Sustainability should be rooted in care.

You know that feeling you’re left with after the funeral of an exceptional person? Where stories of selfless generosity and loving care flow as freely as the tears? Many times, sitting in that wooden pew, I’ve been blown away by a hidden gem of a story about someone I thought I knew. Like how a great uncle paid for the college education of a relatively unknown acquaintance and told no one. Or how a friend’s mom delivered home-cooked meals to her elderly neighbors every week for 20+ years. Or how my dad gave away his paintings to countless people who simply admired his work. It’s equal parts inspiration, admiration, and overwhelm. And it leaves me asking: what am I doing? Then I’ll walk away carrying all those big feelings and pledging to myself to do better.

This is how I felt a few weeks ago sitting at my desk watching the In Memoriam video of Andrew Kassoy, co-founder of B Lab. Filmed alongside his fellow founders in his final days, it reflects on what motivated this visionary group of college friends to start B Lab and why it matters now more than ever. It’s a beautiful, soul stirring piece of storytelling about a partnership steeped in love and a shared sense of purpose. Where the purpose is to care.

Until I watched this, I hadn’t thought much about what inspired the beginnings of B Lab but I know very well the impact of its counterpart, the B Corporation movement. This disruptive effort to bring altruism into the boardroom using standards and accountability is a badge of honor and checkmark of credibility for companies committed to sustainability. What’s unique, Kassoy notes, is how the idea of care is built into the B Lab standards themselves, essentially saying to companies: you’re not just here to do good, you’re here to care. In this time of reinvention for corporate sustainability, maintaining (or attaining) B Corp status serves as the guidepost for forging ahead.

I think one of the things that makes capitalism not work as a system is, it was built on the idea of carelessness. Like, literally, the entire purpose of it was that people should build wealth for themselves and that other people didn’t matter— you couldn’t care about them.”
—Andrew Kassoy

In the video he speaks quietly and passionately but avoids the hard-edged things that define B Lab like policies, risk standards, and accountability measures. Instead, faced with the raw emotion of a man trying to make meaning out of a life about to be cut short, he channels his passion to the softer side of what B Lab is at its core: a movement founded on joy, relationships, trust, love. And speaking on a future that he knows won’t include him, Kassoy urges his fellow founders, “we have to continue to use those relationships and care for each other in ways that ensure the movement continues to have strength. My greatest aspiration is that we not just continue to do that but that we step it up. That each one of us takes it on in a bigger way than we ever have before.”

“In a time when so many people are careless, and so many people lack moral courage, it’s up to us to double down on care and courage. And that’s a hell of a lot easier, and a hell of a lot more powerful, if we do it together.”
—Andrew Kassoy

Andrew Kassoy knew that for capitalism to be a force for social good and for sustainability to work, we have to make people care.

People don’t act because they’re told to. We act because we care. In sustainability, where we talk a lot about impact, resilience, and regeneration, I’d argue Kassoy’s legacy had already embedded itself long before his death. Because beneath these big words with lofty aspirations is an invisible current that gives them urgency and weight. It’s care.

And that’s where communications comes in. By tapping into the deeply human act of storytelling, we make lofty concepts real. We mix data with emotion to show care in tangible ways. It’s how we get people to connect and act. Without connection, there is no care. And without care, there is no change.

Because I was a bit wrecked after watching the video, I turned to the soul-cleansing, nature-inspired writing of Margart Renkl. Her latest piece is about a fight to save the fragile ecosystem of the Okefenokee Swamp from being bought and destroyed by an Alabama mine owner. Okay, not quite as calming as some of her typical essays about backyard flora and fauna like the delicate, dewy web of orb-weaver spiders, but a hopeful story that connected to this concept of care. Because people rallied. Communities spoke out. Faith leaders, paddlers, artists, tribal representatives, scientists, students, they all showed up to say: “we love this place.” And in that loud, messy, beautiful collective act of caring, a movement gained the strength to change the outcome.

Sure, there were lawyers involved in saving the swamp. And some money helped too. But first, it was saved by love. By people who made others feel why it mattered.

As sustainability communicators, that’s what we do too. We’re here to wrap facts in feeling. Because ultimately, as Andrew Kassoy says, sustainability isn’t just about doing less harm. It’s about doing more good. And caring openly is a radical, enduring act in a world that still rewards short-term thinking.

The B Lab founders said it best: relationships, trust, and love are the foundation of the system they’ve built. And I think those are the foundations of the work we all need to be doing right now. So let’s keep communicating sustainability in a way that shows people why it matters. Let’s keep helping companies tell stories that matter most—about their goals, ambitions, and impact. And most essentially, about care.