How real everyone suddenly seemed.

A Swiss edition of CNN distributed a news summary on Twitter with a headline that caught my eye. Watching it surprised me less for the substance of the message and more for the personal-office background, the home-done hair, the professional but not overly styled attire, the more natural level of makeup than most television reporters sport on an average workday.

Then she joined in a guest speaker. The guest speaker appeared via a video feed from her own home office, likely via her personal computer. She didn’t have a perfectly manufactured scene behind her, either. She looked equally personal and warm and… real.

As the two talked, they spoke under lighting that may not have perfectly highlighted their features yet served the purpose quite well. No one looked plastic. Few visual effects flapped and spun across the screen. I heard limited—if any—audio pings and pongs. I can’t recall any dramatic musical flourishes interrupting the conversation, presentation, and transitions.

I adored it.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I loved the clip. After years of corporate talking heads blathering about the importance of business leadership and marketing “authenticity” and “being authentic”—with false-at-best gestures at follow-through—only COVID-19 managed to make authenticity an actuality.

Suddenly, People Connected via Video

The advent of authenticity didn’t register for me prior to my seeing the news clip because I don’t watch television news—or television at all, frankly—and I’d moved the FrogDog team to a distributed-workforce structure in 2018, after which we all began to work from wherever and wear whatever (within reason) when we connected via videoconference.

The relaxed CNN Switzerland piece prompted me to realize that, over the previous few weeks, I’d had business contacts, prospects, and clients show up for meetings for the first time with video, rather than defaulting to the dial-in number.

Though FrogDog has conducted all meetings via Microsoft Teams for years (starting back when Microsoft called it Skype for Business, even), and though all FrogDog employees join internal and external calls with video, anyone else outside the company had tended to avoid turning on their cameras. Even when politely asked to activate the video on their ends, people outside FrogDog protested that they didn’t like to look at themselves, or said that video made them self-conscious, or demurred that they “didn’t feel camera ready.”

Then COVID-19 struck.

Even television journalists who might not have felt “camera-ready” without hair-and-makeup and stylist crews had to turn up to work—and their work involves video cameras, even if the computers on their laptops serve the purpose.

People who’d seen only the humans and animals sharing their living spaces for weeks on end began to realize that they’d rather see a few more faces than just talk down phone lines. They conceded that face time—even the digital-video kind—helped with engagement, communication, connection, and bonding. And though they may not have felt more “camera ready” post COVID-19 than they did before it, they realized they couldn’t reasonably receive face time—even via video—without reciprocating.

Genuine Authenticity Pays Dividends

I adored the opportunity to see the faces of clients, venders, prospects, and connections. I loved seeing people’s natural environments, even and almost especially when I got a glimpse of their pets, their art and décor (or messy workspaces), and their kids.

With the FrogDog crew, we saw each other during the height of the crisis-induced craziness in greater disarray than ever: Babies. Bathrobes. No makeup. Unshowered. Wet-haired from the shower. No sleep. No haircut. In the dark. In the daylight. Sitting on the floor. Sitting on the couch. Standing in the kitchen. Tired. Angry. Sad. Happy. Silly.

Real.

Others share my feeling, it so happens. A friend whose CEO conducted staff meetings in his conference room in past business quarters had to conduct it during COVID-19 from his living room—a presentation which included a surprise appearance from his child.

The CEO’s at-home presentation got the highest attendance and highest employee ratings in the history of the company’s internal town hall meetings.

The Durability of Crisis-Driven Authenticity

Unforeseen and unavoidable circumstances forced many people across the globe to drop pretense and futile attempts at perfection and simply act like real, flawed, often-awkward human beings.

Through the dropping of artifice, we realized more about the people in different facets of our lives. We better understood each other. We more fully grasped what the humans we knew faced each day. We could more easily extend compassion or even empathy. We could better accept one another.

Will the turn toward authenticity—so refreshing, so needed—last?

As each country and region emerges from confinement and goes back into a more normal life rhythm, some of which will include a more normal social calendar, a more normal home environment, and a more normal work routine, will this newfound, coronavirus-induced authenticity disappear? Or will we manage to keep some of it?

Could one of the silver linings of COVID-19 be a new authenticity across some, if not all, sectors?

Or is that too much to ask? (I hope it isn’t.)

P.S.—For other insights and experiences through COVID-19, you can read through my diaries and essays about the coronavirus crisis here.