Reposted from Tim Richardson

Don’t Let the Backpack Fool You: The Hidden Cost of Judging Others at Work

Early in my speaking career, I had the chance to hear author John Molloy speak—the man behind the bestselling book Dress for Success. His message struck a chord. As a young professional eager to grow my business and expand my influence, I took his advice to heart. From that point forward, anytime I went to a meeting, a conference, or any event where I thought I might meet someone important, I dressed like it mattered. Because I believed it did.

At the time, I drove a Jeep CJ7—a rugged, open-air ride that made me feel like I could tackle any mountain or beach road that crossed my path. One evening, I pulled into the parking lot at an Association for Talent Development (ATD) meeting. As I stepped out of the Jeep, a colleague I’d known for years stopped in her tracks and said, “Is that your Jeep?”

“Yeah, it’s mine,” I replied.

She squinted and said with mild surprise, “You don’t seem like a Jeep guy.”

I smiled, but her comment stuck with me. What exactly was a “Jeep guy”? And what box had I failed to check to be a “Jeep guy”?

This moment reminded me of another chapter in my own growth—when I first moved from Florida to Tennessee. I found myself judging people—unintentionally but honestly—based on how they spoke, the grammar they used, and the regional ways they pronounced certain words. I didn’t realize at the time how limiting and unfair those snap judgments could be. I now have many friends who are natives of the area.

Years later, I was at the National Speakers Association annual convention—an event aptly named Influence. While I was catching up with a colleague in the hallway, she pointed to my backpack and said, “You know, if you want to be taken seriously by hospital executives and corporate clients, you really should stop carrying that backpack. Get a leather briefcase—like a Maxwell Scott bag.”

Her comment, too, was a throwback to the Jeep parking lot moment.

Why would someone make assumptions about my credibility based on how I carry my laptop? Why do we associate a particular vehicle, bag, accent, or clothing brand with professionalism—or the lack of it?

The Problem with Perceptions in the Workplace

In today’s business environment, perception still holds tremendous weight—and while it can work in our favor, it can just as easily become a trap. When we judge colleagues or employees based on external cues—dress, speech, vehicle, accessories—we often miss what truly matters: their values, their work ethic, their authenticity, and their contribution.

Sure, branding has its place. Looking professional, speaking clearly, and demonstrating attention to detail are all part of presenting ourselves well. But there’s a dangerous line we cross when appearances start to override substance.

In many organizations, this shows up subtly:

• A team member is overlooked for leadership because they dress differently than the “corporate” norm.
• A junior employee’s accent or casual communication style is mistaken for a lack of intelligence.
• Someone working remotely is perceived as “less committed” because they don’t show up to in-person events.
• A leader is taken less seriously because they value practicality over prestige—choosing a functional backpack over a designer briefcase.

Realness Over Reputation

In business, as in life, authenticity matters. Yes, dress codes and professional standards exist for a reason. But they should never take the place of character, talent, or contribution.

As leaders, we have a responsibility to check our assumptions at the door—and to encourage our teams to do the same. This means:

• Hiring beyond appearances: Look for substance, not just polish.
• Listening actively: Tune into what’s being said, not how perfectly it’s packaged.
• Fostering psychological safety: Make room for people to show up as they are—backpacks, Jeeps, and all.
• Modeling authenticity: Your team doesn’t need a perfectly polished boss—they need a real one.

Final Thoughts

I may no longer drive a Jeep, but I’d gladly own one again and hope to soon. And yes—I still carry a backpack. Because I value function over flash. I value people over pretense. And I believe the best leaders are the ones who don’t just look the part—but who live it with honesty, humility, and heart.

So, the next time you find yourself forming an opinion about someone based on what they’re wearing, how they speak, or what they carry, stop and ask: Am I seeing the whole person—or just a surface-level version shaped by my own assumptions?

Because in the end, the strongest organizations—and the best relationships—are built not on impressions, but on integrity.

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