When Rutger Bregman stepped onto the stage at the B for Good Leaders summitAmsterdam on May 22, 2024, he didn’t offer platitudes. He didn’t hand out sticky notes with inspirational quotes. Instead, he dropped a bomb: "Find a cult of radical do-gooders and make life more difficult." The crowd — over 1,000 CEOs from certified B Corps and purpose-driven businesses gathered under the banner of "B Corps and beyond" — fell silent. Then came the murmurs. And then, slowly, nods. This wasn’t motivation. It was a challenge.
"It’s really important: surround yourself with like-minded, morally ambitious people," Bregman said. His words weren’t a call to isolation. They were a call to intensity. The goal isn’t to convert the masses overnight. It’s to build a core of relentless believers who can then ripple change outward — not by being polite, but by being uncompromising.
That line landed like a hammer. In an era saturated with productivity hacks, mindfulness apps, and "hustle culture" disguised as wellness, Bregman flipped the script. He wasn’t asking leaders to burn out. He was asking them to choose the harder path — the one that risks alienation, failure, and criticism — because it’s the only one that leads to real transformation. "If you’re really serious about this," he told the room, "it’s not all going to be fun and relaxed."
He wasn’t romanticizing struggle. He was naming reality. The civil rights movement didn’t succeed because people wanted to be liked. The climate movement isn’t moving because activists kept their voices polite. Real change requires friction. And friction, Bregman insisted, comes from community — not comfort.
That’s where Bregman’s message hits hardest. Many leaders in the room are already wrestling with the tension between impact and growth. How do you stay true when investors demand faster returns? When customers want cheaper products? When your board says, "Be more inclusive," but means, "Be less radical?" Bregman’s answer: Don’t dilute. Double down. Find your tribe. Build your cult.
"Radical do-gooders," as he defined them, aren’t naive idealists. They’re strategic insurgents. They know they won’t win everyone over. But they also know that history isn’t shaped by consensus — it’s shaped by conviction. And conviction, he reminded them, is contagious — but only if it’s loud enough, close enough, and unwavering enough.
Bregman’s advice may sound radical. But it’s rooted in centuries of history. The women who fought for the vote didn’t wait for permission. The abolitionists didn’t wait for public opinion to catch up. They built networks of trust, shared risk, and raised the stakes — together.
So what’s next for the leaders in Amsterdam? Will they return to their offices and quietly file Bregman’s words under "interesting but impractical"? Or will they start asking: Who in my network pushes me to do more? Who holds me accountable when I’m tempted to take the easy way out? Who’s willing to go deeper — even if it costs us something?
That’s the real test. Not whether the crowd clapped. But whether they acted.
Bregman uses "radical do-gooders" to describe small, tightly-knit groups of individuals who prioritize high-impact social change over broad appeal. These aren’t charity volunteers or CSR teams — they’re activists within business who push each other to set higher moral standards, refuse compromise, and embrace discomfort as part of the process. Examples he cited include abolitionists and suffragettes — movements that began with a few dozen committed people, not millions.
He argues that historical movements for justice didn’t succeed by trying to appeal to everyone — they succeeded because they created intense, insulated communities of shared purpose. These "bubbles" allowed members to speak truth without fear, experiment with bold ideas, and reinforce each other’s courage. Trying to make your message palatable to the mainstream, he warns, often means watering it down until it’s meaningless.
Most leadership books tell you to be resilient, adaptable, and likable. Bregman tells you to be uncompromising, intentional, and willing to be unpopular. He rejects the self-help trope that success means making life easier. Instead, he says meaningful change requires choosing difficulty — not as a punishment, but as a strategy. It’s leadership as moral discipline, not performance.
It’s for CEOs and founders of certified B Corps and other purpose-driven businesses that align with B Corp values — even if they aren’t formally certified. The 2024 summit, held in Amsterdam, drew over 1,000 attendees focused on "moral ambition," meaning they prioritize social and environmental impact alongside profit. It’s a space for leaders who are tired of greenwashing and want to build businesses that truly change systems.
No. Bregman focused on historical movements — abolitionists, suffragettes — rather than naming current organizations or individuals. His message was deliberately universal: the principles that drove past revolutions apply today. The absence of named examples was intentional, shifting focus from personalities to patterns of behavior and community dynamics.
The Pioneers Post editorial noted that Bregman’s talk coincided with the UK impact sector reacting to the announcement of a general election, though no date was given. This context suggests that business leaders are anticipating policy shifts — potentially stricter regulations on corporate responsibility or cuts to social programs. Bregman’s message may be a rallying cry: if government won’t lead, then purpose-driven businesses must lead harder — together.