There is a particular kind of pressure that creeps in when the future starts to blur. It is not the pressure of outright crisis or even visible failure. It is the pressure of not knowing. And right now, that pressure is mounting. You see it in the data, in the boardroom, in the tone of investor calls. Goldman Sachs now estimates a 45 percent chance of a U.S. recession within the next year, and JPMorgan puts the global risk even higher at 60 percent. First quarter GDP has already slipped into contraction, and S&P forecasts growth slowing to just 1.9 percent for both 2025 and 2026, down sharply from 2.8 percent in 2024.

​

This shift in the economy reflects a shift in people’s behavior. The University of Michigan’s Consumer Sentiment Index is sitting at 52.2, matching 2022 pandemic lows, and nearly three-quarters of Americans are now citing tariffs as a top concern when thinking about the economy. Business leaders are showing the same nervousness. Principal’s Financial Well-Being Index has dropped to its lowest point since the pandemic, and only 16 percent of employers believe the U.S. economy is currently growing.

​

We are staring down the increasing potential of yet another major recession in recent memory. Personally, this is the first one where I’m old enough to know what’s really going on, and to worry about my job because of it. This isn’t just about the numbers or a red line in the stock market. It’s about the feelings that those elicit. I’m scared. I don’t know what to do. But I feel graced by a culture of transparency and communication. I know I won’t be blindsided by layoffs or quietly phased out to cut costs.

​

The market is defensive, cautious, and tense. Consumer spending is softening. Business investment is slowing. Across sectors, uncertainty is driving a tightening of the belt. People are hunkering down, waiting to see what happens next. And when fear takes the wheel, the damage starts long before the recession becomes official.

Because when the market starts operating from fear instead of foresight, the first things that go are not always the most expendable. More often than not, the things you drop are the ones that would have helped you through. Strategy gets cut down to tactics. Long-term thinking gives way to quarterly fire drills. Culture, the thing that binds an organization in good times and bad, starts to feel like a luxury.

​

That is more than just a shame. It is a risk. Because the moment fear becomes your operating system, predictability disappears. And in business, predictability is power. Stanford research shows that companies with strong cultures experience 30 percent less volatility in their returns. Gallup data confirms that high engagement drives faster recovery after shocks and better performance during them. The pattern is clear. Culture is not ornamental. It is structural.

​

Still, fear has power. Fear makes us reach for old tools. It convinces us to hide and protect our piece of the puzzle rather than lift our eyes to the bigger picture. It tells us to jettison anything that is not "core." But what if the instinct to cut away values is exactly what undermines your resilience? What if the things that seem dispensable, like clarity, consistency, and principles, are the very things that determine how you come out the other side?

​

Some will treat culture like paint, useful when things are built and irrelevant when they are burning. But culture is not paint. It is the scaffolding. Additionally, in unpredictable conditions, it is often the only thing holding the structure together. The Ethisphere Institute has tracked this for years. Their list of the World’s Most Ethical Companies has outperformed the S&P 500 by over 3 percent annually, and by 14.4 percent over five-year stretches. The companies that stick to their values, their ethics, see a tangible long-term profit. That is not just a moral argument. That is a performance indicator.

​

As we approach more turbulent times every organization—and every leader inside one—will hit the moment where the uncertainty becomes too loud to ignore. And that is when the deeper decision-making begins. Do we scale back to survive, or do we sharpen who we are? Do we move with the market, or with our mission? The easy answer is the former. But the data and history show that the organizations who emerge stronger—those that gain trust, loyalty, and ground—tend to pick the latter.

​

So yes, there is risk ahead. The economic signals are real. But the real test is not what the market does next. It is how you respond when the map gets blurry. Because when you do not know exactly what to do, the one thing you can always control is how you show up. Will you keep your head down and hope not to be noticed? Or will you choose clarity over compliance, consistency over compromise?

​

We have seen what that looks like. A classic example is when Johnson & Johnson pulled Tylenol from shelves in a high-profile health scare, it cost millions in the short term. Yet it was the same action that created decades of consumer trust. Priceless over the long term. Actions that deliver on promises made in line with a company’s values and culture aren’t cute stories. They are strategic decisions. What’s more, they reflect what happens when culture is treated as infrastructure, not ornament.

​

The truth is, uncertainty strips away pretense. It reveals what is real. That goes for companies as much as it does for individuals. What you do when no one has the answers becomes your signature. What you hold onto when everything feels unstable becomes your foundation. Whether you like it or not, this moment is offering every leader a choice. Fold inward, or reach for clarity. Wait for instructions, or become the steady hand others rely on.

​

You do not get to control the economic cycle. But you do get to control how your company behaves inside it. You get to control the standard you hold, the tone you set, the line you do not cross even when it is tempting. You control how you communicate, how clearly your people understand what matters, and whether your values show up in the stories being told around your organization. That clarity is not accidental. It is shaped, coached, and built. Ultimately, that is what this moment asks of business leaders. Not a perfectly accurate prediction of what comes next, but a firm grasp on who you are, even when the future is uncertain.

​

So what guides you? Fear or principle?

​