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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.)

China’s ‘Grey-Zone’ Tactics in Bhutan: An Indian and International Challenge

Updated: Oct 30, 2024

Grey-Zone

According to a recent report published by Turquoise Roof, in 2016, China began constructing its first cross-border village within Bhutan’s customary borders and since then has built 22 villages across approximately 825 square kilometres. This constitutes around 2% of Bhutan’s total land area, in two main regions—eight in western Bhutan and 14 in the northeast.


These Chinese settlements comprise 752 residential blocks, housing nearly 7,000 people, including civilians, border police, military personnel, and construction workers. The Chinese authorities have relocated these individuals to previously unpopulated and remote areas.


China’s strategic motives behind building these villages are closely tied to its ongoing border negotiations with Bhutan, particularly its interest in the Doklam plateau. This 89-square-kilometer plateau, located in western Bhutan, holds significant military importance for China due to its proximity to India’s Siliguri Corridor—a narrow strip of land that connects mainland India to its northeastern states. Controlling Doklam would provide China with a tactical advantage in its long-standing rivalry with India.


Historically, China proposed a territorial “package deal” to Bhutan in 1990 to drop its claims over Bhutan’s northeastern territories in exchange for the Doklam plateau and surrounding regions in the west. Bhutan has been hesitant to accept the deal, primarily due to India’s security concerns and influence. Under the Indo-Bhutan Treaty, Bhutan is obliged to consider India’s strategic interests in its foreign and security policy decisions.


The report details a six-stage strategy employed by China that began in the early 1990s when Tibetan herders were sent into contested areas. Over time, China incrementally strengthened its presence by building shelters, sending military patrols, and constructing outposts. Eventually, road networks were developed, connecting these outposts to towns in Tibet. The final stage, starting in 2016, saw the construction of villages in these areas.


By relocating civilians and establishing administrative and military infrastructure, China seeks to solidify its presence in these areas. Once these villages are fully established, it becomes increasingly difficult for Bhutan to reclaim its sovereignty over the contested regions.


The report suggests that China’s strategy could lead to the permanent annexation of areas where these villages have been constructed, despite earlier promises to return some territories to Bhutan.


The residents of these villages, most of whom are Tibetan, face harsh climatic conditions, with many areas blocked by snow for several months each year. Despite these challenges, China provides financial incentives to relocatees, offering subsidies of 20,000 yuan (approximately $2,836) per person per year—comparable to the average per capita income of rural Tibetans.


For Bhutan, the loss of these territories poses significant cultural and religious implications, especially in areas like the Pagsamlung Valley, which holds religious importance for the Bhutanese people. Additionally, it disrupts local livelihoods and challenges Bhutan’s historical claims over these lands.


The lack of global scrutiny may have emboldened China to accelerate its village construction efforts. Since early 2023, the pace of construction has increased, with seven new villages being built in northeastern Bhutan. The report raises concerns that this pattern could set a dangerous precedent, where smaller nations struggle to resist territorial encroachment by larger powers.


While some of the villages in western Bhutan hold strategic military significance, providing oversight of key border passes, others in the northeast appear to have little military or security value. According to the report, the construction of these northeastern villages may serve as a bargaining tool aimed at pressuring Bhutan into ceding control of the more strategically important Doklam region.


These settlements, often referred to as “well-off border villages,” in Chinese media, are designed to establish facts on the ground that reinforce China’s claims of sovereignty. Much like China’s artificial islands in the South China Sea, these villages are part of a broader strategy to expand territorial control through non-military means, often referred to as “grey-zone” tactics.


While each village is equipped with administrative buildings, schools, health services, and connectivity infrastructure, they are not self-sustaining since the rugged terrain limits opportunities for traditional farming and animal husbandry. China has implemented various economic schemes to generate income for residents, including handicraft workshops and greenhouse farming. However, given the isolated nature of these villages, long-term economic viability remains a challenge.


To promote national identity and loyalty, the Chinese government encourages residents to participate in patriotic activities, such as flag-raising ceremonies and “border patrols,” intended to symbolise their role in defending China’s sovereignty.


The international community may face a growing challenge in addressing these subtle but impactful forms of territorial expansion. The situation in Bhutan is a stark reminder of the delicate balance of power in the Himalayas and the potential consequences of inaction on the global stage.


(The author is a foreign affairs expert. Views personal.)

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