Jeffrey Wright’s character delivers a searing truth in the new Apple+ film Highest or Lowest alongside Denzel Washington: you either build or you destroy, beloved. The line is simple but devastating in its clarity. It refuses neutrality. It tells us that in life, in politics, and in community, there are only two directions. You are either contributing to the creation of something better or you are complicit in its erosion. That kind of language pierces through the fog of excuses that so often cloud our public debates. We want to believe we can stand in the middle, that by choosing not to decide we somehow escape responsibility. Wright’s character reminds us that the fence is not a safe place. It is a mirage.

Building in Politics

This stark choice plays out vividly in politics. Donald Trump campaigned as a builder, branding himself on towers and hotels and promising to construct a stronger America. Yet his political career has been defined less by building and more by destruction. He dismantled environmental protections, attempted to repeal the Affordable Care Act without offering a real alternative, fired en-masse the expertise in the federal government, and is focused on weakening international alliances. His rhetoric and policies have torn at the fabric of democratic norms rather than strengthening them. He marketed himself as a builder, but history is remembering him as someone who focused on tearing down.

Contrast that with Barack Obama, who passed the Affordable Care Act. That legislation, imperfect but significant, expanded healthcare access to millions and remains one of the most consequential acts of building in recent decades. Joe Biden likewise chose to build through the infrastructure bill, a massive investment in roads, bridges, broadband, and clean energy (which strangely Trump is trying to take credit for). These are the concrete actions that demonstrate what building looks like at the highest levels of government. They do not solve every problem, but they lay foundations that future generations can stand upon.

Building Beyond Politics

The choice between building and destroying is not limited to politics. It plays out in every field. In business, companies face a similar decision. Do they build sustainable practices, fair workplaces, and innovation that serves communities? Or do they destroy by exploiting workers, polluting environments, and focusing on quarterly profits at the expense of long-term health? Building in business might look like employee profit-sharing, climate-conscious supply chains, or investments in local communities. Destruction in business looks like wage theft, toxic workplaces, and monopolistic practices that choke out smaller competitors.

In nonprofits, the choice is equally clear. Nonprofits that build focus on empowering communities, developing leadership pipelines, and creating self-sustaining systems of support. They understand that charity without transformation is only temporary relief. Building nonprofits measure success not just in dollars raised but in lives changed over the long term. On the other hand, nonprofits that focus on destruction are often those that ignore the voices of the communities they claim to serve and waste resources on bureaucracy instead of mission (and life size portraits of Trump). The nonprofit sector is often lauded for good intentions, but Wright’s framing in Higher or Lowest reminds us that even here, intentions are not enough. Organizations are either creating pathways or standing in the way.

Education perhaps reveals the choice most starkly. Building in education is about creating inclusive classrooms, supporting teachers, and ensuring equitable funding. It is about adding counselors instead of police officers, investing in mental health supports, and providing resources for multilingual students. Destruction in education is seen when states ban books, cut public school funding, and demonize educators. Building in education is long, slow, and often unseen. Destruction such as district takeovers and de-funding grants is swift and headline-grabbing . But one leaves behind generations of empowered learners, and the other leaves behind hollowed-out institutions.

The Illusion of Maintenance

Between building and destroying sits the illusion of maintenance. It is tempting to think that maintaining the status quo is safe, but in a world marked by injustice, standing still is dangerous. Maintenance is not neutral; it is slow destruction. In business, refusing to innovate leads to collapse. In nonprofits, recycling the same programs without adapting to community needs results in irrelevance. In education, ignoring the changing demographics of classrooms or the mental health needs of students guarantees decline. Maintenance might feel comfortable, but it is an illusion. You cannot preserve something that is already eroding. The choice is not whether to change but whether to change in ways that build or in ways that destroy.

Wright’s line forces us to confront the urgency of choice beyond maintenance. Every day leaders make decisions that tilt toward one side or the other. Do we build trust with transparency, or destroy it with secrecy? Do we build inclusive policies, or destroy community through exclusion? Do we build sustainable economies, or destroy futures by burning through our resources? The illusion of neutrality is shattered when we realize that not choosing is itself a choice. History has never remembered silence kindly. Those who stood by while destruction advanced are judged alongside those who swung the hammer.

A Little Crazy in This World

The other piece of wisdom from Wright’s character is equally important: you gotta be a little crazy in this world to get what you want. Building often requires that little bit of “crazy.” It means seeing possibilities where others only see obstacles. It means believing in schools as spaces of liberation when others reduce them to test factories. It means imagining a business model where workers thrive alongside profits. It means designing nonprofits that measure success in empowerment rather than dependency.

This kind of crazy is what fuels movements and innovations. The eight-hour workday, women’s suffrage, civil rights, same-sex marriage, climate activism—all of these were once called crazy. They required individuals and communities to risk ridicule in order to build something new. Without that spark, destruction wins by default.

Conclusion: The Call to Build

The hierarchy is clear. The highest choice is to build. The lowest is to destroy. Obama built healthcare access. Biden built infrastructure. Trump promised to build but is spending most of his time destroying. The same question applies to every one of us. Are we creating or dismantling? Are we adding bricks to the foundation, or pulling them out one by one? The next generation will not remember excuses. They will remember whether schools were opened or closed, whether communities were supported or abandoned, whether opportunities were created or crushed.

So we now return to the line that frames it all: “You either build or destroy, beloved.” That is the truth. “You gotta be a little crazy in this world to get what you want.” That is the challenge. The time is now. The choice is ours, whether in politics, business, education, nonprofits, or any area of pursuit. Build—or destroy.

My film rating for Highest or Lowest is *** of *****.

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Julian Vasquez Heilig is a nationally recognized education leader, scholar, and advocate for equity whose career spans seven senior leadership roles in higher education, including dean and provost. Known for driving innovation and measurable results, he has led institutional transformations that strengthened academic programs, advanced diversity and inclusion, expanded community partnerships, and elevated national rankings. His leadership is grounded in the belief that true progress requires both bold vision and fearless action.