Roselle is a thought leader in Digital Journal’s Insight Forum (become a member).
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been reflecting on a tension that shows up constantly in leadership: the tug-of-war between building and blocking, between possibility and hesitation — between abundance and scarcity.
This reflection was sparked by reading Abundance, a book by Derek Thompson and Ezra Klein. They argue that much of American life over the last fifty years has been shaped by an “ideology of scarcity” — one that limits the supply of vital goods like housing and energy through outdated policies and an aversion to risk. In contrast, they advocate for a politics of abundance — one that embraces innovation and building, aiming for a future of more rather than less for everyone.
That language struck a chord. Not just because it’s a compelling macroeconomic idea, but because it speaks so clearly to the day-to-day realities of organizational leadership.
Scarcity and abundance are not just economic frameworks. They are leadership mindsets. And in my world — the world of inclusion, organizational change, and talent development — these mindsets show up all the time.
In one instance, a team presented a thoughtful, community-informed recommendation aimed at addressing a longstanding equity gap. It was grounded in months of research and consultation, collaboratively and carefully built to address inequities as observed in the system. In the decision-making room, the response from a key leader was, “I’m not convinced. What’s the ROI? Is this the best model to get the outcome?” No alternatives offered. No curiosity. Just critique.
This wasn’t critical engagement; it was more cautious disengagement. The team felt deflated, and the energy shifted from building something meaningful to defending why it should even exist.
That’s what scarcity can sound like: uncertainty masked as rigour, gatekeeping disguised as prudence.
It wasn’t the pushback that stung — scrutiny is part of the process — but the lack of imagination. The inability to see possibility and the way the conversation immediately narrowed. That’s scarcity mindset in action: a fear of trying something new because it might not work, instead of a willingness to build because it just might.
In contrast, in another conversation about talent development, a colleague reached out with excitement about a creative, unconventional idea. It didn’t fit neatly into a pre-existing process. It wasn’t “tried and tested.” But it had heart. It held promise. And most importantly, it came from a place of possibility: What if we tried something different? What if we said yes before we knew exactly how it would unfold? That’s abundance. Not recklessness — but courage.
And I’ve been on both sides of this myself.
When I released my memoir, The Ordinary Turned Precious, in 2023, I was flooded with dread. What would people think? How would they react to the rawness, the personal truths, the moments I had kept hidden behind a polished professional exterior? Would they judge me? Would they see me as less credible, less competent, less “together”?
That was scarcity talking — the belief that there’s only one way to be taken seriously, that authenticity and professionalism are mutually exclusive.
But I released it anyway. And what came back was nothing like what I feared. I’ve received note after note of immense gratitude — from readers who saw themselves in my words, who had long hidden behind a “safe” professional mask and felt, for the first time in a long time, seen. Many of them were senior leaders themselves. Accomplished. Polished. But quietly longing to be human again.
In choosing abundance — in trusting there was room for truth and tenderness in leadership — I found connection. I found community. I found that more was possible.
Scarcity mindset says, “We can’t afford to take the risk.”
Abundance mindset says, “We can’t afford not to.”
As leaders, the mindset we bring — especially when the stakes feel high — matters more than we think. Scarcity closes doors. Abundance opens them.
This is particularly important in the work of inclusion. Because inclusive leadership is abundance in action: the belief that excellence exists in places we’ve historically overlooked, and the willingness to redesign systems so more people can thrive — not simply survive.
Abundance thinking doesn’t mean every idea is perfect. It is not naive optimism. It’s courageous leadership. It’s choosing to invest, to believe, to co-create — even when we don’t yet have all the answers. It’s what fuels innovation, belonging, and trust. It means understanding that progress requires experimentation; that imagination is a leadership skill, not a luxury.
So when we find ourselves defaulting to “no” — especially when the idea comes from a different paradigm than our own — it’s worth asking:
- Are we protecting the status quo, or creating space for something better?
- Are we closing the door to risk, or opening one to possibility?
- What might be possible if we said “Yes”?
- What could we unlock if we led with abundance?
The cultures we build are shaped by what we say yes to. And inclusive leadership, at its core, is about creating room to build more — not just for some, but for all.
