The Myth of Being Neutral

Neutrality is often praised as wisdom, as maturity, as fairness. We’re told that staying out of the fight is the dignified choice—that it makes us “above the fray.” But I’ve learned that neutrality is not a lack of position. It is a position.

Neutrality is a choice—one that often protects comfort over truth. It is easier to stand in the middle when the truth demands you move toward the fire. It is easier to say, I don’t want to get involved, when getting involved might mean facing backlash, losing relationships, or disrupting the ease of your own life.

I have learned that refusing to take a stand is itself a stand. Remaining silent in the face of injustice is not neutrality—it is alignment with the status quo. Whether we intend it or not, silence sends a message: I can live with this.

I’ve seen it happen in boardrooms, in friendships, and in communities—moments when a line was clearly drawn, and people who claimed to be “neutral” were, in truth, standing on the side of power, because that’s where it felt safest.

As women, and especially as women in leadership, we are often told that speaking up is “too political” or “too emotional.” But the truth is, leadership without conviction is not leadership—it’s management of appearances.

To claim your voice, to act according to conscience, is not reckless. It is the beginning of change. And change is rarely comfortable.

The world doesn’t need more people who can balance on the fence without falling. The world needs more people willing to climb down, plant their feet in the soil, and say, This is where I stand.

And yes, there is a cost. People may disagree. Some may leave. But the cost of neutrality is far greater—because it’s paid by those who are silenced, harmed, and erased while others look away.

I choose to risk comfort for what is right. I choose to use my voice even when it shakes. I choose to be remembered for where I stood, not for how carefully I stayed out of sight.