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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.)

Tough Policing

Updated: Mar 17


The Ahmedabad Police, in conjunction with the Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation (AMC), recently undertook a decisive operation against individuals accused of vandalism and terror in the Vastral area. Fourteen individuals, including a minor, were arrested for engaging in violent acts using weapons. More significantly, in a move designed to deter future offenders, authorities razed the illegal properties of seven accused individuals, while publicly parading and punishing the perpetrators. If deterrence was the aim, then the police’s execution was near flawless.


But there is something else in this incident. For years, a segment of India’s commentariat has been quick to paint the Gujarat police as selectively heavy-handed, particularly in cases involving communal tensions. The charge often levelled was that law enforcement is ‘anti-Muslim’ in its response to crime and public disorder. Yet the events in Ahmedabad last week tell a different story - one of firm, unbiased policing that puts public order above political posturing.


The accused, who are all from the majority community, were neither shielded by identity politics nor given leniency based on affiliations. Not a single one spared. This is precisely the kind of even-handed action that should be replicated across the country - one where criminals are treated as criminals, not as political symbols to be defended or targeted based on convenience.


The approach taken by the Ahmedabad Police is a masterclass in law enforcement strategy: swift arrests, visible punitive measures and the use of state resources to dismantle illicit networks. Illegal properties of offenders were not just seized but demolished, reinforcing the notion that the long arm of the law extends beyond mere custodial detentions. In an age when many police forces hesitate to act decisively for fear of backlash - legal, political or otherwise - this is an example worth emulating.


Predictably, there were protests. Family members of the accused attempted to obstruct the demolition drive, a familiar spectacle where lawbreakers seek public sympathy by casting state action as draconian. But the police stood firm. This refusal to buckle under pressure is a key takeaway: a state that enforces the law without hesitation is one that commands respect.


Many police forces in India struggle with both credibility and operational effectiveness. Too often, political interference hampers their ability to act with impartiality. Too often, criminals find protection in identity politics, making the simple act of law enforcement an exercise in public relations management rather than governance. The Ahmedabad incident offers a compelling counterpoint in police action that is firm, immediate and unambiguous in its messaging.


While elements of the operation - the public sit-ups, the compelled apologies, the lathi punishment - may raise eyebrows among human rights activists, they serve a larger purpose: reinforcing the cost of public disorder. In a society where lawbreakers often operate with impunity, visible punishment acts as a crucial deterrent. The question then is not whether such methods are too harsh, but whether they are necessary.


India’s police forces are frequently maligned as corrupt, communal or incompetent. While some of this criticism is well-earned, blanket generalizations erode public trust in the very institutions tasked with maintaining order. When policing is reduced to a narrative of selective victimhood, it creates an environment where genuine criminals can operate with greater confidence, secure in the belief that political and ideological forces will shield them.


The Ahmedabad operation stands as a rebuttal to this trend. Here was a case where police action was neither selective nor politically motivated. It was a demonstration of what a functional police force looks like - one that does not hesitate, does not discriminate and does not fear backlash.


While the main accused is still at large, the message is clear: those who disrupt public peace will be held accountable, regardless of who they are. The rest of India’s police forces would do well to take notes.


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