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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.)

Campus Clashes

Campus Clashes

The recent disruption of Diwali celebrations at Delhi’s Jamia Millia Islamia, marked by chants of “Palestine Zindabad,” offers a peculiar window into the mindset that has taken root within certain sections of India’s academic intelligentsia. Going by reports, a traditional Hindu festival, typically associated with light, joy, and unity, was interrupted by a group of students who imported an entirely unrelated geopolitical issue – Palestine - into the heart of an Indian university.


This pattern is becoming more common in so-called ‘progressive’ institutions where the spotlight seems to be fixed on international causes far removed from India’s own realities, often at the expense of domestic cultural harmony. One might question why these universities, supposedly dedicated to nurturing intellectual growth, have become hotbeds of protest over foreign conflicts that have little direct bearing on Indian society. The anti-Hindu sentiment displayed at Jamia, under the pretext of solidarity with Palestine, points to the steady misappropriation of global political issues to mask a deeper ideological discomfort with India’s traditional and cultural identity, particularly when that identity aligns with Hindu practices.


The irony here is stark. Many of the same students who rally against alleged ‘communalism’ in India —interpreting even benign Hindu celebrations as symbols of Hindu nationalism — are the loudest proponents of international struggles, from Black Lives Matter to Palestine. Their selective outrage raises serious questions about their motivations. Why should Palestine, a cause with its own complexities and nuances, take center stage at an Indian university during Diwali celebrations? The answer seems to lie in the adoption of global ‘progressive’ trends that prioritize perceived oppressions abroad while turning a blind eye to the cultural fabric of their own country. Unfortunately, this is not an isolated case; similar disruptions are not uncommon at institutions like Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU), Jamia Millia, and Delhi University, raising the question: why do such incidents persist?


These universities have become fertile ground for ideologies that, while critical of the Indian state, often manifest in anti-Hindu rhetoric. Protests on these campuses frequently veer into the territory of hostility, not just toward the government but also toward the cultural practices of a large section of Indian society.


Many of these institutions have historically been the breeding grounds for radical movements like Naxalism, that challenge the very notion of the Indian state. Protests initially aimed at critiquing government policies often morph into platforms for broader anti-India rhetoric, with fringe groups chanting slogans like ‘Bharat tere tukde honge.’ By shoehorning international conflicts into local cultural events, they risk trivializing both the struggles of people abroad and the traditions at home. What is achieved by chanting ‘Palestine Zindabad’ at a Diwali event in India? Certainly not justice for Palestinians, nor respect for the cultural diversity that these institutions are supposed to uphold.

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