This week, something quietly powerful happened. In the middle of a whirlwind of deadlines, meetings, and the launch of my book, people showed up for me. My team, yes and friends, family, and loved ones from all corners of the world. They rallied with messages, support, and unexpected acts of kindness. They stood beside me not because they had to, but because they chose to.

And in that moment, I was reminded of something leadership books rarely talk about. Something we never forget. Care.

It wasn’t performative. It wasn’t a hashtag. It was human. And it reminded me why I believe so deeply in building cultures that centre on care, not just as a value on a wall, but as a living, breathing practice.

A duty to care

When I first started in finance, I kept hearing the phrase “we have a duty of care.” But even then, I remember wondering, “Why not a duty to care?” The shift in wording might seem small, but the difference in intent is seismic.

“A duty of care” sounds like a tick-box exercise. But “a duty to care” is a choice. A commitment to show up with empathy, attention, and integrity. It means looking someone in the eye and seeing the human being behind the role.

That’s what folks did this week. And in doing so, they reminded me what leadership really means. It’s not about always knowing the answer. It’s about cultivating the kind of trust where people feel safe to show up for each other.

Why care feels so radical

In a hyperconnected world, we’re paradoxically more disconnected than ever. The data backs this up: over 40% of UK employees report feeling isolated from their colleagues. Nearly a quarter say they don’t have a single friend at work.

And behind those statistics? People. Quietly lonely. Quietly burning out.

We’ve mastered the art of appearing connected while slowly drifting apart. We chase success, efficiency, outcomes. But somewhere along the way, we stopped gathering. We stopped seeing each other. We forgot that companies were always meant to be communities. The word itself, company, comes from the Latin companis: to break bread together.

Care is a practice not a perk

Care isn’t a duvet day. It’s not pizza in the breakroom or corporate swag. It’s not a Friday drinks email or a wellbeing webinar. Real care is relational, not transactional. It’s how we listen. How we pay attention. How we step in when someone’s carrying more than they’re letting on.

That’s why I talk about care as a cycle: connection, attention, refraction, and expansion.

This week, I saw every element of that cycle in motion. My team noticed. They asked. They showed up. And they gave without needing anything in return.

This is the kind of culture I want to help build. One where care is normalised. Where asking for help isn’t weakness. Where being seen and supported is just part of how things are done.

So, what does care look like in your world?

If we want workplaces that feel more human, we need to start showing up more humanly. With empathy. With honesty. With care. Because people don’t care how much you know, until they know how much you care.

And if this week taught me anything, it’s this: care might not always be visible, but when it appears, it changes everything.

So, ask yourself: What does care look like in your team, your space, your world? When did you last offer it? When did you last receive it?