top of page

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 Coercion

Jamia Millia Islamia, one of Delhi’s most storied universities, finds itself at the heart of yet another firestorm. Accusations by the NGO ‘Call For Justice’ allege that a cabal within the university has systematically targeted Hindu students, faculty and staff, coercing them to convert to Islam under threats that range from academic sabotage to sexual violence. The charges are severe, disturbing, and, if true, point to an environment steeped in discrimination and intimidation.


The investigation, spearheaded by a committee including a former Delhi HC judge and a former Delhi Police Commissioner among others, uncovered testimonies that paint a bleak picture. Hindu students reported being forced to recite the Kalma (the Islamic oath of allegiance) and faced the threat of academic penalties for refusal. More horrifying still are claims of acid attack threats and the use of sexual harassment as a weapon to break resistance. The report also suggests that preferential admissions were leveraged to manipulate vulnerable groups, particularly SC/ST Hindu students, as part of a broader scheme of religious coercion.


The allegations reach beyond students; Hindu and Christian faculty and non-teaching staff claim they have been denied promotions and overworked as punitive measures for their faith. According to a member of the fact-finding team, over 50 individuals have come forward, with 27 statements already recorded. Yet, despite this outcry, Jamia’s administration remains conspicuously silent, failing to assuage growing fears or pledge transparency. The spectre of ‘love jihad’ emerges in the findings, suggesting that romantic relationships have been exploited as a conduit for conversion. Coupled with accusations of social ostracism and targeted harassment, these revelations demand more than perfunctory probes.


The silence of so-called ‘progressive’ media in this context is striking. When allegations arise involving discrimination against Hindus, their response is notably muted. This selective outrage raises questions about the objectivity of their advocacy and the underlying biases that inform their coverage. Such double standards erode public trust in the media and obscure the pursuit of balanced truth.


No stranger to controversy, Jamia Millia Islamia was a significant site during the anti-Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) protests in 2019, which escalated into clashes between students and law enforcement. Instead of actually fostering any intellectual debate, the varsity, like its peer, the Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU), has been accused of fostering radical elements and fostering discord. More recently, Diwali celebrations in Jamia were disrupted and marked by chants of ‘Palestine Zindabad.’


Universities should be arenas of open discourse and safe spaces for all ideologies, not grounds for sectarian power plays. The stakes are high. For India’s democracy to thrive, its institutions, especially its universities, must embody inclusivity and fairness. The nation’s future demands it.

Comments

bottom of page