#Reorgs (Ep 3)
Episode 3In Episode 3 of the podcast, I’m joined by Aaron Mitchell, my former boss at Netflix, to tackle the challenging topic of reorgs—a buzzword that often represents the most difficult responsibilities in HR. His first experience? The heart-wrenching decision to let his own father go.
About Aaron
In 2009, a rare marvel occurred in the world of HR: a simple deck about culture went viral. Netflix’s famed culture memo, a manifesto for what HR could and should be, struck a chord so deep that I found myself borrowing from it shamelessly. Yet, from 2009 to 2021, I never once applied to work at the very place that birthed it.
Fate intervened when I was referred for a VP role in finance but then I was introduced to Aaron Mitchell, who was, at the time, leading HR for Netflix’s animation division, far removed from finance. Our 30-minute call felt almost otherworldly, as though we were kindred spirits reunited. After further conversations, Aaron offered me a role—a dream job under a truly extraordinary leader.
Aaron Mitchell is not your typical HR executive. He’s the guy who, during his tenure at Netflix, stepped far outside the traditional boundaries of HR to rewrite what leadership could look like. Aaron was also the bold thinker featured on the cover of Wired magazine for orchestrating Netflix’s groundbreaking decision to move $100 million in cash deposits to Black-owned banks in the wake of George Floyd’s murder. It was an audacious move, one he initiated by simply writing to Reid Hastings, Netflix’s co-founder and then-CEO. The decision was historic—not just because it was the largest such redistribution of funds by a corporation but because it was catalyzed by someone in HR, a role often confined to safer, quieter waters.
The term “thought leader” is buzzwordy, but Aaron embodies it with grace. His ability to unravel complexity, honor diverse perspectives, and listen so profoundly continues to be a masterclass. Working under Aaron wasn’t just a professional experience; it was a transformative one. He taught me that sometimes the most extraordinary leadership doesn’t look like commanding the room but like quietly reshaping the world from behind the scenes.
