01What it took

What did it take to get here that people don't see?

A lot of what it took is not particularly visible from the outside. It was years of learning, adapting, taking on work before I felt completely ready for it, and becoming more comfortable trusting my own judgment.

It also took people. Mentors, colleagues, managers, friends, and family who challenged me, advocated for me, or gave me an opportunity at the right moment. Careers can look very individual when summarized in a biography, but very few of us get anywhere entirely on our own.

And it took consistency. Many of the things I am proudest of today were not the result of one defining moment, but of showing up, doing the work, learning from what did not go as planned, and continuing to grow.

02Where empathy started

In your published essay, you argue that empathy produces better legal outcomes, not just better relationships. What is the earliest moment in your career when you proved that to yourself? Where were you working, what kind of issue was on your desk, and what changed because you approached it that way?

I’m not sure I can point to one dramatic moment when I suddenly understood this. It was something I learned fairly early and then kept seeing reinforced throughout my career.

As a young in-house lawyer, I initially thought that being good at the job meant getting the legal analysis right: understanding the risk, drafting the right language, and protecting the company’s position.

What I began to notice was that the technically strongest answer was not always the answer that moved an issue forward. When I spent more time understanding what the business was actually trying to accomplish, the constraints people were operating under, and why a particular outcome mattered, I could often find a legal solution that protected what genuinely needed protecting while giving the business more room to operate.

That was probably my earliest experience of something I have seen repeatedly since: empathy is not about saying yes or lowering the legal standard. It gives you more information. And more information allows you to calibrate risk and design a solution around the real problem rather than the problem as it first appears on your desk.

That lesson became more important as I took on leadership responsibilities. Effectiveness was not going to depend only on technical expertise. It also depended on understanding the people around me and helping them accomplish what they were responsible for.

The essay is, in many ways, the more mature expression of that early lesson: understanding context does not make legal judgment less rigorous. It makes it more precise.

03Included is not the same as seen

Can you recall a time, earlier in your career or while managing others, when the problem of in-house lawyers going unseen was impossible to ignore? What happened, who got seen versus unseen, and how has that shaped the way you sponsor people now?

Earlier in my career, I remember becoming very aware that inclusion can mean different things in practice. You can have different people in the room and still have a relatively narrow idea of whose experiences, perspectives, or ways of contributing are most readily recognized.

I began noticing that some people were simply easier for organizations to see. They communicated in familiar ways, followed familiar career paths, or were naturally comfortable making their accomplishments visible. Others might have been contributing just as much but were quieter, came from different cultural or professional backgrounds, communicated differently, or were less comfortable advocating for themselves.

That stayed with me because it made me realize that being included and being seen are not necessarily the same thing.

As I began managing and mentoring others, I became much more intentional about looking for the contributions that might otherwise be missed. I try to notice who is doing excellent work without drawing attention to it, whose idea may not be getting heard, or who may be ready for an opportunity before they are comfortable asking for it.

That has shaped how I think about sponsorship. Sometimes it means giving someone visibility in a room they are not in. Sometimes it means putting their name forward for an opportunity or making sure they receive credit for their work. And sometimes it is simply taking the time to understand what someone is capable of rather than waiting for them to demonstrate it in the way we are most accustomed to recognizing.

For me, that is what inclusion ultimately requires: not only creating space for different people, but continually asking ourselves whose potential or contribution we may still be overlooking.

04Where it is hardest

Since publishing that essay, when has the philosophy been hardest to live out, whether around AI, speed, or conflicting business priorities? Walk me through a decision where empathy had to coexist with rigor, and where the easier move would have been to default to pure risk-policing or pure accommodation.

One of the places where this philosophy has been hardest to live out is when someone on a team is not performing at the level the role requires.

Those situations test both sides of the equation. It can be easy to default to pure accountability: focus on the gap and move immediately to addressing it. It can also be easy, particularly when you understand that there may be context behind someone's performance, to become overly accommodating.

I don't think either approach is particularly effective.

For me, empathy means first trying to understand the nature of the gap. Are expectations clear? Does the person have the tools and support needed to succeed? Is there something about the way the team is operating that a leader needs to address? Rigor means that after asking those questions, you still remain clear about what the role requires.

I've learned that you can provide support, listen carefully, and examine your own responsibility as a leader without changing the standard. Sometimes the most respectful thing you can do is have a very clear conversation about what needs to improve rather than allowing ambiguity to continue.

That is probably where the philosophy in the essay has been tested most for me. Empathy helps me understand a situation more fully; it doesn't relieve me of the responsibility to make difficult decisions. The goal is to make those decisions with better information and with respect for the person affected by them.

05Empathy and the bar

What do legal leaders misunderstand when they treat empathy as the opposite of toughness? Where, for you, is the line between being humane and lowering the bar?

I think the misunderstanding comes from equating empathy with accommodation. They are not the same thing.

Empathy does not mean avoiding a difficult conversation, accepting poor performance, or changing the standard because holding someone accountable feels uncomfortable. It means taking the time to understand what is actually happening before deciding how to respond.

That distinction is especially important for legal leaders. If someone is struggling, for example, there can be very different reasons behind a performance gap: expectations may not be clear, the person may need additional support or development, or there may be broader circumstances affecting the situation. The standard may be exactly the same, but good leadership requires understanding the problem you are actually dealing with.

That is where the line is for me. Being humane means understanding context and treating people with dignity, including when the message you have to deliver is difficult. Lowering the bar means allowing that context to become an excuse for not addressing the issue or maintaining the standard.

In fact, I think empathy can make you a more effective and sometimes tougher leader because it removes some of the noise from difficult conversations. You can be very clear about what needs to change while also demonstrating that you understand the person on the other side of the conversation.

So I don't see rigor and empathy as competing values. The standard remains the standard. Empathy helps you apply it more intelligently.

06In a single line

If one of your team members and one of your counterparties each described your approach in a single line, what would you want each of them to say?

From someone on my team, I would hope they would say: “She expected a lot from me, but she made me feel supported, trusted, and capable of more.”

From a counterparty, I would hope they would say: “She was tough on the issues, but fair, thoughtful, and always looking for a way to get to a solution.”

I think those two descriptions are actually connected. Whether I am leading someone or negotiating across the table, I try to understand the person and the context without losing sight of what we need to accomplish. To me, empathy and high standards are not competing ideas. You can be demanding without diminishing people, and you can hold a firm position without making the relationship adversarial.