Why Cynicism is the Ultra-Processed Food of Leadership

We all know the story about ultra-processed food. They're engineered to hit our pleasure centres with maximum convenience and minimum effort. They're everywhere, they're addictive, and while they provide undeniable momentary satisfaction, they leave us nutritionally depleted.

I've been thinking lately about how cynicism in leadership follows a remarkably similar pattern.

It's Easy to Reach For

Like the bag of chips in the cupboard or the fast-food drive-through on the way home, cynicism is always available and requires minimal effort.

When team members don't immediately embrace change, it's easier to think, 'people always resist new ideas' than to understand and address what may be legitimate concerns.

When a cross-functional project stalls, it's simpler to think, "department X never collaborates effectively" than to understand the constraints they're navigating.

Cynicism offers pre-packaged explanations that save us from the hard work of nuance and engagement:

• "Our industry is unique – big innovation isn't an option for us."

• "We've tried similar approaches before—they never stick."

• "This is just the latest flavour-of-the-month."

These cynical defaults are the leadership equivalent of grabbing McDonalds instead of making dinner. They're cognitive shortcuts that may briefly satisfy our need for a sense of understanding but leave us malnourished in wisdom and insight.

Just as ultra-processed foods are designed to be convenient, cynicism presents itself as the path of least resistance. But leadership, like nutrition, isn't meant to be frictionless. The most valuable things rarely are.

It's Addictive

Ultra-processed foods are scientifically engineered to create cravings through the perfect combination of salt, sugar, and fat (and, let’s be honest, super enticing chemicals). Similarly, cynicism hooks us through a potent mix of psychological rewards.

Cynicism's addictive pull works on multiple levels. It masquerades as wisdom, letting us position ourselves (even in our own minds) as the savvy veterans who've 'seen it all before.' There's a seductive quality to this perceived sophistication—it feeds our desire to appear knowledgeable and experienced.

Beyond that, it offers protection. By expecting the worst, we're never caught off guard. Pouring cold water on new ideas insulates us from the vulnerability that comes with hope.

Perhaps most insidiously, cynicism creates belonging. Those knowing glances between leaders when a new initiative is announced? That's tribal bonding at work—a shared understanding that 'we're the ones who really get how things work around here.'

The more we indulge in cynicism, the more these rewards reinforce the habit. Before long, cynical thinking becomes our default setting – our brain's equivalent of reaching for comfort food during times of stress.

But just as sugar cravings intensify the more we indulge them, cynicism becomes increasingly difficult to resist the more we practice it. What starts as occasional skepticism can calcify into chronic cynicism, affecting not just our leadership but our entire worldview – and affecting all those around us.

It's Never Life-Giving or Conducive to Health

No nutritionist would argue that ultra-processed foods contribute to flourishing health. Similarly, cynicism never creates the conditions for organisational or personal health.

The cost of cynicism shows up across every dimension of leadership. Our vision narrows, making it nearly impossible to inspire others toward a compelling future when we're constantly expressing doubt. Innovation withers because creative solutions require the willingness to try things that might fail. Resilience—which depends on maintaining possibility even in difficult circumstances—erodes beneath cynicism's constant dismissal of potential positive outcomes.

Perhaps most damaging is what happens to trust. Teams instinctively sense when their leader fundamentally doubts the organisation's mission or goals, or their colleagues' intentions. This scepticism spreads like a contagion, creating environments where genuine belief in a shared future becomes rarer.

And then there's the simple matter of joy. Cynicism drains the enjoyment from leadership for everyone involved, transforming what could be a meaningful journey into a hard slog through doubt and dismissal.

Just as a steady diet of ultra-processed food depletes our physical vitality, consistent cynicism depletes our leadership vitality. Both leave us functioning below our potential, wondering why we feel so depleted.

Breaking the Cynicism Habit

If cynicism is the ultra-processed food of leadership, what would constitute a more wholesome diet? What's the leadership equivalent of fresh, nutrient-dense food?

Engage with complexity – Ultra-processed food simplifies nutrition to a few intense flavours. Similarly, cynicism simplifies complex realities into simplistic dismissals. Engaging honestly with complexity – even when it's uncomfortable – builds our leadership capacity.

Cultivate a sharp mind and a soft heart – We can approach complexity with clear eyes and full recognition of the realities of the challenges, seeking to understand them deeply. At the same time, we can cultivate a posture of hope that makes room for possibility and new solutions in the midst of those realities, committing to seeing the best in others in the midst of the complexities they, too, are navigating.

Seek out different perspectives – If you find yourself trapped in cynical thinking, seek out people, authors, gatherings and other sources of voices who see things differently. It's amazing how one gathering surrounded by people who aren't absorbed in the same world as you can open up new ideas and perspectives.

The Courage to Hope

I've found that in leadership, as in nutrition, the easy choices rarely build lasting health. Cynicism offers the immediate satisfaction of a drive-through meal, but leaves us wondering why we feel so depleted. The choice to engage with messy complexity and maintain hope isn't the easy path—but then again, the path to anything worthwhile rarely is.

Imagine how much more vitality is possible for all of us, our teams, and our organisations if we consistently reject processed cynicism for the more nourishing alternative of clear-eyed hope?