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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.)

Iran and Iraq: From Battlefield to Backroom

Updated: Oct 21, 2024

Iran and Iraq

In describing the potential dangers of the rivalry between the US and China, American political scientist Graham Allison, in his book ‘The Thucydides Trap,’ uses the title term to describe the inevitable conflict between a rising power and an established one. The term alludes to the destructive conflict in the ancient world that raged for 27 years between Athens and Sparta (431 B.C. - 404 B.C.) which was chronicled by the Athenian historian Thucydides in his classic ‘History of the Peloponnesian War’ – a book considered the first ‘objective’ work of history.

Like Athens and Sparta of yore, Iran and Iraq – two Middle Eastern powers who were bitter foes - seem to have undergone a remarkable transformation in their relationship as exemplified by the recent visit of Iran’s president, Masoud Pezeshkian to Iraq.

Pezeshkian’s discussions with Prime Minister Muhammad Shia’ Al-Sudani revolved around bolstering economic cooperation and deepening political ties — a stark contrast to the adversarial relations that has defined the two nations for much of the past. Talks focused on expanding trade, with ambitions to increase bilateral trade to $20 billion in the coming years. Energy cooperation was also on the agenda, reflecting Iraq’s ongoing need for Iranian electricity supplies amid its own chronic shortages. This partnership is emblematic of Iraq’s broader strategy to diversify its international alliances and reduce dependence on the United States.

The Iran-Iraq War (1980-88) remains one of the longest and bloodiest conflicts (and least documented) of the 20th century, casting a shadow over both nations that lingered well into the 21st century. The war, sparked by territorial disputes and ideological differences left scars so deep that any thought of reconciliation seemed impossible.

Yet, in light of their altered relations today, it appears that Iran and Iraq are navigating a path that defies Allison’s ‘Thucydidean Trap.’

Strategically, both nations are keen to stabilize their borders and counter shared threats, particularly from extremist groups. The rise of the Islamic State in 2014 galvanized a tacit military partnership, as Iranian-backed militias played a crucial role in the fight against the jihadists in Iraq.

Iran’s influence in Iraq has grown significantly since the 2003 U.S.-led invasion that toppled Saddam Hussein. Yet, the path to rapprochement since 1980 has been rocky and chaotic, chequered by violent sectarian conflict and buffeted by the headwinds of the Iraqi civil war that followed the fall of Saddam Hussein.

Describing the pervasive hatred between Ayatollah Khomeini’s Iran and Saddam Hussein’s Iraq, Williamson Murray and Kevin M. Woods, in their authoritative history of the conflict, observe how Iraq made the battlefield even more gruesome by introducing poison gas – not used extensively in a major war since Mussolini’s invasion of Ethiopia in 1935.

Both emerged from the war weakened and wary, their economies shattered and their militaries exhausted. The conflict was a pyrrhic victory for Iraq and a grievous loss for Iran, leaving both nations “more vulnerable than they had been before the first shot was fired,” say Williamson and Woods in their book.

Both Hussein and Khomeini, the war’s chief architects, were gone by the mid-2000s, but the animosity and distrust remained.

The toppling of Hussein’s regime in 2003 dismantled the fragile power structure of a deeply sectarian country, setting off a brutal cycle of insurgency and sectarian violence. Amidst this geopolitical chaos, Iran seized the opportunity to expand its influence in Iraq, sponsoring militant groups.

One of the most notable figures to emerge was Muqtada al-Sadr, a fiery cleric who galvanized Shiite resentment and nationalist sentiment against the U.S. occupation. Sadr’s Mahdi Army, a militia formed in 2003, became a formidable force, clashing with American troops and other rival factions.

As the U.S. struggled to establish order, Iran played a calculated game of fostering Shiite militias and political factions to create a network of influence in a rapidly fragmenting Iraq. Tehran’s backing of groups like the Badr Organization and the Mahdi Army was part of a broader strategy to counter American presence and ensure that post-Saddam Iraq would be an ally rather than a rival. Iran’s Quds Force, led by the now-deceased General Qassem Soleimani, became instrumental in this effort, coordinating with Iraqi militias and providing funding, weapons, and training.

The rise of ISIS in 2014 marked another turning point in the relations between the two countries. As the extremist group seized large swathes of Iraqi territory, including Mosul, Iran quickly mobilized to support the Iraqi government and Shiite militias in the fight against ISIS. This intervention was not merely a defensive manoeuvre; it solidified Iran’s role as a critical security partner, further entrenching its influence in Iraq’s military and political spheres.

Pezeshkian called his visit “a new starting point for cooperation” with Iraq. The shift from outright hostility to strategic partnership, albeit with its complexities and contradictions, illustrates a nuanced escape from the destructive cycles of the past.

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