Working at OpenGov was, frankly, one of the most frustrating professional experiences I’ve had—and a big part of that came down to leadership. Coming from a deep government background, it was hard to ignore the fact that I—and many others on the ground—had far more real-world understanding of the public sector than the people in the C-suite. Yet those same mangers were the ones setting strategy, quotas, and expectations, often with complete confidence and very little practical insight.
What made it worse wasn’t just the gap in experience—it was the attitude. Interactions with senior leadership could feel patronizing and dismissive, as if expertise from the field was something to be talked over rather than learned from. Instead of listening, there was a tendency to double down on flawed assumptions. Feedback about the realities of government procurement, relationship-building, and sales timelines was often brushed aside, replaced with generic, private-sector tech sales playbooks that simply don’t translate.
That disconnect had real consequences. Unrealistic quotas weren’t just numbers—they were symptoms of a leadership team that didn’t understand the environment they were operating in. And when those targets inevitably weren’t met, the blame didn’t go upward—it stayed with the reps, creating a culture of frustration and burnout.
Layer on top of that a disjointed, private equity-style structure and a product that was difficult to justify at its price point, and it became clear that the challenges weren’t isolated—they were systemic. But the most discouraging part was knowing that the people at the top, who were often the least equipped to understand the space, were also the least willing to admit it.
In the end, it felt less like being part of a team and more like being talked down to by leadership that was not only out of touch, but unwilling to recognize its own shortcomings.
