Hardwired for impact

The World of Liesbet Podcast episode - With Setareh Tashighian [Link]
If you’ve been listening to The World of Liesbet for a while, you know I love talking to agents of change.
Usually, my guests are people who are already well underway.
They carry years of experience, clear perspectives, and tangible successes.
They can look back at their trajectory and map out exactly how they got there.
But with this episode, I wanted to explore the moment where things are still taking shape.
The phase where the clay is still wet, the path ahead is blurry, and the questions are still wide open, but where an inner voice is urgently whispering: this matters.
I wanted to capture that raw, beautiful energy of a movement in its early, formative days.
When Setareh Tasdighian reached out to me, I felt that exact spark.
Setareh is a senior postdoc scientist in immunology at Ghent University and a mathematician by training.
But she is also the driving force behind Women in Data Science (WiDS) Belgium, a community she fearlessly established as a formal non-profit to bring diversity, visibility, and connection to the Belgian tech field.
What struck me most during our conversation wasn't just her impressive resume, or even the sheer amount of work she pulls off.
It was something deeper.
Her will to create a fairer world isn't a calculated choice or a strategic career move.
It feels completely intrinsic.
It’s as if she is simply, beautifully, hardwired for impact.
The girl who walked away
When I asked her if she sees herself as an agent of change, she was beautifully modest. "If I am, it's quite unconscious," she told me with a smile. For Setareh, standing up when something is unfair is just a default setting.
She told me a story from her youth in Iran that I haven't been able to stop thinking about.
When she was 18, her high school decided to ban the lower-ranking students from a highly anticipated class trip.
Setareh was at the absolute top of her class; her spot on that bus was entirely safe. But the blatant unfairness of it ate at her. When the headmaster brushed off her protests, she didn't just sit down and accept her privilege. She chose radical solidarity: she refused to go.
Instead, she stayed home, and quietly inspired her closest friends to boycott the trip too.
Looking back at that decision, she used a phrase that hit me deeply: "I felt at peace."
Hearing her talk about that 18-year-old girl, I realized: when the world skews unfair, Setareh physically cannot just look the other way.
It is in her bones.
From a poster to a "small spark"
Years later, working in Belgium, that same instinct flared up when she saw a poster at work about the gender pay gap in tech. Her internal response was immediate: "I just didn't want to look at it."
She attended a WiDS conference in Zurich, and as she describes the birth of WiDS Belgium, she told me: "It felt like a small spark."
We often think we need permissions, boards, and elaborate plans before we can act.
But Setareh completely rejected that idea.
As she beautifully put it: "You don't need a heavy structure to do something."
You just need to take the first step.
Before she knew it, she was navigating the complex corporate laws of Belgium to set up a standalone non-profit.
The weight we carry when we care too much
But what I loved most about our conversation was our honesty about the shadow side of that drive.
Because when you are hardwired to do good, you also carry an immense, often invisible weight.
Setareh and I talked about the unique friction of running an organization built entirely on volunteers:
You have zero traditional authority: You can’t just demand results; your only currency is inspiration and making people want to show up.
Guarding the cultural core: Setareh explained how crucial—and exhausting—it is to constantly protect that “cultural core” of empathy and solidarity against differing personal agendas or people just looking for quick visibility.
You are the ultimate safety net: When deadlines approach and volunteer energy inevitably dips, you are the one who stays up late, sacrifices personal time, and carries the final responsibility.
When the impact becomes real
When I asked her: how do you know it's worth it? Her face lit up when she shared her testimonials of real, human impact. She told me about women who came up to her after events, looking her in the eyes, saying how much they needed this community.
She spoke about a young woman who found a mentor through WiDS, completely reshaping her confidence and career path.
And then she mentioned the emails.
Simple, heartfelt messages from women saying, "Thank you for doing this. I finally feel seen."
In those quiet moments, the heavy structure, the late-night administrative headaches, and the exhaustion just melt away. The small spark becomes a campfire.
A gentle reminder (also for myself)
Still, as I listened to Setareh talk about the intense pressure she puts on herself, feeling personally responsible for every hiccup in her team, I felt a deep wave of recognition.
I’ve been there.
Years ago, I had to close down a project I poured my heart into, and the guilt and self-critique were overwhelming.
I shared a mantra with her that I still have to whisper to myself sometimes:
If the collective outcome isn’t perfect, it is not exclusively your fault.
You are a guide, Setareh, but you cannot carry the weight of the entire world on your own shoulders.
What Setareh is building with WiDS Belgium is what philosopher Joanna Macy calls 'active hope'.
It’s the choice to look at a complicated reality, see what is broken, and use your natural talents to build a solution step-by-step.
This episode is a beautiful reminder for anyone who cares deeply.
You don’t need a flawless corporate blueprint to start making a difference. Sometimes, simply trusting that inner, hardwired instinct to do good is more than enough.
Listen to the full, intimate conversation with Setareh Tasdighian on Spotify using this link.





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