Meet our expert: Peter Jensen, Founder
“What Is The Olympic Experience Really Like Behind The Scenes?”
The Games begin before the Games
One of the biggest misconceptions is that pressure suddenly appears for athletes at the Olympics. It doesn’t. It accumulates long before. I used to tell athletes that the start of an Olympic year feels like walking around with an empty backpack. As the year progresses, they start putting things into it without realizing it. Expectations. Hopes. Comments from others such as “You’re the favourite” or “Don’t let us down.” None of it is meant to be harmful, but it all adds mental weight to the backpack. If athletes don’t learn how to empty that backpack, they won’t perform well when it matters. That’s why preparation must include simulation. Before major championships, we would recreate the full competition environment – crowds, judges, uniforms, even the order in which athletes compete – and then debrief it together. One of the most powerful moments for me was watching younger athletes realize that even world champions get nervous. Experience doesn’t remove pressure. It changes how you respond to it.Arrival: awe, structure, and distraction
Arriving at the Olympic Village feels a lot like taking a child to university for the first time. You step off the bus, people help with your bags, you’re shown where you’ll stay, eat, and where everything else is. Then comes the flag-raising ceremony: your anthem, your team, the first moment you fully register that you are at the biggest sporting event on the planet: the Olympics. That moment matters. It grounds you. It also amplifies everything you’re carrying. The village itself is extraordinary. You eat meals with athletes from all over the world. In the Summer Games especially, the scale is overwhelming. It’s inspiring and distracting at the same time. Learning what to engage with, and what to tune out, is part of performing well.Walking into the opening ceremonies
One of the most formative experiences I’ve had was walking into the opening ceremonies. I did it first in Calgary in 1988, and later again in Vancouver in 2010. Walking into the Games in your own country is unlike anything else. The roar of the crowd isn’t just loud – it’s personal. These are your people. The support is energizing, but it also adds another layer of expectation. My experience at the Olympics has caused me to change how I work with athletes. When I talk about the Games with them, I’m not describing something abstract. I know what it feels like in your body to be there: the adrenaline, the noise, the pride, and the responsibility, all at once. It has reinforced something I’ve believed for a long time: preparation isn’t just about skill. It’s about knowing how to respond when emotions are high and attention is pulled in every direction.The reality of daily performance
Most days at the Olympics look nothing like television. They’re built around routines: meals, practices, travel, waiting, and adjusting to constant change. Schedules shift. Buses run late. Events are delayed. Ice gets damaged mid-competition and must be resurfaced. Competing at the Olympics is largely about learning how to manage time and how to return to your routine when that time is disrupted. When delays happen, the question I always ask athletes is simple: Where would you normally be in your preparation right now? Then we go back there, mentally and physically, and continue as planned. Consistency creates stability when conditions aren’t stable.Moments you never forget
Some of the most powerful Olympic moments never make the broadcast. One that has stayed with me happened late at night in Calgary after Elizabeth Manley won her silver medal. Hours earlier, the crowd had been deafening. Now it was just the two of us walking through an underground residence tunnel. Two cleaners looked up, saw her medal, stepped aside, and quietly clapped as she passed. No cameras. No noise. Just recognition. That moment captured the Olympics better than any podium moment ever could.What leaders can learn from the Games
Behind the scenes, the Olympics are not polished or predictable. They’re demanding, human, and full of disruption. The athletes who thrive aren’t the ones who wait for perfect conditions. They’re the ones who know their routines, understand themselves under pressure, and can return to what matters when things go sideways. That lesson applies far beyond sport. High-stakes moments rarely unfold as planned. Performance, whether on the ice or in an organization, comes down to preparation, adaptability, and the ability to stay grounded when the noise gets loud. That’s the part of the Olympics you won’t see on TV. This article is part of Third Factor’s Story Behind the Story series, where we look at remarkable Olympic and Paralympic achievements and the athletes who made them happen. This time, we’re featuring Brian and Robin McKeever. Together, they’ve won 16 gold medals in Para Nordic skiing. — Brian McKeever is one of Canada’s most accomplished skiers, winning gold at every single winter Paralympics since Salt Lake 2002 (6 in a row), and is now part of the coaching team heading into Milan Cortina. Brian was 19 when he began losing his vision to Stargardt disease. He competed in Para Nordic skiing’s visually impaired category, where athletes ski at full speed but rely on a guide to navigate the course. That guide was his older brother, Robin. Robin wasn’t a helper on the sidelines – he was an elite skier in his own right. As Brian’s guide, Robin skied directly in front of him during races, setting the pace, choosing lines, calling terrain, and making split-second decisions that affected them both. If Robin made a mistake, Brian paid for it. If Robin wasn’t fast enough, they couldn’t win. To spectators, the McKeevers’ racing looked effortless: two skiers lined up and moving in sync, linked by trust and quiet communication. What wasn’t visible was how much work it took to build that easy relationship – or how important kindness was to sustaining it. Brian raced on the same courses and distances as Olympic cross-country skiers. The physical demands were the same. What differed was how results were calculated. In Para Nordic skiing, athletes are classified by disability type, and finishing times are adjusted using a percentage system, like a golf handicap. For Brian, that system created a unique challenge. Because he was in the least severe vision-loss class, his finishing time was counted at 100 per cent. Athletes with more vision loss had time removed, sometimes significantly. As a result, Brian and Robin often had to win races by minutes to win overall. Guiding made their reliance on each other unavoidable. In Brian’s category, Robin skied directly in front, choosing the line while Brian drafted behind him. The draft helped – but only if the guide was fast enough to lead. If Brian had to hold back because his guide was not skiing fast enough, there was no way he would win, which meant that Robin had to ski at a level that matched one of Canada’s top able-bodied skiers. As Brian puts it, “I’m not winning without a good guide.” This wasn’t an individual event with assistance. It was a shared performance.Kindness Is the Mechanism That Lets Standards Hold
When choosing who to work with, one thing mattered most to the brothers. “Skills can be learned,” Brian says, “but the right compatibility is [most] important.” For Brian and Robin, compatibility meant being able to handle feedback without eroding trust. It wasn’t about being agreeable, it was about keeping standards high while delivering feedback with kindness. “There could be criticisms, there can be hard conversations,” Brian explains. But when feedback came with “kindness in their hearts and how it’s being presented,” it became “much easier to listen to it and to debrief, and figure out a better way forward.” That difference mattered for learning. With trust in place, someone could say, “Hey, I think if you do something this way, you’ll be faster,” and it would be heard as help. As Brian says, “we all get better together.” Robin noticed the same effect. Strong trust meant “less micromanaging.” Standards didn’t drop; roles were clear, intentions were trusted, and learning could continue under pressure. Here’s Brian sharing about the importance of kindness to their culture:Kindness Can Raise the Bar
One of the most important moments in Brian’s Paralympic career happened because a competitor took the time to help him. Early in his Para Nordic career, Brian sometimes raced without a guide. In one event, he finished just “30 seconds behind the top guy in the world.” Afterward, the German athlete and his guide told him, “You need to have a guide, because today with a guide, you might have won.” Brian remembers thinking, “Why would another nation be helping me out on this?” The answer was simple: they were “just excited to have competition.” That advice changed Brian’s path. Because of that conversation, he asked Robin to guide him, beginning “10 years of pretty fun work racing together.” Sometimes kindness doesn’t make sport easier. It makes it better. On why others helped them out to raise the bar:Trust Is Built in the First Failure, Not the First Success
Their first World Cup together took place at the Salt Lake City Olympic course in March 2001. It was unusually warm – about 15 Celsius, Robin recalls – and the snow was wet and unpredictable. On a fast downhill, something went wrong. Robin reached the bottom and realized, “Brian’s not there.” He waited, then started hiking back up the course. He heard Brian yelling. What he saw first wasn’t Brian, but “a ski sitting off the edge of the trail.” Brian had caught an edge in the “sloppy snow,” gone off course, and ended up “hanging off of a tree upside down.” Robin climbed down, removed the skis, and pulled him back up. From Brian’s side, he stepped outside the track to get a push and hit the “mashed potatoes” snow: “My ski stopped and I kept going.” The tree became “the only thing stopping me from sliding headfirst down a steep mud slope.” He held on and waited for Robin. “I figured he’d eventually figure out I wasn’t there,” Brian says. Robin later called it “a very big failure on day one.” What mattered was what followed. “We laughed about it.” No blame. No anger. That moment set the tone. Trust wasn’t automatic – even between brothers. It was built through shared experience and protected by how mistakes were handled. Kindness showed up early, not as softness, but as steadiness. Here’s Robin sharing their early guiding failures:Autonomy in Preparation. Alignment in Execution.
The McKeevers succeeded because they didn’t pretend they were the same athlete. As Robin explains, “We have overlapping roles that work together … we have the same end goal, but we still need to arrive there in slightly different ways.” That showed up in training. “We have our own training programs,” he says. “It’s not exactly the same, but we still need to arrive at the same point where we can ski together, race together, and communicate in order to achieve a team victory.” Brian puts it plainly: “I can ski by myself. Robin can ski by himself, but he’s there to help me. And we are winning this together. We’re not doing this individually.” Giving each other space reduced friction. Coming together at the right moments kept them aligned. Trust and looking out for each other were the glue that made both possible.What Leading With Kindness Looks Like in Practice
The McKeevers’ story reveals three practical behaviours that translate directly to leadership and teams:01.
Reset without blame when something goes wrong.
02.
Deliver feedback as performance support, not personal judgment.
03.
Clarify ownership to reduce micromanagement and create alignment.
01. Reset without blame when something goes wrong
When Brian crashed off the course in Salt Lake City, the response wasn’t panic or finger-pointing. Robin described the day as a failure, but one they laughed about and moved on from. That response preserved trust in a moment where it could have fractured.02. Deliver feedback as performance support, not personal judgment
Hard conversations were unavoidable, but when framed with respect, people stayed receptive. The feedback that mattered most was specific and performance-focused: if you do this differently, you’ll be faster.03. Reduce micromanagement by clarifying ownership and alignment
Trust allowed Brian and Robin to prepare in their own way while still arriving at the same execution point. Different paths. Same outcome. This is kindness without lowering the bar: respect that keeps people engaged, paired with precision that drives improvement. In the McKeevers’ case, kindness turned trust into medals, and a partnership into a lasting competitive advantage. —- Brian will be coaching the Canadian para-Nordic team as they go for gold in Milan-Cortina starting on March 10 (see the team schedule here), while Robin will be supporting the Canadian Nordic team as a member of the coaching staff.Build Resilience In Your Organization
Bring the skills that elite athletes use to build resilience and perform under pressure to your organization. Contact us to learn more about our resilience programs.
That preparation mattered in Sochi. When pressure mounted, the team didn’t fracture emotionally. They had already agreed on how they would behave.
You Perform How You Prepare
A persistent myth about high performance – whether in athletes or business leaders – is that resilience appears when it’s needed most. The reality is simpler: it shows up only to the extent that it has been rehearsed. Months before the Olympics, Jensen met with the team before a game against a strong AAA boys’ team from Brandon, Manitoba. The discussion wasn’t about winning that night. Instead, it focused on a specific scenario they could face: being down 2-0 in the third period. The players began by talking through how they would manage the clock. “You think about it in 10-minute segments,” Jensen explains. “You break it in half … and break it down into achievable things.” He then narrowed the window. What if there were only five minutes left? Now it became two-and-a-half-minute sequences. Smaller problems. Clearer focus. The emphasis was not on emotion or outcome, but on behaviours the team could control under pressure. So when Team Canada found itself down two goals with around seven minutes left in the Sochi gold medal game, the players weren’t overwhelmed. The situation felt familiar. They had been there before and knew how to respond.
“Stay Positive” Is Not a Strategy
Another subtle but critical shift was Jensen’s refusal to let the team sidestep uncomfortable realities. When asked how they would respond individually late in a close game, players emphasized the importance of staying positive and supporting their teammates. Jensen pushed back. “The coach shortens the bench. And so you’re irritated,” he told them, adding players who weren’t getting ice time would feel frustrated and lose focus. Pretending otherwise wouldn’t make that problem go away. So the team discussed what that “irritation” might feel like and how players could still support their teammates on the ice. By talking about those moments in advance, they normalized them. Falling behind stopped being a psychological threat and became a known condition with a known response. That preparation mattered in Sochi. When pressure mounted, the team didn’t fracture emotionally. They had already agreed on how they would behave.Normalize Adversity Instead of Hoping It Won’t Appear
After the gold medal game, head coach Kevin Dineen summed up his team in a few words: They never gave up. From Jensen’s perspective, there was more to that explanation. “They didn’t give up because that’s who they were,” he says. “We’d done a lot of work on team vision and culture. But we’d also simulated what they would need to do.” The team didn’t treat adversity as an anomaly. They treated it as an inevitability. By rehearsing the moments most likely to derail them – shortened benches, frustration, time pressure – they removed surprise from the equation. And when surprise disappears, performance improves. The Sochi gold medal didn’t come from belief summoned in the moment. It came from preparation that made the moment feel familiar.Pre-Plan for Adversity
You don’t need an Olympic stage to apply these lessons. The same approach Team Canada used to win gold works in business, leadership and life. Here’s how to get started:- Identify two to three scenarios that are most likely to derail your team.
- Break each scenario into smaller, controllable steps to solve, rather than treating it as one overwhelming problem.
- Decide in advance what you will think, say, and do when those moments show up.
- Choose simple imagery or verbal cues that help ground focus and regulate emotion under pressure.
Key Insights:
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Resilience is not a personality trait; it is a trained response to pressure.
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Breaking high-stakes situations into smaller, controllable segments reduces cognitive overload and sharpens execution.
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Avoiding negative scenarios creates fragility; rehearsing them creates confidence.
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Teams perform better under pressure when they normalize adversity instead of treating it as failure.
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Preparation replaces hope with clarity.
Build Resilience In Your Organization
Bring the skills that elite athletes use to build resilience and perform under pressure to your organization. Contact us to learn more about our resilience programs.
“We can BE the best, even when we’re not AT our best.”At PyeongChang in 2018, on the other hand, “before our music even started, I felt different. I felt like a high performer, and I didn’t feel like I needed the judges’ results to prove that for me.” And contrary to the feeling after the 2010 Games, after 2018, “there was real joy and satisfaction that came from the hard work, from the pressure, from all of the things that I would’ve found totally depleting two, four, eight or 12 years earlier.” So what changed? In our conversation with Tessa, three evolutions stood out: embracing discomfort rather than focusing on the number of hours spent in training; a deliberate shift in mindset from chasing perfection to pursuing excellence; and – above all else – a reclamation of personal power.
01. Creating discomfort vs. over-training
After the over-use injuries and surgeries that characterized 2010, the comeback in 2018 was built on less training time – three hours a day instead of 12 – more recovery time, and using the limited training hours to deliberately create imperfect conditions to sharpen their resilience. Whether it was leaving the ice unflooded and chipped, pumping in crowd noise, or falling on command to practise recovery, each practice built confidence that, as Tessa says, “we can BE the best, even when we’re not AT our best.” Here’s Tessa discussing that process:02. Pursuing excellence vs. chasing perfection
In Tessa’s words, “We needed to stop chasing perfection and instead pursue excellence … and once we took perfect off the table, we thought excellence was possible.” Their daily goal became showing up at an “8 out of 10”; not in effort, but in execution. Reframing their approach unhooked them from the impossible standard of perfection and freed them to connect with the joy and challenge of consistent excellence. Listen to Tessa talk about this shift:03. Becoming drivers vs. passengers
At the heart of Tessa and Scott’s story behind the story is reclaiming a sense of agency and self-efficacy. After years of being “good little soldiers,” for their 2018 comeback, they stepped into the driver’s seat: assembling their own team, setting their own standards, and “operating as if we were the CEOs of our own business,” she says. “We had agency and autonomy, we really were steering the ship.” That changed their experience leading up to the Games and, she believes, made the ultimate win more fulfilling. Listen to Tessa talk about this shift: Of course, the effectiveness of these shifts is not limited to sports. We can all benefit from:- Increasing short-burst intensity and building time for recovery instead of focusing on hours worked or busyness as a proxy for effectiveness.
- ‘Roughing up the ice’ to build resilience into our projections, targets, pilots, and project plans instead of making plans that rely on perfect conditions.
- Embracing ‘8 out of 10’ efforts that will produce more from consistency over the long haul instead of aiming for the impossibility of perfection.
- Seeing ourselves as the author of our stories instead of allowing ourselves to fall into the mindset of being characters.
Build Resilience In Your Organization
Bring the skills that elite athletes use to build resilience and perform under pressure to your organization. Contact us to learn more about our resilience programs.
Meet our expert: Karyn Garossino, Associate Trainer
“How do you collaborate with someone who is different from you in personality, style, or approach?”
- Assertiveness: the ability to contribute and communicate your own perspective with conviction.
- Co-operation: an equal willingness to understand and integrate the other person’s view.
Diversity: The Advantage and the Risk
Differences in personality, style, and perspective are not obstacles; they are assets. Research shows that diverse teams often outperform homogeneous ones because they bring varied perspectives, unique knowledge, and deeper problem-solving capacity. However, diversity only leads to better performance when it’s managed properly. Without effective interactions, differences can amplify conflict, miscommunication, and breakdowns in cohesion. That’s the risk McKinsey and others have highlighted: diverse teams can either perform brilliantly or fail spectacularly depending on how they engage with one another. So the first step in collaborating with someone different is not to wish away those differences; it’s to welcome them, and reframe them as advantages. See differences not as barriers, but as opportunities to expand what’s possible. When someone’s style or perspective differs from yours, that’s not a threat; it’s new data. It’s an invitation to learn something new and explore another approach. To do this, you must be intentional about:- Setting aside your default approach long enough to understand how their thinking works.
- Asking questions to truly explore the other person’s priorities, assumptions, and logic.
- Active listening, where your goal is to nurture a trusting environment.
- Holding both stories as true – yours, theirs – and then creating a shared story together.
- Position yourself with the other person, not opposite them.
- Focus together on the problem, not on each other.
- Use a shared surface (whiteboard, document, screen) where both contributions and perspectives are captured and visible.
- “How do you see this unfolding?”
- “What matters most to you here?”
- “What’s your biggest concern?”
- “Where might we be missing something?”
Key Takeaways:
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Collaboration ≠ Compromise. It’s Expansion. If you’re “meeting in the middle,” you’re probably shrinking the outcome. Real collaboration grows the pie by combining strengths, not trading them off. The goal isn’t to protect your idea, it’s to create a better one together.
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Differences Are Data, Not Disruptions. When someone’s style or thinking throws you off, that’s not friction, it’s information. High-performing teams treat difference as an input to improve the solution, not a hurdle to overcome.
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Psychological Safety Is the Multiplier. Diversity only pays off when people feel safe to speak, question, and challenge. If you’re defending or persuading, you’re shutting down performance. If you’re curious and inquiring, you’re unlocking it.
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Get on the Same Side of the Table, Literally and Mentally. Opposite sides create opposition. Side-by-side creates partnership. Shift your posture, share the surface (whiteboard, doc, screen), and aim your energy at the problem, not the person. It’s a simple move that changes the whole dynamic.
When people picture elite sport, they usually imagine the glory: the medals, the anthem, the moment everything comes together. What they don’t often see is the psychological turbulence underneath those performances – the doubt, fear, shame, and self-recrimination that show up when things don’t go according to plan.
Years ago, Third Factor founder Peter Jensen was working with a Canadian national team that was, by all measures, one of the best in the world. They were perennial contenders, a program with history and swagger. And yet, in the first days of a world championship, everything came undone. They lost to their arch-rivals badly, and the shock was devastating.
We’re always navigating the gap between what is and what ought to be. That gap hurts. But the hurt is meaningful. And if we can help people explore that meaning, we unlock the very thing that allows them to grow.
By the next morning, the athletes stood in the hotel lobby looking hollowed-out. Angry. Embarrassed. Anxious. They knew the tournament was short. They knew another loss could knock them out. And they knew they were at risk of spiraling.
This is the territory we work in every day – not just in sport, but in business, education, and leadership. People experiencing disappointment, failure, or the deep discomfort of not living up to their own expectations. As psychologist Kazimierz Dabrowski wrote, we’re always navigating the gap between what is and what ought to be. That gap hurts. But the hurt is meaningful. And if we can help people explore that meaning, we unlock the very thing that allows them to grow.
What follows is how Peter helped that team turn a moment of psychological crisis into the fuel that carried them to a gold medal, not despite their negative emotions, but because of them.
01.
Acknowledge the pain and help people observe it
02.
Move toward compassion, not criticism
03.
Help them find the meaning inside the pain
1. Acknowledge the pain and help people observe it
When Peter asked the players how they were feeling that morning, they didn’t hold back: awful, embarrassed, sad, angry. A typical response might have been reassurance: You’ll be fine, shake it off, don’t worry about it. But reassurance rarely helps; it often makes people feel more alone in their emotions. Instead, Peter simply said: “Yeah. You look awful.”
It may sound blunt, but it wasn’t judgmental. It was observational. It told the players: I see you. What you’re feeling makes sense. Let’s look at it together.
When the strength coach announced they’d be doing lunges at practice, Peter asked: “How are you going to look doing lunges? How will your teammates know you’re back?” These were reflective questions not about the loss, but about how they were showing up in response to it. They invited the players to step outside themselves and observe what was happening internally. This is the first job of a coach in hard moments: Help people dis-identify from the emotion without dismissing it and let them see the feeling rather than become the feeling.2. Move toward compassion, not criticism
Negative emotions become destructive not because they exist, but because we weaponize them against ourselves. We interpret them as proof: I’m not good enough. I’ll never perform. I don’t belong here. A coach must interrupt that spiral. Peter did this in an unexpected way. That morning, a staff member had told a long, mundane story about buying a T-shirt on sale. The players had zero patience for it. Peter asked the staff member to tell the story again to the entire team. Afterwards, he asked: “Why did he buy that T-shirt?”. Eventually someone answered: “Because he got a good deal.” Peter replied: “Right. He wasn’t going to overpay. He knows what shirts are worth. You guys are overpaying right now.” No judgment. Just compassion and perspective. The point was simple: Don’t pay more than the moment is worth. You lost a game. It hurts. But don’t add interest by beating yourselves up. A coach helps people see the whole truth, not the narrow, distorted version they’re stuck inside.3. Help them find the meaning inside the pain
That afternoon, the team played a weaker opponent and won only 2–0. Instead of relief, they felt further proof that they were failing. So Peter gathered them and asked each player to share what it meant to represent their country. What surfaced were stories of parents driving endless hours to practices, communities fundraising to support them, comebacks from injury, and dreams that had taken years to build. It was emotional. And it was clarifying. The problem wasn’t that they had lost a game. The problem was that they weren’t living up to what the opportunity meant to them. And when people reconnect with meaning, they reconnect with agency. They can choose how to move forward. From that point on, Peter reinforced that meaning daily: At practice: “An American player woke up today preparing to face you in the gold medal game. How are you preparing?” In the weight room: “Can you improve 1% today? What will you do to show you’re getting better?” By naming their pain and understanding its purpose the team turned the emotional energy inward, toward growth instead of self-attack. They never lost another game. They won the gold medal.When negative feelings become a weapon
Negative emotions are not the problem. What hurts performance is when people interpret those emotions as evidence of inadequacy: “I failed, therefore I’m a failure.” This is the voice of the critic – a destructive internal narrator that convinces us we’re incapable of growth or unworthy of success. A coach’s role is to challenge that voice by asking better questions:- What is this feeling signaling?
- What is the conflict between what is and what ought to be?
- And what does this moment make possible?
The takeaway for leaders and coaches
Whether you’re leading a national team or a project team, the principles are the same:- Acknowledge negative feelings without trying to eliminate them.
- Help people step back and observe their internal state.
- Guide them toward understanding what the discomfort is pointing to.
Meet our expert: Garry Watanabe, Principal Trainer & Sport Lead
“What is the difference between leadership and coaching?”
The insight: It’s about who chooses the destination
Leadership is about having a vision, enlisting others, keeping the group on course and sustaining motivation on the journey. Coaching is about helping someone clarify their destination, navigate their obstacles, and keep going when the waters get rough. Is there overlap? Of course. Am I missing something? Almost certainly. Both leadership and coaching are about movement – helping people go from here to there. The question is: who chooses the destination?Key Takeaways:
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Leadership is about setting a vision, mobilizing people, and sustaining group motivation toward a shared goal.
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Coaching focuses on helping an individual move from where they are to where they want to go: clarifying goals, removing barriers, and offering support.
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Leadership involves choosing direction and rallying others; coaching helps someone articulate their own destination and progress toward it.
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Both involve movement and growth, but differ primarily in who defines the goal.
“The Kingdom of Prep” chronicles the evolution of J.Crew, charting its rise from a modest mail-order catalog in 1983 to a powerhouse in American fashion. Drawing on interviews with insiders and industry experts, Maggie Bullock offers a vivid portrait of the brand’s ascent, its cultural significance, and the hurdles it faced in a rapidly shifting retail landscape. Blending fashion, business, and cultural commentary, The Kingdom of Prep provides a compelling look at how a brand can both influence, and be influenced by, the cultural zeitgeist.
“From the Ashes” by Jesse Thistle is a powerful memoir of abandonment, addiction, and survival. Thistle’s journey from homelessness to becoming a celebrated scholar offers a raw, inspiring look at the resilience of the human spirit and sheds light on the struggles faced by Indigenous peoples in Canada. I recommend it because engaging with Canadian history through the lived experience of a Canadian author offers a meaningful and intellectually enriching way to deepen my understanding of my country’s complex social and cultural landscape. Jesse Thistle is Métis-Cree, from Prince Albert, Saskatchewan. He teaches Métis Studies at York University in Toronto, where he lives. He won a Governor General’s Academic Medal in 2016, and was a Pierre Elliot Trudeau Scholar and a Vanier Scholar.
With all the greenery of summer, what better time is there to connect to our literal and figurative roots! Feghali’s book offers a captivating journey into cultural history and ancestral herbalism of the Levant (the “Middle East”). Through beautifully woven stories of folk healing and plant medicine, her book provides a unique and slightly esoteric lens for understanding the often unseen yet profound connection many folks we lead and coach have with their cultural homelands. It’s a great summer read for those seeking an insightful yet gentle exploration of identity belonging, and the powerful ties between peoples, plants, herbs, and ancestral lands.
“10x Is Easier Than 2x” challenges the idea that success comes from working harder and making small improvements. Instead, Hardy argues real success comes from thinking bigger, focusing on what truly matters, and making bold, transformative changes. The book offers a strong core message: aiming for 10x growth requires letting go of the familiar and concentrating on your unique strengths. It encourages you to let go of what’s “good” to pursue extraordinary goals. It offers an inspiring roadmap for breaking through limitations and achieving extraordinary results. It’s a perfect summer read, where the season offers us the time to have the capacity and energy for reflection and renewal, making it a great time to narrow your focus, gain clarity, and embrace the idea of doing less to achieve so much more.
“Challenger” is a tour de force. Author Adam Higginbotham manages to combine a thoroughly researched history of the US space program, culminating in a minute-by-minute breakdown of the Challenger disaster, with deeply personal portraits of both the astronauts and NASA pioneers. Throughout, he shows how the pressure to deliver can warp decision-making, change the way we think about risk and, ultimately, lead to catastrophe – even amongst hugely intelligent and well-meaning groups of people. It’s the rare non-fiction book that is both a gripping, narrative-driven story and also deeply insightful.
In the theme of all that is old is new again, this summer I’ll be reading “The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy” by Douglas Adams. After 40 years of friends, family and co-workers commenting on the deceptive brilliance (and humour) of this book that has fathered a thousand memes – it’s time for me to take the plunge and see what the fuss is still about. If it lives up to its hype, then maybe it’s time for me to cue up the similarly hyped “The Wire” on my appropriate streaming service. The added bonus of my selection is that I have no shortage of people willing to lend me a copy.
Historical fiction is the means by which I travel and learn when my feet are up in the summer. If you love a literary escape too, this substantial read is incredibly satisfying. With a backdrop of political unrest in Ethiopia, then healthcare in the USA, this immersion into the world of medicine is an emotionally compelling family epic. Through a complex web of life stories it is deeply informative about the human condition, our strengths and deficits, and how destinies unfold through tragedy, compassion and expertise. The author is a medical doctor and Stanford professor whose writing is detailed, realistic and moving. This ranks as one of my favourite novels ever.
So many of our conversations feel highly charged these days, like we’re all one comment away from a full-blown debate. In “Outraged”, psychologist Kurt Gray explores why moral outrage has become such a dominant part of public life and what it reveals about human nature. Without minimizing the seriousness of injustice or pretending we can all just “get along,” Gray looks at why we react the way we do to controversial issues, and how our brains are wired to divide the world into heroes and villains. It won’t solve polarization overnight, but it just might help us talk about divisive issues with a little more empathy and a little less heat.
“Sound Man” is a fun and entertaining journey through rock and roll history as told through the eyes of legendary producer and recording engineer Glyn Johns. Johns recorded some of the most famous rock albums of all time by the biggest names in music. His tone is refreshingly no-nonsense, often tinged with dry British wit which I so enjoy. Three rather unexpected reminders I took away from the book were: 1. The value of making connections: never shy away from meeting new people 2. Always be ready to improvise: the ability to think on your feet can be helpful in any situation, 3. Don’t make assumptions: always better to ask than assume.
This summer as I have time to think more deeply, the book I am going to dive into is The Good Fight by Liane Davey. This book challenges the myth that great teams are conflict-free and instead shows how healthy, productive conflict is essential for trust, innovation, and performance. Liane Davey offers practical tools to help you surface tough issues, navigate disagreement with respect, and build a culture where real collaboration can thrive. This book promises to shift how you think about conflict, and teach you how to harness the underlying energy to make changes and gain greater clarity, courage, and connection. If you are also reading it this summer – please share with me the points that most resonate with you and why. I love hearing real stories and examples from the brilliant minds I have the pleasure of connecting with.
I highly recommend “When The World Fell Silent,” a great fictional story that centres on the very real Halifax explosion of 1917 – which was the most powerful explosion in world history until the nuclear blasts at the end of World War II. Weaving multiple intertwined storylines together, it is a terrific mix of history and story-telling that is both moving and fascinating.
“The Culture Map” is one of those books I wish someone had slipped into my backpack years ago. It’s a smart and practical guide to navigating the often invisible cultural differences that shape how we communicate, give feedback, make decisions, and lead in global teams. Back in my days as an athlete, I traveled the world thinking I was pretty adaptable, until I found myself confused in a dozen different languages, misreading cues, and wondering why what worked in one country totally flopped in another. It turns out that “figuring it out as you go” is not a solid cross-cultural strategy (who knew?). Fast-forward to today, I see similar dynamics playing out in the global teams I support. The same awkward moments, just with more Zoom calls and fewer passports. Erin’s book sheds light on why those bumps might be happening and offers a clear, often entertaining way to understand and navigate them. Her stories are relatable, funny, and a little too familiar at times!
If you like a book with great characters, lots of heart and humour along with big doses of hope for the human race this is a great novel; one of my favourites of the year. I found it completely captivating, insightful, and heart warming. It is almost impossible to relay ‘the story’ – there are so many subplots. It is about the lives of people living in a small, poor community made up of European immigrants and Black Americans in the thirties. Their community borders a white, Christian town. There is a mystery to be solved, a boy to be saved, and a community of characters that elevates humanity in spite of our diversity, oddities, and flaws. An underlying moral compass around facing life’s challenges, augmented with some mischief, pervades the book, all relayed with a wonderfully non judgemental perspective and a light touch.