Publishing has always been in the business of feeling.

Books stay with us not because of what they say, but because of what they make us feel – the recognition of seeing ourselves on the page, the discomfort of being challenged, the thrill of discovery, the quiet shift in how we understand the world. Readers do not just consume stories, they experience them. And the publishing industry understands this deeply when it comes to its audiences.

Yet this reveals a deeper and more uncomfortable truth: publishing has not always applied this same emotional intelligence to itself.

This is the central tension the industry now faces. Publishing understands the emotional power of stories but must now confront the emotional reality of its own workplaces. Because how work feels shapes whether people can contribute fully, whether relationships thrive and whether the industry can deliver on its ambitions.

And here lies a striking disconnect. While publishing excels at shaping emotional journeys externally, its internal cultures can still default to the cognitive and transactional: decisions framed as rational, systems designed for efficiency and behaviours that go largely unexamined so long as outcomes are delivered.

Policies. Processes. Metrics. All necessary. All visible. But not enough. 

Organisational culture is not only what is written down. It is what is consistently felt, reinforced and experienced over time.

Across UK publishing, there has been meaningful progress in recent years, particularly around diversity, representation and access. Yet alongside this sits a persistent gap between intent and experience, one that risks undermining trust, retention and the very diversity the sector is working to build. People join organisations full of promise but do not always feel able to contribute fully. Teams speak about openness yet operate with unspoken hierarchies of voice. Leaders commit to inclusion, but feedback cultures remain cautious or avoidant.

This is not a failure of intent. It is a reflection of something deeper.

Across UK publishing, there has been meaningful progress in recent years, particularly around diversity, representation and access. Yet alongside this sits a persistent gap between intent and experience

Publishing is not short of values, vision or purpose. But values do not drive behaviour on their own. Purpose does not guarantee experience. What shapes behaviour is something far more immediate: how it feels to be here.

The lived experience of work determines whether values are trusted or quietly discounted. “Openness” means little if speaking up feels risky. “Inclusion” erodes if challenge is met with defensiveness. A purpose centred on amplifying voices rings hollow if internal voices struggle to be heard. 

Emotional culture is how values are either brought to life, or contradicted in practice. And it is built in everyday interactions. In how feedback is given or avoided. In how disagreement is handled. In whether pressure is acknowledged or normalised. These moments signal what is safe, what is risky and what is expected and, over time, they shape behaviour more powerfully than any statement of intent.

They also shape how people feel, and those feelings travel. Energy, anxiety, openness or defensiveness move quickly through teams, influencing decisions, relationships and creative work. Much of this remains below the surface. Teams sense tension but lack language to name it. Leaders notice disengagement without fully understanding its source. Conversations stay focused on outputs, while emotional realities go unspoken.

When this happens, organisations lose access to vital information.

Because emotions are not noise in the system. They are data, and often the earliest signal that something is not working as intended. Ignoring this data does not make it disappear. It simply shapes behaviour indirectly, often reinforcing the very patterns organisations are trying to change.

This is no longer optional. It is where intentional, compassionate leadership becomes essential. This means not only setting direction but shaping the conditions in which others work, and asking not just what we are delivering, but how this is being experienced.

Crucially, this work is practical. Developing a shared language for emotional experience and creating space to talk about how work feels can surface hidden dynamics and enable more honest dialogue. Small shifts in how teams reflect and respond begin to change patterns of experience and, over time, behaviour.

For publishing, the implications extend beyond internal culture. This is an industry built on relationships, particularly between editors and authors, where trust and emotional connection are central. Internal cultures that feel pressured or overly transactional inevitably shape how those relationships are experienced. If the sector is serious about inclusion, retention and creative excellence, this layer of culture cannot remain implicit.

What is needed now is not a rejection of existing efforts, but a deepening of them. A shift from what organisations say they value to whether those values can be consistently felt. A move from culture as intent to culture as lived experience. And a redefinition of leadership as the ongoing practice of shaping how work is experienced by others.

Publishing has long shaped how readers feel about the world. There is now an opportunity to apply that same insight internally.

The future of publishing will depend not only on the stories it tells, but on whether the people behind those stories feel safe, heard and able to do their best work.