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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.)

Ceaseless Terror

Ceaseless Terror

The recent attack in Ganderbal, Jammu & Kashmir, where a doctor and six construction workers were killed, is a grim reminder of the region’s continuing struggle with terrorism. The assailants targeted a construction camp housing labourers working on a tunnel for the strategic Srinagar-Leh national highway, underscoring the vulnerability of civilians in conflict zones. This incident, the deadliest since the bus attack in Reasi in June which killed nine pilgrims, once again casts a shadow over the fragile stability in Kashmir, particularly in the wake of its new administrative setup following the abrogation of Article 370.


But while political leaders, from Chief Minister Omar Abdullah to Union Home Minister Amit Shah to opposition figures like Mehbooba Mufti, rush to condemn the act, their statements highlight a persistent challenge: despite numerous security efforts, militants continue to strike soft civilian targets with chilling precision.


The attack came at a time when the government had hoped that the new administrative order in Kashmir, coupled with heavy investments in infrastructure projects like the Srinagar-Leh tunnel, would mark the beginning of a new chapter for the region. Instead, the death of the workers, many of whom had come from other states in search of better livelihoods, reflects a disturbing trend. Civilians —particularly non-locals — have increasingly become pawns in the militant groups’ strategy to create fear and disrupt efforts to normalise life in the region. This year alone has seen four major attacks specifically targeting migrant workers, making it clear that these groups intend to stir communal divisions and deter economic development.


The motives behind such attacks are manifold. First, there is a clear frustration on the part of the militants. The security forces, despite being stretched across the dense forests of Ganderbal and other difficult terrains, have made significant inroads, reducing the capacity of these groups to strike at hardened military targets. Attacking unarmed civilians, then, becomes their grim fallback option. Targeting construction workers also strikes at the heart of Kashmir’s development agenda, disrupting projects that promise to enhance connectivity, spur economic growth and draw Kashmir closer to the rest of India.


With the political environment still fragile, each such attack threatens to set back efforts to bring stability to the region. In the end, what is most tragic is the human cost. A doctor and six non-local workers who came to earn a living lost their lives in a conflict not of their making.


The perpetrators of such attacks may aim to destabilise the region, but their actions only strengthen the resolve of those who seek peace and progress. The challenge for the newly formed government now is to convert that resolve into action, ensuring that such attacks do not deter the march toward a more peaceful and prosperous Jammu & Kashmir. The government also needs to send out a strong message that innocent lives cannot be continued to be used as ‘collateral damage’ in a battle for the soul of Kashmir.

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