How is it that the cheapest resource in an organization — words — is also one of the most expensive?
Some organizations invest in technology, strategy and infrastructure. But under the radar another engine operates, quieter, but no less decisive: discourse. It determines whether an organization moves forward or erodes itself from within.
The Torah portions of Tazria and Metzora place at their center a phenomenon that appears purely spiritual — tzaraat, a biblical affliction. But Rabbi Isaac Arama reads it differently: not as a physical condition, but as the result of misusing the power of speech.
According to him, speech was given to humans to compensate for deficiencies — to learn, think, coordinate and build. But when it is diverted from its purpose it becomes a tool of destruction. His metaphor is sharp: it is like receiving royal garments and placing them on a donkey.
In managerial terms this means taking a strategic resource and using it in a way that harms organizational value.
The problem is not only “evil speech” in the classic sense. It is far broader:
- Hallway conversations that erode trust.
- Cynicism that replaces commitment.
- “Noise” that blurs messages.
- And managers who fail to understand that every word they utter creates reality.
Here Arama draws a clear distinction: speech has only two legitimate uses — necessary and essential.
Necessary is coordination, execution, information. Essential is learning, values, meaning.
Anything that doesn't promote action, nor depth, is waste and at times can cause harm.
From this emerges a sharp managerial insight: A healthy organization is not only one that speaks less harmfully — but one that speaks correctly.
Modern philosophy reinforces this. Ludwig Wittgenstein wrote that “the limits of my language are the limits of my world.” Language does not merely describe reality — it creates it. In organizations, the implication is clear: organizational culture is not written in documents, it is built through the sentences that are repeated.
Along similar lines, Michel Foucault showed how discourse produces power. Those who define the narrative also define behavior. It is not only who sets the rules, but who determines how they are spoken about.
But Rabbi Arama does not stop at diagnosis. He also outlines a process of repair: the metzora undergoes purification through three organs — ear, hand and foot.
The ear — listening.
The hand — action.
The foot — movement.
In other words, the problem with speech is not only what is said — but also what is heard, what is done with it, and where it leads.
In management terms, this translates into three simple principles:
- Define a clear standard of discourse — not only what is forbidden, but what is desired: communication that advances execution or depth. Everything else is out of bounds.
- Measure culture through language — how do people talk about mistakes? About success? About leadership? That is the real metric.
- Lead by example — every statement by a manager is either “oil” that heals the system, or “blood” that deepens the wound.
As a CEO, I established a simple rule with the leadership team: don’t talk about people — talk to people. If you have criticism, say it in the presence of the relevant person. Otherwise, a familiar phenomenon emerges: “circles of talk” — a lot of conversation, little outcome, and a great deal of wasted energy.
Even on the global stage, the power of words is evident. Donald Trump can move entire markets through statements alone, sometimes with a single tweet. A declaration of a ceasefire, a hint of escalation, a shift in tone — and the market reacts. Not always because reality has changed, but because the narrative has.
It is a stark reminder: words are not just communication, they are power.
And ultimately, there is a simple managerial truth: An organization does not collapse because of a poor strategy, but because of discourse that fails to serve it.
And when that happens, there is no shortage of words. There is a shortage of meaning.