As the United States approaches its 250th anniversary, one of its best-known mottos feels especially relevant: “E pluribus unum—Out of many, one.”
This motto was suggested by a committee on July 4, 1776, and can still be found on the one-dollar bill. It represents the thirteen colonies that banded together to fight for independence and soon became one nation. Over time, that nation grew to fifty states, yet remained unified.
Two hundred and fifty years later, as we watch our nation splintering into fragmented groups who are growing increasingly suspicious of one another, the Founding Fathers’ idea is more urgent than ever. How do you bring together people with different perspectives and personalities to function as a unified team? And just as importantly, how do you do so without forcing them all to think the same way? In other words, how do you build real unity without demanding uniformity?
In many organizations, there is an unspoken assumption that if everyone agrees, things are going well. Meetings run smoothly, decisions are made quickly, and there is little visible tension. But that kind of “unity” can be misleading. Sometimes it reflects genuine alignment, but more often, it reflects something else: people holding back. They may not want to challenge a supervisor, disrupt the flow or be seen as difficult. So they nod along, even when they have reservations. That is not unity. It is uniformity. And while it may feel efficient in the moment, it comes at a cost. You lose better ideas, honest feedback and the kind of thoughtful pushback that leads to stronger decisions. The American ideal behind E pluribus unum was never about eliminating differences, but about finding a way to move forward together despite them.
For the Jewish people, this is not a new challenge; it is one our tradition has long grappled with. Chazal recognized the value of machloket l’shem Shamayim, disagreement for a higher purpose. The debates between Beit Hillel and Beit Shammai or between the Amoraim in the Gemara were sharp and substantive yet part of a single mesorah. Disagreement did not weaken the system; it strengthened it.
We see a similar idea in the structure of Klal Yisrael. The Shevatim were distinct, each with its own identity and role. Yet when they camped in the midbar, they arranged themselves around a shared center: the Mishkan. The Mishkan itself was built from a wide range of materials contributed by the different Shevatim, men and women alike, each in their own way. Its strength came not from uniformity, but from the integration of those differences into something cohesive.
If unity doesn’t come from everyone thinking the same way, where does it come from?
First, from a clear and shared sense of mission and purpose. People can disagree on tactics, priorities or even strategy, but they must agree on what they are ultimately trying to accomplish. Without that shared mission, differences pull teams apart; with it, those same differences can propel a team forward.
At the OU, this idea has taken on renewed focus through a new strategy we call “One OU,” an effort to more intentionally align our programs, people and resources around a shared mission: to build a growing, religiously vibrant and caring community by harnessing the Orthodox community’s Torah values, talent and networks to move communal solutions forward. The goal is not to erase the distinct strengths of individual programs, but to connect them more deliberately so that we maximize our performance as a coordinated engine serving Klal Yisrael. In that sense, “One OU” is a contemporary expression of E pluribus unum: many parts, aligned around a shared purpose. Effective leaders return frequently to the shared mission, framing discussions not as “Who’s right?” but as “What best advances what we are here to do?”
Second, unity depends on creating an environment where people feel comfortable speaking up. Today we might call this “psychological safety,” but the concept is familiar. If machloket l’shem Shamayim is a value, then people must feel safe expressing disagreement. Otherwise, discussions remain superficial. In practice, creating that kind of environment often comes down to a few basic habits: clear communication, thoughtful coordination and a willingness to collaborate.
If unity doesn’t come from everyone thinking the same way, where does it come from?
In our OU office, we have worked to strengthen these areas, often referring to them as the “3 Cs.” Communication ensures that information, expectations and reasoning are clearly shared, reducing misunderstandings that can fracture a team. Coordination helps ensure that teams are not working at cross purposes and that they understand how their efforts connect within a broader system. Collaboration creates space for differing perspectives to be actively engaged rather than sidelined. Recently, we have begun extending this approach to the broader OU community. Our Department of Synagogue Initiatives is available for consultation with synagogue leadership, helping translate the “One OU” model and the “3 Cs” into practice within OU synagogues and affiliated organizations.
When implemented well, these practices do not eliminate disagreement; they make it far more likely that it will be constructive and aligned with a shared mission. Leaders play a central role in shaping this environment. If a leader reacts defensively to criticism, people notice. If a leader rewards only agreement, others will hesitate to speak up. When leaders actively seek input, listen carefully and take disagreement seriously, they signal that differing views are not just tolerated, but genuinely valued.
As we’ve written in these pages before, one of the simplest—and most difficult—things for leaders to do well is to listen: not listening to respond, but listening to understand. The sages of Beit Hillel were known for presenting the views of Beit Shammai before their own (Eruvin 13b). That practice reflects the discipline of understanding another position before challenging it. In a workplace setting, this can translate into a simple but powerful habit: Before rejecting an idea, ensure you can explain it clearly and fairly. It may slow the conversation slightly, but it improves both the discussion and the outcome.
The US Constitution speaks about forming “a more perfect union.” The phrasing is deliberate. Unity is not something achieved once and then completed, nor is it something that can be reached smoothly or perfectly. It requires ongoing attention and intention. The same is true for leadership. As teams evolve, as new people join, and as priorities shift, the balance between individuality and cohesion must be revisited. What worked a year ago may no longer work today. Maintaining unity is less about a single initiative and more about a consistent approach—how decisions are made, how disagreements are handled, and how people are treated day to day.
Efforts like “One OU” reflect this ongoing work, not as a one-time alignment, but as a continued commitment to keeping diverse strengths connected to a shared purpose. As divisions between nations and within families continue to grow, E pluribus unum offers a useful framework for thinking about unity. The goal is not to eliminate differences or create a team of identical thinkers; rather, it is to bring together individuals with different strengths and perspectives and intentionally align them around a shared purpose. This requires clarity, patience and the courage to engage with views that may challenge your own. When embraced fully, this approach produces a stronger, more resilient whole—one that is greater than the sum of its parts. Such unity—built from those differences rather than despite them—is not only more effective but also the means through which we, as a community, continue to translate Torah values into meaningful, lasting impact.
Rabbi Dr. Josh Joseph is OU executive vice president/chief operating officer.