how am I supposed to respect my buffoon of a boss?

A reader writes:

I know this is the way of the world sometimes, but my (very good) boss, Ray, got promoted (yay!) and a new guy, Seth, was put in in his place. Unfortunately, Seth … isn’t good.

He’s never managed managers before, but he’s got friends in high places and he didn’t have to interview for the role. He was coming from a different part of the business, but I was still happy to work with him because his old team supposedly loved him and he had a reputation for being good with clients, which is something we needed help with.

It’s been a disaster. Seth’s not a uniquely bad boss, but he has a lot of classic bad boss traits. He confidently promises deliveries without understanding what he’s talking about, loves the sound of his own voice and talks over the actual subject matter expert, is prone to making excuses even if they’re factually wrong, and is allergic to the words “I’m sorry” when the discrepancy is pointed out. His “support” adds chaos, and his spinelessness is impressive. I could go on because there’s so much more, but I feel like you get the picture.

It’s only been a few months, but he’s managed to burn bridges with most of the department. I’ve spoken to Seth’s manager and my skip (Ray). I know Ray is coaching him (he’s silent in meetings now instead of promising impossible deadlines), but it seems like even he might be at a loss for how to coach him.

Unfortunately, Seth’s got a long history at the company and great connections, so it’s incredibly unlikely he’ll be removed, even if he’s obviously out of his depth.

Like I said, I know this is the norm. He’s not going to win worst boss 2026. He’s not even my first bad boss, and most readers are probably thinking, “Okay, but you think that’s bad, wait till you hear about my boss.” But nevertheless, he grates on me more than any bad boss I’ve had, and I think it’s because he doesn’t seem to have any redeeming qualities.

Most of my bad bosses were good at their independent-contributor roles and got Peter-Principled up to management even if they weren’t a good fit, but at least I could learn something from them. He was never an independent contributor in our field, and his past work doesn’t have much overlap with ours. For the last few months, I’ve been trying to figure out what I can learn from him, and not only have I come up with nothing, I’ve lost all respect for him as a manager in the process.

I know I still need to make a good show of it, both for him and for my reports, but I don’t think he’s going to get better, and listening to him relish the sound of his own voice in our syncs is getting harder every week.

I’m looking for new jobs, but in the meantime, what would you suggest when it comes to pretending to respect a weasel?

Much of work is an act, at least some of the time. This is just accepting and implementing that in a new way.

You don’t need to respect Seth himself; rather, you respect the position he inhabits. You recognize that his job gives him certain rights of decision-making, and you respect that. That’s different than needing to respect his character or his intellect or him as a person.

The key to doing it is the thing that’s so often the key to surviving work: to emotionally detach and care less.

Detaching emotionally can be tough because it can be maddening to watch a buffoon at the helm, especially if you’re someone conscientious who cares about you and your team doing good work. Try reminding yourself, repeatedly, that you’re not being paid to worry more than your company’s management does about Seth’s capabilities. If you can really embrace that, it can be liberating. You don’t have to care.

It can also help to get really clear in your own head about what is and isn’t likely to change and why you’ve chosen to stay in this job for now (presumably a calculation that the paycheck is worth it) … and focus on those pay-offs.

Last, find the entertainment value in the buffoonery if you can. You don’t want to let that grow to the point of bitter cynicism (or maybe you do — but life is more pleasant if you don’t), but there’s nothing that says you can’t find ways to be amused by the spectacle of Seth while you’re stuck there.