There are some assets we know how to measure. We can calculate revenue, margins, cash flow, market value, and productivity. We can place a value on real estate, technology, intellectual property, and equipment. We can track performance, quantify growth, and build models around almost every tangible aspect of a business.
And then there are the assets that resist easy measurement. Trust. Friendship. Reputation. Generosity. Human connection. Goodwill.
A friend of mine, someone I first met in 8th grade and with whom I retain a close friendship to this day, recently wrote about rebuilding his firm after the unimaginable devastation of September 11, 2001, when his organization lost nearly its entire company. You can read Tom’s heartfelt and poignant article here: Reflecting on 9/11: ‘We Witnessed Some of the Very Best Humanity Has to Offer’
His story is, first and foremost, one of extraordinary loss. But it is also a story about something remarkably hopeful. When so much of what his firm had built was suddenly gone, something remained.
People remained. Relationships remained. And goodwill surfaced in very powerful ways!
Over many years, he and his colleagues built relationships with clients, friends, business associates, and countless others. At the time, I suspect few of those everyday interactions felt particularly significant.
They were simply people working with people, helping one another. Keeping commitments. Building friendships. Showing up. Earning trust.
Then came a moment none of them could possibly have anticipated, and the goodwill accumulated through years of relationships suddenly became visible.
People stepped forward. They offered help. They made introductions. They opened doors. They provided resources. They created opportunities and they extended themselves because a relationship existed before there was ever a need.
Tom’s story caused me to think more deeply about the nature of goodwill.
Perhaps goodwill is a form of relational capital, the accumulated consequence of how we treat people over time, particularly during moments when we have nothing immediate to gain.
However, unlike financial capital, relational goodwill rarely appears on a balance sheet. There is no monthly statement showing how much we have accumulated. There is no precise measurement of its value. Yet, at certain moments, it may become one of the most valuable assets we possess.
One of the most important characteristics of goodwill is that it can’t be manufactured on demand. We can’t suddenly decide to create deep trust in the moment we desperately need it. We can’t instantly build meaningful relationships during a crisis. We can’t manufacture credibility after circumstances have already begun to unravel.
Goodwill must precede the need.
It develops quietly through countless interactions that, individually, may appear insignificant, such as:
These moments rarely feel consequential in the moment, yet as they accumulate over time, something powerful begins to form. Trust.
We often think about compounding in financial terms. A relatively small investment, consistently maintained over time, can eventually become something substantial. Human relationships work in much the same way.
One act of generosity may be appreciated and forgotten. But years of generosity creates a reputation.
One fulfilled commitment demonstrates reliability. Hundreds of fulfilled commitments create trust.
One thoughtful conversation establishes connection. A lifetime of meaningful interactions creates trust-bound relationships. And trust-bound relationships lead to the creation of goodwill.
The power of this compounding is that its value often grows far beyond the original interaction. The person we helped may help someone else. The colleague we encouraged may later become a leader who encourages others. The client whose trust we earned may introduce us to another relationship. The individual who experienced our generosity may remember it years later, long after we ourselves have forgotten the moment.
Goodwill moves through human networks. It travels. It multiplies. And, perhaps most importantly, it CONNECTS.
There is an important distinction between goodwill and networking. Networking can sometimes carry an implied exchange: What can this person do for me?
Goodwill begins with a very different question: What can I do for this person?
That distinction matters.
Relationships built primarily around utility tend to remain fragile. If the utility disappears, the relationship vanishes with it. But relationships grounded in genuine concern, trust, mutual respect, and generosity can survive changes in title, company, geography, and circumstance. The paradox is that people who create the greatest goodwill are often least focused on accumulating it. They are simply trying to be good partners, good colleagues, good friends, and good human beings.
There is no ledger. No scorekeeping. No expectation that every favor will eventually be repaid. And yet, over time, reciprocity will naturally emerge. Not because anyone demanded it, but because people remember how they were treated.
Perhaps this is why goodwill becomes most visible during difficult moments. When circumstances are normal, relationships can easily be mistaken for transactions. Clients purchase services. Employees perform jobs. Suppliers fulfill contracts. Colleagues complete assignments.
But when the normal structure breaks down, the deeper nature of those relationships is revealed. Who checks in? Who chooses to stay and show up? Who helps? Who opens a door? Who says, "Whatever you need, I'm here?”
Crisis does not necessarily create those relationships, it reveals them. And that may be one of the profound lessons within my friend Tom’s experience following September 11. The support his firm received was not created by the tragedy. The tragedy simply revealed the strength of relationships that had already been built. The goodwill was already there.
This idea has important implications for business. Organizations often devote enormous energy to building financial capital, technological capability, and operational efficiency … as we should. Those things matter enormously.
But perhaps we should think just as intentionally about building relational capital. What is the level of trust between our organization and our clients? Between leaders and employees? Between colleagues? Between our organization and the suppliers and partners upon whom we depend?
What happens when something goes wrong? Do people instinctively protect themselves? Or do they move toward one another?
Organizations rich in relational goodwill possess something that cannot easily be replicated by competitors. Trust lowers friction. Strong relationships accelerate problem solving. Goodwill makes difficult conversations possible. People are more willing to extend grace when mistakes occur. They are more likely to share information openly. They are more likely to collaborate. More likely to stay engaged. More willing to help one another navigate turbulent, uncertain conditions.
In that sense, goodwill is not merely a pleasant byproduct of doing business well. It is part of the infrastructure that allows organizations to succeed and endure.
Goodwill may feel intangible, but the behaviors that produce it are remarkably concrete.
Accountability: We take ownership of our commitments, our decisions, and our impact on others.
Reliability: We show up consistently. People know that our words have meaning because our behavior repeatedly supports them.
And through accountability and reliability, we become trustworthy over time.
Trust is rarely created through a single dramatic gesture. It is built through consistent behavior and performance over an extended period. People watch what we do. They notice whether we follow through and they remember whether we show up when circumstances become inconvenient. Eventually, repeated experiences become belief.
"I know this person will do what they said."
"I know this organization will be there when something goes wrong."
"I know I can trust them."
And once trust takes root, goodwill begins to grow.
There is another reason I believe relational goodwill deserves more attention today. Our world is becoming faster. More automated. More digital. Artificial intelligence, technology, and process automation will continue to reshape the way we work, communicate, and serve one another. Make no mistake, much of this change is extraordinarily positive.
Technology can remove friction, improve responsiveness, increase access to information, and make organizations significantly more capable. But speed and efficiency should not be confused with connection.
A faster interaction is not necessarily a better relationship. A more efficient transaction is not automatically a more meaningful human experience.
As technology becomes increasingly capable of performing the transactional parts of work, I believe the distinctly human dimensions of our relationships become even more important, including:
The opportunity before us is not to choose between technology and human connection. It is to use technology in ways that create more room for human connection. We will continue to automate what should be automated and simplify what should be simplified. We’ll use technology to make us faster and smarter, and then reinvest the time and capacity we gain into the things technology cannot replicate easily:
Perhaps this is where the idea of goodwill extends beyond business altogether. Every time we strengthen a relationship, something larger happens. When we mentor someone, encourage someone, make an introduction, forgive a mistake, extend patience, keep a commitment, or simply make another person feel seen and valued, we strengthen the connective tissue between people.
Most of those moments will never make headlines and many will soon be forgotten. Yet together, they create something powerful:
And occasionally, when life delivers something we never could have anticipated, we discover just how strong that network has become, illustrated when:
Perhaps that is the most remarkable thing about relational goodwill. We rarely know when we are building it. We rarely know when we may need it and we can’t always see how far it will travel. Which may be precisely why it is worth investing in every day. Not because we know what we will receive in return, but because a world with more trust, generosity, reliability, and human connection is simply a better world.
And because, every once in a while, those quiet deposits of goodwill accumulated over many years become powerful enough to help someone, some relationship, and some company begin again.