When the idea of this book first appeared in 2015, I assumed I was sufficiently knowledgeable about the concept of wellness. After all, I've worked across a wide landscape of American business and culture for several decades. I don't miss much that bursts forth from that soil. And my work on two earlier books had touched on the topic in some depth.

So, I felt equipped and ready. Surely, researching and writing a book on workplace wellness would be a simple extension of the work we did in Change Your Space, Change Your Culture. We had addressed stress, health risks, and even mentioned the emergence of well buildings. Our mission appeared straightforward: how do we adapt and bring the best of workplace strategy and design into support of workplace wellness?

I knew what to do: assemble the best and brightest from the wellness, architecture, construction, workplace, real estate, health-care, and academic worlds; convene in quarterly summits across the country; research, synthesize, and write. I knew we could move this conversation forward in significant ways. Yes, I got this.

And then it became personal.

Death of a Project; Birth of a Story

In a profound irony, reality struck as I clawed my way to a deadline for a book about health and well-being; three members of my family—my brother, my mother, and my mother-in-law—died. And my 25-year-old daughter was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS).

I had already written the chapter of despair zones when my brother stepped out of that zone and fell into a hospital bed, kept alive by artificial means. I had heard of families agonizing over the decision to end life support. But then my sisters and I had to do it.

And my mother's life was compromised by iatrogenic issues (caused by or related to medical treatment). Wow; I wrote about that in my first book. But, that's when I was an expert, a writer on a book project. The next time I encountered the word, I did so as a son. Iatrogenic medical treatment is now an integral part of my personal story.

MS was just another disease. Until it came home. That's the first time it ever brought tears. More recently a charming and wise, and very Southern, lady died several hundred miles away from our home. But she gave birth to Lisa, my wife. She was the grandmother of our children. Her singing filled our house, and her life, values, and insights are woven throughout the tapestry of our lives.

It does not take much loss to sensitize people to the losses borne by others. So, what happened while writing this book that made me stop when I heard others speak certain words or phrases? Those human sounds rose far above “research.” I had to stop and listen to colleagues, friends, and family as they described their struggles with losing family members, children battling drugs or depression, and their constant skirmishes with a dehumanizing health-care system.

My friend Charles Simpson once said, “Truth that has not been lived is stolen.” Only after I lived it, could I really see the truth of chronic disease, painful and exhausting struggles, and the human reach to be well. I never realized how hard some wrestle every day to get their bodies to cooperate so they can just get through another day. And now I understand their unrelenting need for predictable routine. And I also know the domino crash if one thing fails to follow the requisite pattern for living.

I recently attended Hope for Hemophilia, a charity event that provides support for families fighting for life against a rare disease. I had known the founder, Jonathan James, since he was in diapers. I attended the event because he is a friend and I was completely ignorant about his life or this enemy he battles daily. I was humbled and overwhelmed; I felt inadequate at every level of comprehension. My empathy could not lift me high enough to understand what it's like to live dependent on drugs that cost over $100,000 per month just to stay alive. That war, that struggle, and that weariness took on names and faces as well as revealed graces, grit, and hope.

My ability to compartmentalize turns out to be a very thin veil. I now know how easily and quickly a seam can open through that veil to a parallel universe in the lives of friends and families. I'd like to say I always had awareness of them and their situations, but I now see that wasn't true. It is now, and I am discovering how to be a more supportive friend, an encouraging colleague—someone who pauses to ask those standing near, “How are you doing?” I'm embarrassed to know the times I asked that in a perfunctory manner.

I just didn't know. I didn't know that on any given day, just staying alive can be a severe struggle.

When health and well-being, or their absence, become personal, lives change. A friend, Rich Blakeman, vice president of alliances and partnerships at Four Winds Interactive, recently explained how the personal showed up in how he viewed the terrain of health: “When I looked at the scales, my food and drink, and my exercise, I realized that I wanted to be as healthy at 60 and 70 as I was at 50. That changed my life.”

What This Means for Leaders

Leaders want happy and healthy employees. We all know that. But why do they want them? Yes, of course: ROI. Companies invest a great deal of money on wellness and engagement for that purpose. Nothing wrong with that realistic view. But does it go any deeper than that? It can and does when leaders go beyond the mechanics of their decisions, policies, and programs to see how these ripple through the lives of individuals. Without that counterbalance of personal consideration, any program, well intentioned or routine, turns into a blunt instrument that delivers components of care without ever reaching its intended goal.

How do leaders pierce the veil to prevent good intentions from having unintended negative effects? Vanderbilt's Dr. Shari Barkin sees this trap in medical academics and concludes: “We end up delivering a lot of health care without ever reaching health.” Dr. Roizen describes his “aha” with a patient who was not heeding his life-saving advice. He realized he had to move from professional prescription to human description of what he called an “empathetic positive future.” As a watchful CEO, Bob Chapman knows he must stand guard against cold rationality's continuous assaults on common sense.

Since passing through my own crucible, I go back to these pivotal statements that have become grounding. I think of them almost daily:

It is easier to spread influence with people you know.

—Dr. Nickolas Christakis

Leaders have to care, and they can't care for people they don't know.

—Bob Chapman

People feel like wellness programs are done to them, not for them.

—Al Lewis

If I could cure loneliness and depression, 70% of my worries would go away.

—Tom Emerick

We end up delivering a lot of health care without ever reaching health.

—Dr. Shari Barkin

If every leader—if you—read these statements every day, it would radically change our approach to those people who show up in our shops, factories, office buildings, courthouses, schools, and other institutions every day.

When a Workplace Cares

Our daughter Michelle recently worked for a telemarketer for school fundraising campaigns. She immediately liked the culture and the support. But in time, the pressure of making 60 calls an hour created a sensory overload for Michelle, as she struggled with her Asperger's. We watched her come home day after day, emotionally and physically exhausted. But because they provided insurance that covered her medication, Lisa and I did the best we could to coach and encourage her.

But, after a while, as she learned more about of her MS, Michelle decided to quit and find something else. But the vice president of HR knew Michelle's challenges, perhaps better than most. Because her mother has MS, she fully understood how stress triggers flare-ups. So, the VP found a solution for an employee she cared about: she opened a new position for Michelle that was not offered to anyone else. Michelle got to work from home, part-time with benefits. They praised her work and she continued to learn and receive coaching. Michelle is now excited to return to college, largely because of the added confidence from her supportive work environment. Small acts of hospitality like those shown to Michelle don't show up on spreadsheets, but have real life-changing effects.

I think I get it now. I see why our project was—and this book is—about far more than reducing health-care costs or finding a way to engage another 10% of employees in a weight loss program. Michelle's HR director treated Michelle like she would like to see her mom cared for. It was personal!

That is the kind of bridge we should all try to build in our careers and in life. But, we can't care for, or show hospitality to, people we don't know. When we offer kindness to people, we also influence their network (out to three levels). Bob Chapman, CEO of Barry-Wehmiller, certainly understands this principle. He reminds his managers that a good day at work also produces a life-giving evening at home for the family.

Bob captures this vision well: He “imagines a world where every person matters. He imagines a world full of caring work environments in which people can realize their gifts, apply and develop their talents, and feel a genuine sense of fulfillment for their contributions. Chapman imagines a world in which people leave work each day fulfilled and are better spouses, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, neighbors, citizens of the world. Because everyone—including you—matters.”¹

Does Anyone Here Care?

Many of my clients happen to be companies concerned about safety; in fact, it is a top concern. The construction industry, for example, has the “highest mean annual crude mortality rate…of all industries.”² I've sat in on several high-level conversations tackling this problem. I know the difference between sitting in a room of leaders, shuffling through stats and numbers, recommending different policies and interventions, and listening to leaders discuss people they know.

I sat in on a senior executive meeting for a global construction firm when the discussion turned to safety. The company's chief safety officer reported an increase of accidents over the past two months. The leaders, obviously concerned, drilled into the report with numerous questions:

• Do we need better training?
• Do we need an app to help remind people?
• Do we need better oversight?
• Are we conducting thorough project audits?

I agreed that those were valid questions, but then asked if they were sending a clear message that safety is really a foundational value. What I really said is, “I don't think safety is a priority for this team.” Two leaders reacted and recited the company's value statement on safety.

When the voices of disagreement finally settled, I observed the entire meeting focused on how each division president was progressing against their revenue target. But the topic of safety only raised lots of questions; it didn't produce one personal example of having a conversation with someone in the field, visiting a site, or coaching anyone on his or her safety process. Outside of the report, no one really knew how those in the field were addressing safety.

My questions tried to humanize what sounded like a scorekeeping conversation. Because the score was bad, it drew senior leadership scrutiny. I think I was able to effectively break the scorekeeping trance by reintroducing common sense. A week after the meeting the COO called and asked if I would interview an internal candidate they wanted to lead the company's safety efforts. I was skeptical because it felt like he was offloading leadership's burden of safety and checking a box by assigning it to someone down in the organization. But I learned that was not the case as soon as I talked to the candidate. My first question: “So Steve, why do you care about this position?”

Steve didn't give me reasons. He told me a story.

“On one of my first jobs as a construction manager I lost a guy. He was a good person, great team member. It should never have happened. I still think about it. I promised I would never allow that to happen on a future project of mine.”

I never got to my second question. The moment was emotional for Steve; it was emotional for me. I knew Steve. He's crusty, doesn't give a damn about spreadsheets, and would rather work in his woodshop than attend a company event. However, there is no one I'd rather have ensuring safety than Steve. He would make safety a personal and top of mind priority inside the leadership team. I told the COO he chose the right person.

It's About Being Human

At its best, leadership is social and engaging. Everyone has a stake in happiness and health. Leaders can start improving the health, happiness, and vitality of their organizations by reducing friction. “Tone at the top” refers to leaders creating an environment of honesty and integrity for improving accountability. Although it began as an accounting term, I think it is time to expand it to humanizing the workplace in general. What is the tone for a healthy culture? It starts by being human, real, approachable, interested, and grateful.

But too often we see the workplace as a zone where people must leave the best parts of themselves outside the front door. Everyone must wear the employee mask and pretend to agree, understand, be on top of it, and having a good day—for eight hours. No wonder workplaces are so stressful.

Rachel Druckenmiller, director of wellbeing for SIG, recently wrote:

Most of us have a deep fear that who we are and what we have to offer is not enough, that we won't measure up. That fear can drive and propel us to work hard and to strive. But the pressure to be “on” and productive can be relentless and exhausting. Proving ourselves at work often means sacrificing some other area of our lives, especially our relationships and our health and well-being.³

A couple of years ago, I met with several Millennials at Cummins in Columbus, Indiana. I wanted to hear what they thought of working for a blue-collar manufacturer in a small middle-America town. In one meeting, I met with five people who loved the company because they felt safe, valued, and challenged. In trying to express what she liked about working for Cummins, one of them, Kimberly, said, “The leaders here are real people, and they treat me like a real person. I can talk to them like anyone else.” She went on to describe a causal after-hours mixer at CEO Tom Linebarger's home. She was invited along with several other new employees. Most of the senior leadership team attended! If an old-line, 100-year-old manufacturing company with 55,000 employees spread across the globe can create and maintain a human touch, then anyone can. That is also how you attract and retain millennials.

Can the Workplace Be Restorative?

When Bob Fox, one of our MindShift members, visited the CBRE headquarters, he asked the CFO how he measured the ROI for their new office.

And he, a “bean counter,” replied, “Smiles.”

Patrick Donnelly, principal at BHDP Architecture, told me about an encounter between one of his designers and a client's employee in the lobby of their new office building:

A woman started calling out, “Hey! Hey”; then she caught the designer, grabbed both his hands and bubbled, “I recognize you. You designed our offices. Thank you so much for what you did. I've been working here for the last few months, and it has changed my life, saved my marriage. I left my last job because I couldn't take it anymore. The space was depressing, and no one was happy. I didn't realize how much of that I was taking home with me. I love my new home, and you were part of it.”

Incredibly, a workplace proved to be restorative, even far beyond the office where that woman worked.

Bob Chapman, CEO of Barry-Wehmiller, told me that he believes there is an intimate connection between workplace happiness and health: “We know for a fact that the way you treat people affects the way they go home and treat their spouse and their children. We know we're kind of self-destructing as a society because we're not teaching people to be stewards of others. We're teaching people to use people for economic gain. We have an opportunity to restore human dignity through good work.”

Have you noticed in recent years that the lobbies of offices and even hospitals have started looking and feeling like upscale hotel atriums? Some companies are turning receptionists into concierges: a push to bring human warmth to a cold and sterile environment. CBRE sends receptionists to the Four Seasons for concierge training. I see potential magic hidden inside this trend. It's called “hospitality,” and it's an ancient virtue that is being restored to those places where people spend so much of their time.

I felt that magic when I met Carli at GoDaddy. I arrived early to set up our summit (for this book). As our team pulled the details together, I left our workshop room and walked out into the hall. I used my Boy Scout skills to determine the direction to the supply room. That is when Carli walked up. With her face about chest high to my 5′10″ frame, she took a firm posture.

“What are you doing out of your area?”

I was caught. “I was looking for the supply room,” I stammered.

“My job is to make sure you focus on your job. Give me a list of everything you need, and I'll make sure we take care of it.”

“Really?”

That was not a one-time conversation. Carli became a mother hen to our team; she anticipated what we needed. As we were tearing down after the event, Carli walked in and asked, “What can I ship home for you?”

The Power of Hospitality

Hospes is the Latin root for guest, host, or stranger. Showing kindness, especially to strangers, is deeply rooted in ancient Greek, Eastern, and Middle Eastern Cultures. Traveling strangers had the right to expect to be taken in and treated well.

Dr. Ron Anderson, the former longtime and widely respected CEO for Parkland Hospital in Dallas, told me about Parkland's unique mission.⁴ As a county hospital, it serves those with no insurance. So, it is where society's most vulnerable go for medical treatment; it's the hospital for strangers. Dr. Anderson, knowing that “hospital” and “hospitality” share the same origin, told me the ancient text that guided his role as CEO: “Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, they may be an angel in disguise.”⁵

Bob Chapman takes this same attitude to the workplace: “Everybody is somebody's mother or father, brother or sister, son or daughter; they have the same hopes and dreams as we do for our own families.”

Hotels and restaurants are the natural stewards of those traditions. That's why they're part of what we call “the hospitality industry.” If I asked you to describe a memorable time with a close friend or family member, you're likely to tell me about a restaurant. When I ask people for restaurant recommendations, they usually tell me about a small, hidden, and intimate restaurant where the owner greets you like family and the menu is only a suggestion. The décor fit the restaurant's personality, but is seldom lavish. In fact, many describe their favorite place as a “hole in the wall.”

I once met Jeffery Pfeffer at Ecco Restaurant in Burlingame, California. Although I arrived early, the owner knew who I was. He smiled, “Let me take you to Jeffrey's table.” When Jeffrey arrived, the owner greeted him like a brother. While seating him, the owner told me why Jeffrey was such a splendid human. When it was time to order, I didn't see exactly what I wanted on the menu. Seeing my brief hesitation, the owner said, “We can make anything you like. Just tell me what you want.” That is hospitality.

Starlette Johnson, former president of Dave & Busters, told me, “Hospitality is the last industry in which you can ascend through the ranks without an advanced degree because it requires high emotional intelligence.” She said that the best servers must pick up on a person's mood and desires in order to provide a personalized and memorable experience. It's all about reading people and situations, focused listening, and being present. What comes naturally to many in the hospitality industry are rare and treasured skills. Today, they are strenuously taught in workshops, conferences, and corporations.

My niece, Janelle Weber, was the general manager for Publican Quality Meats (PQM), part of the One-Off Hospitality brand in Chicago. They are considered one of the premier restauranteurs. When visiting PQM, Janelle makes each visit memorable. For a gifted server, the menu is a living and interactive dynamic; it goes well beyond just the written document (or chalkboard, or iPad). Janelle tells a riveting story about “today's selections.” She is fully absorbed in the chef's planned adventures for that day. Her interest aroused our curiosity. After our selections, Janelle breathes a hint of some possible surprise. “Let me see what the chef is up to today.”

And, yes, surprises: a complimentary charcuterie plate, a new spread for fresh bread. “And the chef would like your opinion on this.” Well, of course!

When the food was served, Janelle made sure we had extra plates to share. The entire presentation was choreographed. We could see that Janelle took great satisfaction in watching our very animated joy. After we were full, really full, came complimentary dessert. On the way out, I got a big hug and a small bag with two fresh oatmeal cookies for her grandpa, my dad.

Perhaps the reason this has so much fascination for me is that I did not grow up in a food and family culture, where meals were integrally related to family and fellowship. Some of my Irish, Polish, and Italian friends describe every Sunday growing up as adventures in such a culture. I grew up as the oldest child in a family of two parents, two boys, and two girls. We lived in a split-level tract home in a middle-class suburb of Chicago. Because Dad traveled during the week, dinners would usually find only one or two of us at the table at the same time; we were all involved in after-school activities. Meals consisted of Ragu spaghetti, fried pork chops from an electric skillet served with applesauce, pot roast, and canned peas, corn, or string beans. We ate Wonder Bread with Oscar Meyer bologna and Kraft yellow mustard for lunch. You get the rest. Our grandparents lived in Florida and New York. We had no big family meals. Life was very good; I have no complaints at all. I'm just saying that we lived outside the old-world charm of family and food.

Many workplaces very naturally included a version of that kind of food and companionship. When I worked for Southwestern Bell in Dallas many years ago, I ate in the union lunch room, sitting next to “some of the guys.” I could see a distinct culture as they played dominos and talked hunting, fishing, and the Dallas sports teams.

That lunch room was more than a company cafeteria; it was a gathering place, an expression of classic hospitality. Over the past decades, a lot of companies lost the culture of those lunchrooms and cafeterias. Google and GoDaddy are among many who are bringing them back. In addition to well-stocked and inviting microkitchens, the chefs in the cafeterias love to create off-menu adventures for their patrons.

The Big Takeaway: It's About Leadership

Rachel Druckenmiller asked a splendid and very probing question: “Would the community around you notice if your company disappeared tomorrow?”⁶

Think about that. Here's another view of the same question: Why do neighborhoods grieve the closing of an old and favorite restaurant? Because it contributed more to the culture, health, warmth, and conviviality of a community than it ever took in payment for those grand liturgies of life at the table. The leadership—chef, restaurant owner, maître d', and sommelier—saw and pursued the magnificent vision for the restaurant as a vital and active partner in the community.

Yes, they had to make a profit in order to remain alive. But the balance sheet was simply a way of measuring the quality of their participation in the swirling communal celebrations of graduation and wedding parties, quiet anniversary dinners, family gatherings, company award presentations, power lunches, and other table-based events.

Shouldn't a place of work represent an even larger gift to the community?

To create those great workplaces that are good for people—inside and outside the company—ultimately requires active and engaged leaders. Leaders who have a personal stake in a better future together and can impart a compelling picture of what it can look like. That is the challenge. Programs, regardless of how well they are designed or written, carry no magic.

Joseph Campbell told Bill Moyers, “The influence of a vital person vitalizes.”⁷ We need vital leaders and their vitalizing influence within our times and spaces. But most are pressed, stressed, distracted, and drained by accelerating demands and disruptive forces. We live in a time that is driven by ever-increasing means but without the anchor of life-affirming ends.

Finding personal health and happiness is a continual journey of discovery and struggle. It takes on greater meaning and has more power to help or harm when wrapped inside a family, a community, or a company. The best examples we experienced saw personal challenges as a “we” journey. Too often, however, it feels like me against the machine. Health and well-being are never static; yet programmatic solutions deal with those hurdles as if they were linear, rational, binary, and unalterable.

President Eisenhower famously said, “Plans are worthless, but planning is everything.”⁸ In the same sense, it is not the programs that deliver health or well-being. It is the collective road of discovery, planning, testing, learning, and growing—together. The WELL building that CBRE built simply embodied what that office had collectively discovered, tested, and implemented together. They are still learning and changing. It is still evolving, as it should. There is no cycle of starting over when November's open enrollment comes around. Health and well-being have become the culture.

Replace the word “wellness” with “health,” and you will see how wellness can quickly take on a programmatic or bureaucratic connotation. Health, on the other hand, is personal and intimate. It seems that more leaders today are seeing their job as a calling to create a better community around their workplaces and better culture for those they lead. Those leaders and their companies form a growing list adopting the practices of firms of endearment (part of the conscious business movement),⁹ social entrepreneurs, benefit corporations,¹⁰ servant leader¹¹ organizations, or deliberately developmental organizations.¹² Their goals revolve around releasing people to discover and pursue what they do best and enjoy most. And the financial performance of most exceeds their peers.

If leadership builds a bridge to new worlds, then leaders must:

• Appreciate—give a damn about—their employees.
• Walk the talk and deliver a compelling vision.
• Take the long view.
• Build and maintain a healthy culture.
• Weed out resistance to change.
• Stand strong during good times and down cycles.
• Build an ecosystem with such excellence and strength that the culture will endure in all seasons and under new leadership.

The following sections will show you how to create a workplace that is good for people, a place that releases them to flourish. Naturally, that produces great and profitable work (ROI is a valid measurement). But it also makes them better citizens, neighbors, volunteers, parents, and cheerleaders for a thriving community.

Leadership is a high calling and in rare supply. Potential leaders, however, are too often left sitting in the wings untapped because they are not your usual suspects. The technical caretaker era of business is gone. Leadership today must also be personal.

Everyone wants to contribute. Trust them. Leaders are everywhere. Find them. Some people are on a mission. Celebrate them. Others wish things were different. Listen to them. Everybody matters. Show them. We don't just need a new guide to leading in times of change or adversity. We need a complete rethink, a revolution.¹³

When health and well-being become personal, you will find fewer answers but so much better questions. The great leaders are more interested in a thoughtful exchange and hard questions than defending decisions or practices. The companies and leaders we profile in the upcoming chapters provide a fresh tone at the top that resonates far better with their employees. Let's get set for a wellness adventure together. Through it I think you'll find answers to your questions, a framework to guide you, and examples to follow.