Living in the South, humidity is a constant—which I know people hate. When you grow up here like I did, you get used to newcomers lamenting the “oppressive” heat, and that’s fair. It’s heavy and nonstop and a lot.
Still, I’ve always admired humidity.
Yes, it’s uncomfortable. But it’s also this life force weaving through the environment, culture, and history of the region. In many ways, it is the place. To hate humidity here is like resenting your body’s central nervous system. It’s that fundamental.
Sometimes, on a long run or driving with the windows down along the North Carolina coast, I feel humidity pressing down like gravity—collecting on my skin, expanding into my lungs. And I think, I’m part of this.
That’s the gift of humidity. It makes you aware of the environment you’re moving through—for better and for worse.
Workplaces have weather patterns like this too.
Like humidity, company culture is often invisible—it’s just the atmosphere people breathe every day. But when something big happens in the world—a financial crisis, a war, a tragedy, a pandemic—suddenly everyone becomes aware of the air again. It thickens.
Some companies respond to that awareness directly. Others remain silent. Employees feel the weight either way.
You can’t just turn off the weather.
Last week, we polled Pipeline readers on whether acknowledging that heaviness matters, asking: How important is it for companies to address the impact of major national or international news events with their employees?
Most respondents said it’s at least somewhat important, and more than half indicated it’s very much so. The comments included a few rich examples of times employers have delivered meaningful support:
My last employer updated us on the impact tariffs were having on our costs and the impact it was having on our business. When the ICE raids started, we received training on what was allowed on our properties and how to handle it.
I work in a national civic engagement non-profit, and we regularly share news articles that affect our work. We also hold debrief meetings after major elections to process the results and determine our path forward.
Non-political discussions can be helpful. I’ve been through the 2008–2009 financial crisis in homebuilding, along with several wars and oil crises. In my experience, it’s best to acknowledge concerns between teams and customers without overblowing them. These situations take time to pass—and they do. Younger teams don’t always have that historical perspective.
But there were also moments of clear frustration or uncertainty in the responses:
Still waiting for them to do literally anything....
Um, I got a day off when we were supposed to have a hurricane. Unpaid. Not much aside from that.
Never worked for a company that cared enough to do this
I don’t think it’s groundbreaking to interpret those comments as a signal that silence doesn’t work for many people—our quantitative data even points to that. But I also don’t want to repeat the usual advice about transparency and active listening in the workplace.
So instead I want to turn the focus back to humidity.
Humidity has very clear pros and cons—sometimes all cons, especially if it’s late August and the heat refuses to break into a summer storm. It’s insufferable then.
But that discomfort is also information. It tells you something about the environment you’re in—what’s manageable, what’s building pressure, and what people are quietly resenting.
Whether it’s the humidity of a region or the humidity of a workplace, the things that make an environment feel stifling are rarely loud. They’re atmospheric. And they’re worth paying attention to.
Something I love about Southerners is that we adapt to the heat, yet still, on a very hot day, can be found complaining that it’s a scorcher outside. Sometimes, just acknowledging the weather lightens the air.
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