“Niceness won’t save us” challenges the long-held belief that kindness alone creates harmony at work. Communication expert Amira Barger, author of The Price of Nice, argues that niceness often works as a social sedative, numbing uncomfortable yet necessary conversations about bias and inequity. In many organizations, this shows up as performance reviews that avoid naming discrimination, or leaders who praise “professionalism” while rewarding only those who sound familiar. In short, niceness is often a mask for maintaining comfort, not change.

How Niceness Silences Truth and Undermines Equity

Experts like Courtney Laydon and La Vida A. Johnson explain that being “nice” often protects those in power while placing emotional labor on those with the least influence. When niceness is weaponized, it tells employees—especially women and people of color—that harmony matters more than honesty. It forces historically excluded groups to suppress their discomfort and conform to workplace norms not built with them in mind. Niceness, then, isn’t inclusion—it’s a barrier to it.

The Hidden Cost of Niceness in the Workplace

Barger’s research shows that organizations obsessed with niceness often create what she calls “sacred cows”—people, traditions, or systems that can’t be questioned “because that’s just how things are.” These sacred cows breed silence, stifle innovation, and destroy belonging. When truth becomes too dangerous to speak, psychological safety vanishes. Teams that avoid discomfort also avoid growth—and the result is a culture that looks friendly but feels hollow.

How to Replace Niceness with Courage and Equity

To dismantle this culture, Barger encourages professionals to see discomfort as data, not danger. Feeling uneasy about speaking up is a sign of awareness, not weakness. Start small: when someone crosses a line, skip “No worries” and try, “Actually, that doesn’t work for me.” Build a coalition of allies who amplify your voice and challenge silence together. As Barger reminds us, niceness asks you to shrink, but nerve asks you to stand. Every act of honest truth-telling expands what’s possible—for yourself and everyone watching.