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By:

Rahul Kulkarni

30 March 2025 at 3:32:54 pm

The Boundary Collapse

When kindness becomes micromanagement It started with a simple leave request.   “Hey, can I take Friday off? Need a personal day,” Meera messaged Rohit. Rohit replied instantly:   “Of course. All good. Just stay reachable if anything urgent comes up.”   He meant it as reassurance. But the team didn’t hear reassurance. They heard a rule.   By noon, two things had shifted inside The Workshop:   Meera felt guilty for even asking. Everyone else quietly updated their mental handbook: Leave is...

The Boundary Collapse

When kindness becomes micromanagement It started with a simple leave request.   “Hey, can I take Friday off? Need a personal day,” Meera messaged Rohit. Rohit replied instantly:   “Of course. All good. Just stay reachable if anything urgent comes up.”   He meant it as reassurance. But the team didn’t hear reassurance. They heard a rule.   By noon, two things had shifted inside The Workshop:   Meera felt guilty for even asking. Everyone else quietly updated their mental handbook: Leave is allowed… but not really. This is boundary collapse… when a leader’s good intentions unintentionally blur the limits that protect autonomy and rest. When care quietly turns into control Founders rarely intend to micromanage.   What looks like control from the outside often starts as care from the inside. “Let me help before something breaks.” “Let me stay involved so we don’t lose time.” “Loop me in… I don’t want you stressed.” Supportive tone.   Good intentions.   But one invisible truth defines workplace psychology: When power says “optional,” it never feels optional.
So when a client requested a revision, Rohit gently pinged:   “If you’re free, could you take a look?” Of course she logged in.   Of course she handled it.   And by Monday, the cultural shift was complete: Leave = location change, not a boundary.   A founder’s instinct had quietly become a system. Pattern 1: The Generous Micromanager Modern micromanagement rarely looks aggressive. It looks thoughtful :   “Let me refine this so you’re not stuck.” “I’ll review it quickly.”   “Share drafts so we stay aligned.”   Leaders believe they’re being helpful. Teams hear:   “You don’t fully trust me.” “I should check with you before finishing anything.”   “My decisions aren’t final.” Gentle micromanagement shrinks ownership faster than harsh micromanagement ever did because people can’t challenge kindness. Pattern 2: Cultural conditioning around availability In many Indian workplaces, “time off” has an unspoken footnote: Be reachable. Just in case. No one says it directly.   No one pushes back openly.   The expectation survives through habit: Leave… but monitor messages. Rest… but don’t disconnect. Recover… but stay alert. Contrast this with a global team we worked with: A designer wrote,   “I’ll be off Friday, but available if needed.” Her manager replied:   “If you’re working on your off-day, we mismanaged the workload… not the boundary.”   One conversation.   Two cultural philosophies.   Two completely different emotional outcomes.   Pattern 3: The override reflex Every founder has a version of this reflex.   Whenever Rohit sensed risk, real or imagined, he stepped in: Rewriting copy.   Adjusting a design.   Rescoping a task.   Reframing an email. Always fast.   Always polite.   Always “just helping.” But each override delivered one message:   “Your autonomy is conditional.” You own decisions…   until the founder feels uneasy.   You take initiative…   until instinct replaces delegation.   No confrontation.   No drama.   Just quiet erosion of confidence.   The family-business amplification Boundary collapse becomes extreme in family-managed companies.   We worked with one firm where four family members… founder, spouse, father, cousin… all had informal authority. Everyone cared.   Everyone meant well.   But for employees, decision-making became a maze: Strategy approved by the founder.   Aesthetics by the spouse.   Finance by the father. Tone by the cousin.   They didn’t need leadership.   They needed clarity.   Good intentions without boundaries create internal anarchy. The global contrast A European product team offered a striking counterexample.   There, the founder rarely intervened mid-stream… not because of distance, but because of design:   “If you own the decision, you own the consequences.” Decision rights were clear.   Escalation paths were explicit.   Authority didn’t shift with mood or urgency. No late-night edits.   No surprise rewrites.   No “quick checks.”   No emotional overrides. As one designer put it:   “If my boss wants to intervene, he has to call a decision review. That friction protects my autonomy.” The result:   Faster execution, higher ownership and zero emotional whiplash. Boundaries weren’t personal.   They were structural .   That difference changes everything. Why boundary collapse is so costly Its damage is not dramatic.   It’s cumulative.   People stop resting → you get presence, not energy.   People stop taking initiative → decisions freeze.   People stop trusting empowerment → autonomy becomes theatre.   People start anticipating the boss → performance becomes emotional labour.   People burn out silently → not from work, but from vigilance.   Boundary collapse doesn’t create chaos.   It creates hyper-alertness, the heaviest tax on any team. The real paradox Leaders think they’re being supportive. Teams experience supervision.   Leaders assume boundaries are obvious. Teams see boundaries as fluid. Leaders think autonomy is granted. Teams act as though autonomy can be revoked at any moment. This is the Boundary Collapse → a misunderstanding born not from intent, but from the invisible weight of power. Micromanagement today rarely looks like anger.   More often,   it looks like kindness without limits. (Rahul Kulkarni is Co-founder at PPS Consulting. He patterns the human mechanics of scaling where workplace behavior quietly shapes business outcomes. Views personal.)

Between Expediency and Indifference: The Arab States’ Paradox with Palestinians

Updated: Oct 22, 2024

The Arab States’ Paradox with Palestinians

The conflict between Israel and Hamas has sparked an exodus of hundreds of thousands of Palestinian refugees from Gaza since Israel’s retaliation began following the Hamas attacks of October 7, 2023. Following Israel’s ferocious and unrelenting pounding of Gaza amid much moral outrage, there has long been talk indicating that Israel’s conservative government led by Benjamin Netanhayu are aiming for the wholescale expulsion of Gaza’s Palestinian population.

The Arab States’ Paradox with Palestinians

What was striking in the immediate days and months following the October 7 attacks was the markedly muted reaction from the Arab states. While Saudi Arabia, a major U.S. ally in the region, has left the door ajar for peace with Israel, and Morocco, Bahrain, and the UAE refrained from recalling their ambassadors, only Jordan, where Palestinians constitute a large portion of the population, has taken significant diplomatic steps.

This tepid response underscored a long-standing reality: the Palestinian cause, though emotionally resonant with the Arab public, rarely sways government policy in the Arab states who have largely been indifferent to the plight of the Palestinians.

The Arab States’ Paradox with Palestinians

This tension between Palestinians and their Arab hosts has had deep roots. The Nakba of 1948 (when hundreds of thousands of Palestinians were displaced by the creation of Israel) was a blow to the legitimacy of Arab regimes who had failed to stifle the nascent Jewish state in its cradle.

A pivotal moment in the relations between the Palestinians and the Arab States came in the wake of the resounding Israeli victory in the Six-Day war of 1967, which trounced the coalition of Egypt-led Arab states and saw a dramatic series of territorial changes.

The expansion of Israel was followed by a major expulsion of Palestinians in 1948 and led to the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) emerging as an assertive, somewhat independent voice of the Palestinians. Before this, the Palestinian cause was largely subsumed under broader Arab military agendas.

But after 1967, Palestinians began asserting their independence, a shift that unsettled Arab leaders. Their fears were well-founded: the PLO’s increasing autonomy in places like Lebanon led to unrest, culminating in conflicts such as the Israeli invasion of 1982, which dismantled PLO structures in Beirut.

In an insightful interview given to the American magazine Politico in January, former U.S. Ambassador Ryan Crocker observed that despite decades of vocal support for Palestinian rights, many Arab governments have long harboured feelings of “fear and loathing” toward the Palestinians - a sentiment particularly strong in Egypt, which continues to resist opening its borders to fleeing Gazans.

Arab governments, fearing internal instability, sought to contain Palestinian activism and the aftermath of the 1967 war solidified this policy shift: rather than confronting Israel, Arab states focused on controlling the Palestinian populations within their own borders, said Crocker.

Crocker suggests that Arab states’ indifference to the Palestinians indicates that Netanyahu would need to offer only minimal concessions - vague promises of autonomy rather than substantive statehood to the Palestinians during negotiations.

The most dramatic example of this internal tussle between the PLO and the Arab states occurred during ‘Black September’ in 1970, when the PLO attempted to overthrow the Jordanian monarchy. Syrian forces, led by Hafez al-Assad, withheld support, allowing Jordan to crush the uprising. The irony here is while Arab states publicly supported Palestinian rights, they often took actions that undermined the Palestinian cause, as Assad’s anti-PLO policies in Syria and Jordan’s military response in 1970 illustrate.

Despite fiery rhetoric about Palestinian liberation, many Arab governments viewed the PLO and its secular nationalism as a threat to their own sovereignty. Even Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser, Israel’s most dogged adversary, once warned of the dangers posed by Palestinian militancy.

This would explain Egypt’s vehement refusal to grant refuge to Gazans during the current conflict - a stance reinforced by the ideological divide between Hamas, with its roots in the Muslim Brotherhood, and the Egyptian regime.

Despite strong public support for the Palestinian cause, Arab states often prioritized their national interests over solidarity with the PLO. Financial pledges from Arab countries frequently went unfulfilled; for instance, a 1978 inter-Arab agreement promised substantial funding to the PLO, but only Saudi Arabia honoured its commitment. As military defeats and internal conflicts mounted, Arab states grew increasingly hesitant to confront Israel, leading to a shift from supporting the Palestinian struggle to seeking individual peace agreements.

The late 20th century marked a turning point, particularly after Egypt’s peace treaty with Israel in 1979, which isolated Cairo within the Arab League. The end of the Cold War further transformed the geopolitical landscape, diminishing the influence of radical regimes and prompting moderate Arab states to pursue closer ties with the United States. By the early 1990s, many Arab states began engaging in talks with Israel.

The June 1996 Arab summit underscored a strategic decision to recognize Israel, even amid lingering hostility from certain nations.

Perhaps the biggest irony today is in Shia Iran’s support for the Sunni Hamas. Certainly, the two ideologically opposed entities have only their sworn enmity with Israel in common. But the past sheds light on a dark chapter, largely forgotten in the West and elsewhere today.

In the early days of the Lebanese Civil War, in 1975, the Tall al-Za‘tar refugee camp in East Beirut was besieged by Lebanese militias and ultimately levelled to the ground. A decade later, in 1985, just three years after the infamous Shatila massacre, another horrific chapter unfolded in what became known as the “War of the Camps.” Lebanese Shia militias, backed by Syria and Iran, laid siege to the Palestinian camps of Shatila and Bourj el-Barajneh, with the fighting and blockades lasting nearly three years. Untold numbers of Palestinians were killed or wounded during this brutal period.

The irony, of course, is in today’s narrative. Iran, which is now seen as a major backer of Hamas and a purported supporter of the Palestinian cause, was very much part of the forces that once besieged these same Palestinians. Their relationship is less about ideological solidarity and more a marriage of convenience—another tool in Iran’s broader strategy of projecting influence and power across the region through alliances with militias and proxies.

While the West and the rest of the World may not remember the “War of the Camps,” both the Iranians and Palestinians do. Today, Tehran’s support for the Palestinian cause is tactical, and not born out of any deep-seated love for the Palestinian people or their struggle.

The tensions between Palestinians and their Arab hosts was starkly illustrated last month in Jordan’s parliamentary elections when Jordan’s Islamist opposition, the Islamic Action Front - the political arm of the Muslim Brotherhood - captured a fifth of the seats in Jordan’s 138-member parliament, channelling the growing fury over Israel’s actions in Gaza into electoral gains.

While the Front is now the largest opposition bloc, its influence remains curtailed by the limitations of Jordan’s legislative body, where pro-government factions still hold sway. But the gains made by the Islamists signal a deepening undercurrent of dissatisfaction driven by a sense of betrayal - both by Israel and by Arab governments - who, in the eyes of many, have failed to act decisively in defence of the Palestinians.

(Tomorrow, we look at Israel’s long engagement in Lebanon, from its intervention in the Lebanese Civil War and 1982 occupation of the southern half of the country to its ongoing mortal combat with Hezbollah)

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