have on Each Other

We tend to associate “impact” with scale.

Big roles.
Big decisions.
Big initiatives.

But the research keeps pointing us in a different direction.

Thriving isn’t primarily driven by perks, programs, or polished culture statements. It’s shaped in the day-to-day, human moments—how people are treated, whether they feel seen, and whether anyone notices when they’re struggling.

Research from O.C. Tanner shows that thriving at work isn’t driven by grand gestures, but by everyday human experiences. Employees are significantly more likely to feel hopeful, well, and that they belong when leaders and coworkers create moments of recognition, inclusion, and support—small interactions that compound over time.

Which brings me to a moment that has stayed with me.

A Grocery Store, a Walker, and Four Minutes

Recently, I was at the grocery store with my youngest kid.

We noticed a woman struggling to get a reusable bag onto her walker so she could keep shopping. She was by herself. Moving slowly. And her posture told a story before she ever said a word—this wasn’t just an awkward moment. (This was a body navigating some real health challenges.)

We asked if we could help.
She said yes.

It took maybe four minutes to organize her bag and get it hung on her walker. I told her I liked her lipstick.

That’s it.

No heroics. No big moment. Just hands, patience, eye contact, and attention.

We went on with our day, but I didn’t leave unchanged. Something that was so simple for me was a big deal to her.

Moments like that remind me how easy it is to rush past what’s happening around us—and how meaningful it is when we don’t.

Work Is Where These Moments Multiply

Here’s the part we don’t talk about enough:

We spend the majority of our waking hours at work. With colleagues. With teammates. With people who are also carrying invisible weight.

Which means—whether we realize it or not—we are constantly shaping how others feel when they leave for the day.

We influence what they bring home to their families.
The tone they carry into their communities.
The story they tell themselves about whether they matter.

That’s not soft and it’s not sentimental.

That’s real impact. And it helps explain why research consistently links connection, recognition, and inclusion at work to higher levels of wellbeing, hope, and belonging—outcomes that ripple far beyond performance metrics

This Isn’t About Being “Nice.” It’s About Being Aware. (For a recent post on why leadership isn’t about being nice, check this one out.)

This isn’t a call for forced positivity or performative kindness.

It’s about awareness.

About:

• Paying attention instead of rushing past
• Offering patience instead of irritation
• Choosing curiosity instead of assumption
• Remembering there’s a human on the other side of the interaction

Lately, I’ve been reminding myself to slow down just enough to notice what’s happening around me—especially when I feel busy, distracted, or behind.

Not because I’m trying to be a better leader.

But because connection has a quiet way of reminding us—both the giver and the receiver—that we matter.

A Final Thought

If only one in three people are thriving, then the rest of us aren’t powerless observers.

We’re participants.

And sometimes the most meaningful impact we have doesn’t come from changing policies, fixing systems, or having the right title.

Sometimes it comes from four minutes.
From attention.
From choosing to see someone.

And from remembering that how we show up for one another goes further than we think.

P.S – want me to come speak to your team? Let’s talk.