Characteristics of Leadership: Greed

Greed in Alaska

From fur to raw materials, Alaska’s booms create a race against the clock. This perceived shortage of time makes reckless behavior feel like a necessity for profitability, with greed acting as a catalyst, turning that urgency into outright instability.

While the Avery case is an extreme example of financial theft, the underlying impulse—the drive for more at any cost—is a trap that exists even in mission-driven sectors, where growth can easily masquerade as progress.

Balancing Ambition with Mission

Kameron Perez-Verdia, president and CEO of the Alaska Humanities Forum (AKHF), knows the “saltwater trap” well—the idea that the more success you drink, the thirstier you become. I sat down with him to discuss how to build for good, not just for more.

Q: How do you personally define “enough” to ensure your ambition stays focused on the mission rather than just a hunger for more?

Perez-Verdia: For me, “enough” isn’t a number, it’s a question: Are we actually making a difference in people’s lives in a way that aligns with who we say we are?

I grew up in Utqiaġvik, formerly known as Barrow, in a community with roots going back thousands of years, where survival depends on each other, and where community isn’t an idea, it’s a necessity. That experience shaped how I think about leadership, purpose, and sustainability. It taught me that success isn’t about accumulation; it’s about whether people and communities can thrive together.

That perspective has stayed with me. Mission, vision, and values are not just statements; they are shared agreements about who we are, why we exist, and where we’re going. That clarity is what keeps ambition grounded.

There’s a real temptation, especially in the nonprofit world, to equate success with growth, bigger budgets, more programs, more visibility. But growth without depth is a kind of drift. You can look successful on paper while slowly moving away from your purpose.

At the AKHF, “enough” means we are resourced to do our work well, take care of our people, and show up meaningfully in communities across Alaska. Beyond that, more isn’t automatically better—it can become a distraction.

For me, it’s never really been about “more.” It’s about impact. Are we making a difference? Are we being true to why we exist?

When ambition is anchored in purpose, it becomes generative. When it’s not, it becomes extractive. That’s the line I try to stay aware of.

Q: In the nonprofit world, “empire building” can cause a leader to prioritize growth over impact. What checks and balances do you use at the AKHF to ensure the original goal of helping people doesn’t get buried?

For us, the first check is clarity of purpose. Our mission, vision, and values, and the shared understanding behind them are active agreements that guide decisions. We consistently ask, are we being true to who we are and why we exist?

That’s especially important because I don’t believe nonprofits are here to do things to communities. Communities already have deep knowledge, resilience, and wisdom, often built over generations. Our role is to be partners, to listen, to support, and to work with, not on behalf of. When you lose that orientation, you risk drifting into extraction—of resources, of stories, and of power.

Second, I strongly believe your first “customers” are your employees. If you invest in them, support them, and create a healthy internal culture, the communities you serve benefit directly.

Third, we stay close to community in very real ways. That includes who sits at the table, boards that reflect the communities we serve, advisory groups that inform our work, and ongoing engagement to ensure we’re not becoming disconnected from what’s actually needed.

Fourth, we build partnerships across organizations. In Alaska, resources are limited, and duplication doesn’t serve anyone. That means having honest conversations about alignment, collaboration, and how we use resources wisely.

And finally, we create a culture where people can push back. The most important ideas often come from those closest to the work.

Growth isn’t the goal; impact is. And sometimes the most strategic decision is not to expand but to go deeper and to stay accountable to the people and communities you serve.

Q: Oversight is often compared to a radar gun that only works when the driver is being watched. How do you build an internal culture where integrity is driven by values rather than the fear of an audit?

External oversight creates guardrails, but culture is built in everyday moments, how decisions are made, how people are treated, and how mistakes are handled.

For us, it starts with values. Organizational culture is something we work on every day, and it’s grounded in a shared understanding of who we are. Just as important is creating an environment where people can bring their full selves to work, their experiences, perspectives, and values.

That’s where integrity really lives.

We emphasize psychological safety. People need to feel they can raise concerns, ask questions, and challenge decisions without fear. If people only speak up when something becomes a compliance issue, it’s already too late.

We also actively create space for difference. Alaska is a place where people from all over the world, with very different worldviews, live side by side. The same is true within organizations. Diversity of thought, background, and lived experience is where innovation and resilience come from.

But that doesn’t happen automatically. It takes intentional work to create an environment where differences are not just present but engaged, where people can coexist, challenge each other, and build something together.

There is a real tension here. You need shared values and alignment, and you also need to continuously invite new ideas, even when they’re uncomfortable. That is how organizations stay adaptive and responsive in a changing world.

The goal is that people do the right thing not because they’re being watched, but because it reflects who we are together.

Q: Beyond the balance sheet, what is the primary metric you use to determine if the AKHF is succeeding?

We track participation and outcomes, of course, but those are indicators, not the goal. The deeper question is, are we creating spaces where people can engage across difference, reflect on their own experiences, and build understanding, and ultimately build community?

That’s especially important in a place like Alaska, where there are deep cultural histories, diverse identities, and often very different perspectives. A big part of our work is creating space for those differences to engage in meaningful ways.

And just as importantly, what do we leave behind? Are we helping individuals and communities build the capacity, relationships, skills, and ways of engaging that continue beyond any single program?

Success, for us, isn’t just what we deliver. It’s what continues after we’re gone.

The Bottom Line

Ultimately, greed is like fire in a fireplace. It provides warmth and energy. Left unchecked, it will burn the house down. We need that spark of ambition to innovate, but for growth to be sustainable, it must be balanced with responsibility. When personal success leads to a better world for others, we move past the Gekko mantra toward a type of success that truly lasts.

Join us next month as we explore recklessness.