Your attitude is contagious.

Host: The morning sun poured through the wide glass windows of a bustling office, scattering light across the polished floors and stacks of half-read reports. Outside, the city pulsed with its usual rhythm—cars, voices, ambition. Inside, a quiet storm brewed between two figures: Jack and Jeeny.

Jack sat behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, his grey eyes sharp and restless. The air was thick with the scent of coffee and fatigue. Jeeny stood across from him, a folder clutched to her chest, her expression calm yet unwavering.

The clock ticked, a metronome for tension.

Jeeny: “Kevin Plank once said, ‘Your attitude is contagious.’ I think he was right. You can feel it in this office—people mirror the energy of whoever leads them.”

Jack: “So now we’re talking about energy, huh? Sounds like the kind of thing you read on a motivational mug. This place runs on numbers, Jeeny, not vibes.”

Host: His voice was low, edged with the dry cynicism of someone who had survived too many late nights and too few victories. Jeeny didn’t flinch. Her dark eyes met his with the quiet steadiness of someone who refused to be intimidated.

Jeeny: “Numbers are a reflection, Jack. Attitude is the cause. You walk in angry, the whole floor feels it. You snap, they tense. You doubt, they freeze. You inspire, they rise. It’s all connected.”

Jack: “You really think morale can fix broken margins? Or that a smile can balance a spreadsheet?”

Jeeny: “I think it can save the people who balance it. You forget that behind every metric is a human being. They look to you. Whether you like it or not, you’re contagious.”

Host: Jack leaned back, rubbing his temple, a faint shadow of exhaustion beneath his eyes. Outside, the city’s hum filtered through the window, mixing with the low buzz of fluorescent lights.

Jack: “Contagious. That’s a nice word. Until you realize it can mean infection too.”

Jeeny: “Exactly. That’s why it matters. Negativity spreads faster than anything else. You’ve seen it—the panic, the gossip, the way one bad mood poisons an entire team.”

Jack: “And positivity? What, we just plaster smiles over problems and pretend everything’s fine?”

Jeeny: “No. We lead by showing it’s possible to keep faith even when things aren’t fine. Optimism isn’t denial—it’s defiance.”

Host: The tension in the air thickened, but so did the heat of honesty. The light shifted as a cloud passed, dimming the room, deepening their faces into chiaroscuro—half hope, half fatigue.

Jack: “You really believe that? That attitude alone changes outcomes?”

Jeeny: “It has. Again and again. Look at Shackleton—when his ship sank in Antarctica, he didn’t lose a single man. Not because he had resources—he had none—but because he kept them believing they’d survive. His calm became their courage.”

Jack: “That’s history, not business.”

Jeeny: “Human behavior doesn’t change with industries, Jack. It’s all the same story: people follow emotion before logic. Your attitude sets the temperature.”

Host: Jack’s fingers tapped the desk, slow and deliberate, like a man trying to reason with something his heart already knew but his pride refused to admit.

Jack: “You make it sound simple. But when you’ve got deadlines, layoffs, shareholders breathing down your neck—positivity feels like a luxury.”

Jeeny: “No. It’s oxygen. The moment you stop believing, you start suffocating the people around you.”

Jack: “And if I’m already suffocating?”

Jeeny: “Then breathe through someone else’s strength. That’s the beauty of it—attitude spreads both ways. You catch hope just like you catch despair.”

Host: Her voice softened, the edge replaced by warmth. The light returned, filling the room again. For a moment, even the endless buzz of the office outside seemed to quiet, as if listening.

Jack: “So you’re saying… what? That my bad days become everyone’s?”

Jeeny: “Yes. You may not mean to, but your presence writes the mood before your words even arrive. You walk into a meeting heavy, the air sinks. You walk in grounded, the room steadies. That’s power. Real power.”

Host: Jack stood, walking toward the window. Below, the street was alive with motion—people crossing, cabs honking, a blur of purpose and exhaustion. He watched it for a long moment.

Jack: “You know, I used to have that fire. Believed in what we were doing. Believed we could change things. Then the work changed me instead.”

Jeeny: “No, you just forgot that belief was contagious too. You can lose it—but others can give it back.”

Jack: “You sound like one of those leadership coaches.”

Jeeny: “No. I sound like someone who still believes in you.”

Host: The words hung in the air, fragile but undeniable. A faint smile ghosted across Jack’s face, the first in what felt like weeks.

Jack: “You really think I can turn this around—with attitude alone?”

Jeeny: “Not alone. But it’s where it starts. Kevin Plank built Under Armour with it. He said attitude infects culture—and culture drives performance. You can’t fake it; people feel what you feel.”

Jack: “So if I start pretending to believe…”

Jeeny: “They’ll know it’s a lie. But if you start remembering why you cared in the first place—they’ll feel that too.”

Host: Jack turned from the window, his expression softer now, his voice quieter.

Jack: “You know… when I first hired you, I thought you were too idealistic. Too emotional. Now I realize maybe that’s what this place has been missing.”

Jeeny: “Idealism isn’t a weakness, Jack. It’s fuel. People need someone to light the match.”

Host: The clock ticked, but time felt slower now, the space between them gentler. The sunlight fell in long golden lines across the floor, painting everything with possibility.

Jack: “Maybe attitude really is contagious. Maybe I’ve been spreading the wrong one.”

Jeeny: “Then change the infection.”

Jack: “Easier said than done.”

Jeeny: “Most cures are.”

Host: Jack laughed, a low, tired sound, but real this time. He walked back to the desk, straightened a few papers, and looked at her.

Jack: “You know, I don’t think I’ve said this in a long time—but… thank you.”

Jeeny: “For what?”

Jack: “For reminding me that leadership isn’t about being right—it’s about being human.”

Jeeny: “Then maybe humanity’s the most contagious thing of all.”

Host: Outside, the city shimmered under the noonday light. The office, once heavy with pressure, seemed to breathe again—lighter, warmer. Jack stood straighter, his eyes clearer. Jeeny smiled, quietly victorious.

Host: And as the door opened and the first of the day’s meetings began, something intangible shifted through the air—
not policy, not profit—
but the invisible force that changes everything:
one person choosing to believe again.

Because, as Kevin Plank said,
attitude is contagious—
and when one heart stands,
the others follow.