Dr. Becky Kennedy on Why Parenting Principles Work on Difficult Adults

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Overview

Can a child psychologist teach anything useful about leadership? Host Lenny Rachitsky opened this episode half-joking that many adults at work behave like toddlers: they hoard resources, insist on getting their way, and need others to fix things for them. Dr. Becky Kennedy, clinical psychologist, author of Good Inside, and CEO of the parenting company of the same name, takes a more generous position. In Kennedy's view, families, workplaces, marriages, sibling relationships and extended families over the holidays are all systems, and "all humans need the same things. Whether we're one or five or 45 or 85." When those needs go unmet, people of any age express themselves in ineffective ways. Principles that explain behavior in one system can therefore be applied to another, and Kennedy describes that as an efficient way to learn: master one approach and use it at home and at work.

36 min read

The conversation covered repair, connection, separating behavior from identity, generous interpretation, boundaries, "sturdy" leadership, resilience, and a phrase Kennedy considers central to handling anxiety in anyone: "I believe you, and I believe in you."

8:47

Repair matters more than perfection

Kennedy calls repair "the number one relationship strategy we have." She defines it as going back to someone after a moment you're not proud of, taking responsibility for your part, acknowledging the impact on them, and saying what you'll do differently next time. According to Kennedy, what stops people from repairing is the false belief that the goal is to be perfect. Her family has a saying that they now also use at work: "perfect is creepy." Only non-humans can be perfect. To be human is to want to do well and to fall short again and again.

The idea came from something Kennedy learned in clinical psychology graduate school. A professor explained that what distinguishes secure attachment, the kind of relationship a parent wants with a child, is the presence of repair. Kennedy remembers stopping short at this. Secure attachment did not mean getting it right all the time. It meant an adult who is willing to repair after the inevitable mistakes. That felt hopeful because it was something Kennedy could realistically get good at.

She gave parallel scripts for home and work. To a child: sorry I yelled, I had a stressful day at work, that wasn't your fault, and I'm working on staying calmer even when I'm upset. To a colleague: earlier in the meeting I cut you off and used a harsh tone; I did disagree with you, but that's no excuse for how I talked to you; things were going on before the meeting; I'm sorry and I'm working on it. In Kennedy's view, nothing restores trust and connection like repair. Once they are restored, children and coworkers cooperate better, and conversations stop running on defensively, so more gets done.

11:11

Connect before you correct

Rachitsky compared Kennedy's principle of "connecting before correcting" to Kim Scott's Radical Candor. Kennedy illustrated it with a scene from outside both parenting and work. Her three kids are finally asleep and she has sat down with a book for the two minutes before she passes out. Her husband walks in and says they have to do the taxes. When she protests, he tells her she has a listening problem and that he's taking away her dessert for a week if she doesn't cooperate. Nobody, Kennedy says, would conclude she has a listening problem. They'd say she has a husband problem. Yet adults do exactly this to kids, and people do it at work all the time.

Now suppose he says instead that he just realized he forgot to mention the taxes are due tonight, that he can see she's settling in with the book, and asks whether they can tackle it together as a team. Kennedy says the odds that she'll do the taxes "just skyrocketed." The reason is that he sees her as a full person in her own reality, not as an object in his world. By joining her world, he builds a bridge she can walk back across to work on his priority. For Kennedy, connection is therefore not a soft topic. It is what lets two people act in the same interest, and she calls it the foundation of cooperation at home and productivity at work.

When Rachitsky asked how to put this into practice, Kennedy said the first step is a mindset, and admitted that sounds annoying to people who want a script. Her reasoning is that "we feel people's intention, not just their intervention." If she chatted with Rachitsky about his life purely to get him to water her plants, he would sense the transaction and it would feel "dirty." Real connection means being present without an agenda, even for 30 seconds. She acknowledged this is hard for her too.

In practice, the moments are small. You put your hand on your child's back for longer than feels natural. You say "I'm happy to see you" and nothing else. You describe what your kid is doing ("you're making a tall tower") instead of peppering them with questions or taking over their play. At work, you ask about someone's long weekend without counting down the seconds until you can assign the week's tasks.

Kennedy was candid about her own struggle. She sees efficiency and relationship-building as often in opposition. Efficient people get rewarded for it at work, and they can develop a sense of moral superiority about it, wanting others to "get to the point" when the whole point for the other person is telling the story. Kennedy says her best time with her kids feels "so low stim" that she wonders whether she's doing it right, and she takes that feeling as a sign that she is. Rachitsky added that the most effective people he has worked with are the ones who really listen and never seem rushed.

17:48

Separating behavior from identity

Rachitsky asked whether the "good inside" principle, that kids are good inside regardless of their behavior, holds at work. Kennedy said it is useful there, but first addressed a common misunderstanding. Believing a child is good inside does not mean hitting is fine. Believing an employee is good inside does not mean late PRDs don't matter. The concept requires separating behavior from identity.

Kennedy argues that most personal and interpersonal difficulty comes from collapsing the two. People infer character from conduct: someone is often late to work, so they must be lazy. The good-inside framing starts from a different sentence: "This is a good person who is late," or "I have a good kid who's hitting." Kennedy uses her hands when she says this, one hand for identity and one for behavior, because physically separating them helps her mind keep them apart. She says that separation is, ironically, what makes it possible to change the behavior.

Her explanation of defensiveness follows from this. People get defensive because they believe someone is talking about their identity rather than their behavior. Once that happens, the conversation can't address the actual reason for the lateness. A hidden debate takes over about whether the person is good, moral and worthy. "The quickest way to have an unproductive conversation is to lose sight of the fact that someone's good inside."

She offered a script for the chronically late colleague. Start by saying you're on the same team. Kennedy said that if listeners take away only this, it is "the most amazing way to have a more productive conversation with anyone." Say that you know they're a good person, that they don't need to be told meetings must start on time, and that the consistent lateness tells you something is going on that you want to understand. Then ask directly whether it's something at work that makes them not want to come in, something at home, or time management, and propose figuring it out together.

Kennedy compared this to a good sports coach. No good coach tells a player who missed every layup "what's wrong with you." They say: you're a good player, something's off, let's get in the gym tomorrow. They might still bench the player for now, but the message is "I believe in you" and "we'll figure this out together." If a manager does not actually believe the person is capable, Kennedy said, that is a very different conversation and belongs in a different category.

22:21

The "most generous interpretation"

Kennedy says she has "an allergy to ideas that don't have action," so she wanted a concrete tool for the good-inside idea. She found it after hard days with her young children. Lying in bed at night, she noticed that the way she described her kid had made her stop liking him, even though she always loved him. Referencing Rachitsky's episode with Peter Deng about language shaping thought, Kennedy put it this way: "The story you tell yourself about your kid at night kind of becomes the parent you are the next morning." She suggested the same probably holds for leaders and their organizations.

She recognized she was defaulting to a "least generous interpretation." When her two-year-old laughed during discipline, her first thought was that he might be a sociopath. When she told him to stop jumping on the couch near a glass table and he jumped harder, the same thought came up. So she started asking herself for the most generous interpretation (MGI). There's no single right answer. In this case, it might be that her third child strongly needs to feel in control and doubles down when that feels threatened. She describes him as "0% people pleasing," so telling him "I'm disappointed in you" was never going to work.

Using MGI changed three things for Kennedy. She liked her kid again, which she says parents rarely talk about even though it is what keeps them up at night. She felt they were on the same team. And she came up with a whole new set of interventions.

At work, she imagined a colleague who keeps belaboring a point in meetings after everyone has moved on. The least generous reading is that they're being a baby or vain. A generous reading might be that they didn't feel heard the first time. That doesn't make it acceptable to go on forever. But it suggests a private conversation: in meetings, I wonder if you don't always feel heard, so you keep talking, the room gets annoyed and tunes you out, which probably makes you belabor your point more. We're in a bad cycle; can we work on it together? Kennedy says one conversation like that replaces endless complaining and no change, which she calls "horrible for culture and productivity."

She tied this to curiosity over judgment, which she considers mutually exclusive: you cannot be curious and judgmental about the same thing at once. She doesn't insist on her own phrasing. "Assume positive intent" or any other language that "hits your heart" works. She also suggests assuming the other person wants to work through the problem with you. A child who hits doesn't like feeling out of control, and a child lying to your face doesn't want to be lying. That doesn't excuse the behavior, but it softens you enough to see that you want the same outcome.

27:10

Bad behavior as feelings that overpower skills

Rachitsky pushed back. As a parent, it doesn't feel like his son doesn't want to throw things or resist getting in the car. Kennedy answered with some professional history. She was originally trained in rewards, punishments, timeouts and sticker charts, and says she loved it because her "very healthy left brain" likes logic and linearity: punish the bad, reward the good. She taught that to parents in private practice because it felt clean. But it contradicted everything she saw helping the adults in her practice change their lives. She could not believe that what helps a 35-year-old rewire their brain would be the opposite of what a two- or five-year-old needs to become resilient and confident. She said that contradiction is what led her to start Good Inside.

She also questions the phrase "you're making a bad choice." She does not believe a four-year-old deliberates about whether to throw something at a sibling, and she notes that adults who act out aren't in a decision-making state either. They escalate. Her core insight is that kids are born with all the feelings and none of the skills to manage them, so "bad behavior at any age can basically be reduced to feelings that overpower skills." The behavior is a real problem, but it's a symptom. The underlying problem is a missing skill for managing something internal, such as anger that a sibling has a toy or jealousy they can't handle. If the skill were there and accessible, the behavior would change as a result.

Seeing it this way turns a parent into a coach. Kennedy's analogy: nobody would punish a child into learning to swim, or send them to their room to come back once they can swim. Managing emotions, she argues, is an even more important life skill, and "nobody learns new skills by being sent to their room. Nobody learns new skills by adding shame." Shame widens the gap between feelings and skills. The right approach is to set boundaries around out-of-control behavior and then teach the missing skills. According to Kennedy, that changes behavior in the short term and "massively" in the long term.

31:20

What potty learning reveals about control

Rachitsky mentioned he was starting "potty learning" with his son through an online course that avoids the word "training" for this same reason. Kennedy pointed out that Good Inside offers a free potty course. She says she wanted it free because potty learning is one of the earliest lessons in body autonomy and skills, and parents most often go wrong by taking over the process.

Asked what the workplace parallel is, Kennedy said young children control only two things: what goes into their body and what comes out. That's why those areas get so heated. When a child, especially one who isn't a people pleaser, senses a parent stepping into one of their only two domains, they'll do "nutty things" to push back. She asked listeners to imagine the first ten minutes of a child's day: woken up, told the weather, told they can't wear that, told what's for breakfast, told their shirt is on backwards. If her husband woke her that way, she says, she'd spend the day grabbing control wherever she could.

Kennedy describes a temperament she calls "resilient rebels": kids who look strong-willed and defiant, whose core fear is loss of control, and who resist the moment they sense someone stepping into their domain. Adults can be like this too, and they can be hard to collaborate with. If asking to move a meeting gets a reaction as if "I took a knife to their heart," she suggests looking one level deeper. She was clear this example was hypothetical: maybe someone was promoted over them, their manager just changed, or their vacation was denied, and control and independence are the real issues.

Rachitsky proposed clarifying ownership: what someone drives and where the manager will be involved. Kennedy agreed and added a practice she values: naming your intention. For example: I want to go through this project in detail because I want to get ahead of some things, and I think that will help you do the most independent work. When you state your intention clearly, people tend to read your behavior through it. That matters most with people prone to feeling controlled. They both noted this is part of why people dislike micromanagement.

35:43

The sturdy leader and the three pilots

Kennedy says Good Inside's core purpose is to help parents become "sturdy leaders" so they can raise sturdy, confident kids. She likes the word because it evokes an image, and most people can immediately picture the sturdy person in their life.

She explains it with a turbulent flight. Everyone is screaming, and the pilot makes one of three announcements. In the first, the pilot says to stop freaking out because you're ruining the flight and making a big deal out of nothing. That doesn't calm anyone. Passengers worry the pilot hasn't noticed the turbulence and are unsettled that screaming makes the pilot lose it. At work, this is the leader who tells people to stop complaining.

In the second, the pilot opens the cockpit door and asks if anyone else wants to fly because the screaming is making them anxious. Kennedy calls this a massive overcorrection she has seen in parenting, where a child's feelings dictate the parent's decisions, and she stressed this is not what Good Inside teaches. Passengers are now afraid of the pilot, not the turbulence. At work, it's a leader who responds to complaints by turning a leadership decision into a consensus vote. Kennedy says some decisions are properly made by consensus, but others belong to the person with information no one else has.

In the third, the pilot says: I hear you screaming, it makes sense, you haven't flown as much as I have, and yes, it's very bumpy. I know what I'm doing, and this turbulence doesn't scare me. I'm going back to fly the plane and I'll see you in Los Angeles. The turbulence is the same, but passengers can breathe because their worry is contained. Kennedy names two parts of sturdiness: seeing someone else's experience as real for them, and holding onto your own experience so you aren't overwhelmed by theirs.

At home, that sounds like: I'm turning off the TV, that's my decision, I get that you're upset, I don't love ending TV time either, we'll get through it. Then you wait out the reaction before moving on to brushing teeth. At work, announcing an unpopular policy change (her invented examples were vacation days or days in the office) sounds like: I know some people will have a reaction; this is a big change and you're right that it makes things harder; your feelings make sense; here's why we're doing it; I have faith in us to weather this turbulence.

41:06

Boundaries are what you do, not what you ask for

Kennedy says a sturdy leader has two jobs. The first is setting boundaries, meaning decisions and limits that come from a position of authority, usually in service of a long-term goal others can't see or, in a toddler's case, can't hold onto. The second is validating the other person's experience without being taken over by it. She believes parenting has drifted too far toward validation, and says so explicitly: "validating kids' feelings is an incomplete parenting approach." It's half the job, and it fails without the other half. Boundaries are the skill she feels best about teaching because she thinks it's what people most often lack.

Her definition is meant to be immediately testable: "Boundaries are what you tell someone else you will do. And it requires the other person to do nothing." When people say their child or colleague doesn't respect their boundaries, Kennedy usually thinks they're actually making requests. Requests are fine, but calling a request a boundary hands your power to the other person because success depends on them. She tells parents, "I would bet on you any day over your kid."

Her example comes from her New York City apartment building. Her non-people-pleasing son would press every elevator button if allowed. "Please don't press all the buttons, other people are waiting" is a request: it doesn't say what she will do, and it depends on the child. The boundary is: "I'm going to stand between you and the buttons, sweetie, because I'm not going to let you press them." If he lunges anyway, she blocks him, and if he's upset, she can do the other half of the job, either saying "I know you wish you could press those buttons" or just looking at him kindly, while holding the boundary. The common alternative is threatening "no dessert," getting frustrated, and then serving sorbet at night on the grounds that fruit doesn't count. Kennedy says all of that undermines authority and comes from not setting a boundary in the first place. She calls asking a child to do the parent's job to avoid emotional fallout "job confusion."

Rachitsky asked about his own situation: a child who won't get into the car. Kennedy suggested trying a game or song first, then being clear about intention. She carries the child not to punish, but because otherwise she'll run late, get frustrated, and yell. She suggested something like: it looks hard for you to get to the car; I'm going to turn around and take a deep breath, and if you're still here when I turn back, I'll carry you, even if you're crying and kicking; I know leaving the house is hard sometimes, but we have to go.

She warned against expecting a reward for good parenting in the form of a child who suddenly announces they're ready. That may happen in some homes, but it won't happen reliably until boundaries have been set many times. Children aren't exploiting you. They're learning the rules. Two of her three children would scream and cry at that point. She returned to the pilot: if a pilot announced an emergency landing and then called it off because passengers were upset, everyone would be horrified. Even people complaining in Kansas would be grateful underneath. So when a new boundary produces a tantrum, Kennedy recommends reading it as evidence the boundary is working. She tells herself, "this is going according to plan."

49:35

Why people want a leader they can "locate"

Rachitsky asked whether people, both kids and employees, fundamentally want to be led instead of polled. Kennedy said both things are true. Consensus has its place, but leaders hold positions because of their experience, judgment and access to information others lack. She thinks parenting has overcorrected toward consensus and said she would need more data to know whether workplaces have too. She believes people respond well to something like: I've taken in everything you said, your voices matter, here's the decision I've made with all the information I have, it may not make sense to everyone now, come talk to me separately, and I have conviction that this is our next experiment.

She describes herself as drawn to people she can "locate," people whose feelings and point of view are clear. She prefers that even when she strongly disagrees, rather than being around people who mirror her. As someone with many strong ideas, she says she has learned she needs people who push back. At work, a leader who can be located and can say "this might not be what you want, but I believe it's the best decision" is, in her words, "very, very holding," though not in every situation.

52:44

A teenager's betrayal

Kennedy told a story from private practice that shaped this thinking. In a first session, a teenager showed Kennedy her arms and said she had been cutting for two years. Kennedy asked why this was her first therapist. The girl explained, snarkily, that her parents had tried to send her two years earlier, but she told them, "So you think I'm the messed up one in the family," and said she'd just lie the whole time and waste their money.

Kennedy says her heart still races remembering it. Something told her to stay quiet. After ten or fifteen seconds, the girl looked down, then up, and said: "Can you believe they let me make that decision?" Kennedy says the girl felt betrayed and uncared for. Kennedy took two lessons from it. At our worst moments, "we speak our fears, not our wishes." And at our worst moments, we are not in a good position to make decisions for ourselves. People don't want to be punished, but sometimes taking a decision out of someone's hands is an act of love.

She now gives parents of teens who refuse therapy a script along these lines: I'm going to drive you to therapy every Thursday; whatever you do in the room, lie or stay silent, is not on me; my job is to make decisions that are good for you even when you're unhappy, and this is one of those times. Kennedy reports that every parent who has told her they did this said their child, on some level, needed it. At work, she compares it to turbulent periods when people are anxious and waiting for someone to say: I've heard everything, here's what we're doing. She added that a leader can even admit they aren't completely certain, commit anyway, and plan to reassess in a month.

Rachitsky suggested that people will take whatever they can get away with. Kennedy responded with a more generous reading, using the Broadway play Punch. As she described it, the play is based on a true story of a man whose punch in a bar killed someone, and who later got to know the victim's parents after serving his sentence. When they asked what he would do with his life now, he said no one had ever asked him that or believed he could do anything useful. Kennedy thinks that when kids or adults seem to be "getting away with" things, they may really be asking whether there is an adult in the room who will help. In her view, kids act out more not to take advantage but because they feel more dysregulated when no adult will "put a container on their shell-less egg."

57:13

Resilience over happiness

"Resilience over happiness" is a chapter in Kennedy's book and a guiding principle of her approach. She admits she used to spoil small talk when people said "don't you just want your kid to be happy?" by answering no. She doesn't want her kids unhappy, but she argues that "optimizing for happiness in childhood is the quickest way to build anxiety and fragility in adulthood."

Her reasoning is that childhood is when kids learn what range of experiences they can cope with and in how many situations they can find their capability. What crowds out happiness in adulthood, she says, is the inability to manage disappointment, jealousy, anger and feeling less than. Happiness comes from being able to handle the widest range of difficult experiences, which is her definition of resilience. When a child says "I'm the only one in my class who can't read" and a parent jumps in with "that's not true" or "but you're so good at soccer," the parent is signaling they can't tolerate the child's upset. "Our kids can only learn to tolerate the feelings we tolerate in them." A child whose upset isn't tolerated concludes the feeling is unmanageable. As an adult, anything short of comfortable, happy and perfect then feels even worse. Between "no big deal" and "let me call the school to fix this," Kennedy says, there's a wide space where parents can help kids see they can cope.

Rachitsky connected this to a Kim Scott story. A manager withheld feedback from a struggling employee to avoid hurting their feelings, then fired them nine months later, and the employee asked why nobody had said anything. Kennedy offered a building metaphor. The first months of a working relationship are its foundation, and optimizing for comfort makes the building fragile. At six months, critical feedback hits someone who assumed the relationship was "butterflies and rainbows." She doesn't recommend listing faults on day one, but a resilient culture needs people who say "this is hard and I can do hard things," not "this is hard, so someone must be at fault and it should be easier."

1:02:43

"I believe you, and I believe in you"

Kennedy's formula for anxiety and struggle at any age combines two messages, and she argues the second is often missing. The "I believe you" half validates: this is a hard project, you've never done anything like it, it makes sense you're nervous. She recommends "it makes sense" as a phrase, along with one she uses with her kids: "I'd be nervous if you weren't nervous." The "I believe in you" half conveys confidence: we gave you this because we know you can figure it out, I'm here for questions, and I don't want to take the project away from you because that would take away the pride you'll feel at the end.

She described a day when one of her young sons was whining for her to finish a puzzle. Doing it would have ended the tantrum, but she had some extra bandwidth that day. She told him it was a hard puzzle, frustration made sense, and he could take a break. Then she explained why she wouldn't do it for him: there's no better feeling than watching yourself make progress on something you didn't think you could do, "and I will not take that feeling away from you." She said saying it felt healing for her as well. Parents and leaders, she said, should notice how often they take feelings of capability away from others.

Rachitsky said he had used "I believe you" with his wife, who asked him afterward what he had just done because it felt so good. Kennedy offered an image. Someone struggling is in a hole, not an abyss, and struggling because they can't see the way out. As a relational species, what we need is someone with one foot in the hole with us, which is "I believe you," and one foot out, which is "I believe in you," seeing a more capable version of us than we can see at that moment. Her example was a kid attending the first soccer practice after losing their starting spot. It'll be embarrassing and not fun, they'll hate watching from the sideline, and they'll come home having survived. She'll be there with a hug, maybe prouder of that than of a goal, because that's what helps in life.

She suggests people ask which half comes more easily to them, with no moral judgment attached. Someone who says "come on, it's no big deal, you can do it" leads with belief in; someone who climbs into the hole with others leads with belief. Knowing which you default to shows you what to practice.

1:09:12

Building Good Inside

Kennedy posted her first Instagram post on February 28, 2020, about two weeks before New York City shut down. She says she had no business plan and no premonition about COVID. She felt compelled by ideas that differed so much from what had been handed down as truth that posting felt "more like relief than intentional goal setting." After the shutdown, the account grew quickly. She began live workshops because she had more to say than a carousel post allowed, and she says the community that formed matters more than any of her individual ideas.

Community members suggested the "parent school" concept, pointing out they had spent more on gardening, cooking or Greek history than on learning to parent. Kennedy believes parenting is the last area where society glorifies instinct alone. She calls the "maternal instinct" framing a way to "gaslight parents," acknowledging this may be a little controversial. Instinct, she says, is just everything learned so far, which in parenting mostly means how you were parented. Left to instinct, she says, her response to a tantrum or a lie "is not going to be pretty." She describes podcast and social media tips as "flags" that need "ground," meaning a framework, or else parenting becomes whack-a-mole in a way people would never accept at work or even in tennis.

She describes the app as a personalized tool meant to narrow the gap between how parents want to show up and how they actually do. Parents describe their situation and receive short pieces, around five minutes, that combine understanding with an action. Core themes include boundaries, staying connected without exhausting yourself, communication with a partner, repair, and understanding why your nervous system gets activated. There's also an AI chatbot, which Rachitsky identified as "Gigi," that can spot common themes across incidents. Kennedy says she does two or three live events a month, and trained coaches run support sessions based on a manualized Good Inside approach, including unlimited monthly sessions for parents of deeply feeling kids. Kennedy said the company has 65 people, is profitable, and raised money a couple of years ago because of a large vision. She described it as a potential "Disney type ecosystem" built on IP, story and connection, with plans for 2026 and 2027.

Her second children's book, Leave Me Alone!: A Good Inside Story About Deeply Feeling Kids, is due in February 2026 and is available for pre-order. Kennedy calls these kids her "passion project within the passion project" and "the most misunderstood kids in the world," often labeled dramatic or oppositional, with parents sometimes told the problem is inconsistent punishment. Where resilient rebels fear loss of control, deeply feeling kids fear being too much. They push away the people they care about most at exactly the moments they need them, which confirms the fear. "Leave me alone," screamed from a bedroom, is their deepest fear rather than their wish, which is where the title comes from. She says adults sometimes recognize a partner or coworker in the description.

1:16:39

Using AI to make ideas visible

In the AI segment, Kennedy tied her tool use back to her "allergy" to ideas without action. People tell her they value how she turns deep understanding into something absurdly practical to say or do, and she says that is simply how she thinks, including as CEO. When she has an idea for, say, a new onboarding flow, she wants to see it fully realized. She has been using Figma Make to "vomit" ideas into UX designs or complete email flows. Her team sometimes wishes she had just described the idea before building it out, and she tells them they can throw the whole thing out because she isn't attached. She also mentioned trying Replit and Lovable, and using Claude and ChatGPT.

She believes people get the most from prompting by dumping out all their thoughts and refining afterward. She suggested that many people, especially women, are conditioned to present ideas only once they are neatly organized. She brings team members into the room to watch how she works through problems with ChatGPT so they can learn that approach.

1:22:55

Bringing a learner's mindset home

Asked for a final point, Kennedy addressed Rachitsky's audience directly, describing them as "forever learners" who would never say "it is the way it is" at work, but who often forget that mindset with their kids. If you yelled at your child, you didn't damage them forever. You may just not know how to repair, and if your own parents never repaired with you, you may be "the first person in my whole lineage to give a true apology to my three-year-old." Of course that feels awkward. She argues that treating parenting as a set of skills rather than an instinct is hopeful, because it's the same kind of learning people already do at work.

She ended with a concrete practice: a parental 360 review. She asks her kids, "If I could do one thing different this week to be a better parent to you, what would it be?" Sometimes the answer hurts, like "you could not be on your phone as much," and the job is simply to receive it. Sometimes it's "let me watch more TV." Kennedy says even that is a window into the child's world, and a parent can listen like the pilot who doesn't open the cockpit door: I'm so glad you told me, that's not something I'll budge on, but maybe we can do this instead. She notes that most employees would feel better about a manager just for being asked the question, and she says her kids' behavior tends to be better for the rest of the week after she asks.

In the lightning round, Kennedy recommended The Power of Moments, The Messy Middle and Creativity, Inc.; the Netflix shows Secrets We Keep and KPop Demon Hunters, which she says opens up deep conversations with kids; and Liberty wooden jigsaw puzzles, which force her to monotask and give her and her husband something to do together in the evening. Her life motto: "This feels hard because it is hard, not because I'm doing something wrong." What surprised her most about building a company, she said, was something she now thinks should have been obvious: "a company is just people." She can't do financial modeling or data analytics, but the skill of trying to understand people, carried over from her therapy practice, has turned out to be one of her most useful leadership skills.