Soft corporate bullying
Everyone wants to believe their company is a family. But "family" is a deeply outdated metaphor once you get under the psychology of it all.
Oh, you're a family? So are the Sopranos, the Roys and the Berzattos. Being a family does not, by default, mean "a good place to be in".
In fact, plenty of families are dysfunctional. And I'd suspect the more someone justifies "the family", the more dysfunction there is involved.
So let's talk about where that workplace family metaphor falls short.
Family drama
Over the past year, many dear friends of mine, and former bosses, probably felt they were "part of a family" until they... weren't anymore.
In some cases, I've seen their very sense of a career path, not to mention self-esteem, get eroded by gaslighting at the highest (lowest?) level.
And while the words "we're a family" might not have been explicitly said, the sentiment was there. Work hard, play hard. We're in this together. Which means you're either in or you're out. There is no in-between.
But what a company calls itself has nothing to do with how they work. Or, more crucially, how they don't. "Family" in business is Latin for "trouble".
Why? Because family narratives can encourage soft corporate bullying. They create the illusion of warmth, while reinforcing in-group behaviours.
On paper, in-group behaviours are how you codify a company's culture. When taken too far, they can create exclusionary practices. And they do.
The scale of the problem is quite striking. According to a range of sources like Setyan Law, Electro IQ, American Psychiatric Association and ILO:
75% of employees have witnessed workplace bullying behaviour
Workplace bullying has gone up by 43% in the US since 2022
62% of bullying cases lead to the victim resigning
In 70% of cases, the bully stays put while the victim leaves
45% of bullying victims report stress-related health issues
Workplace bullying costs about $14,000 per employee
Organisations lose $2.3 billion per year due to bullying
Companies that "are like a family" tend to say things like "you either survive the first year or you're out". It's career-level Hunger Games.
And if you're out, the problem is you. You weren't family material. Not a 'culture fit'. You're the one who refused the blood bond you signed up for.
But this supposed 'blood bond' only works until it stops working for the person who brought you into the fold. It's an asymmetrical power play.
And where there is power, there is love of power. So let's talk about that.
Love hurts
The family narrative presumes that love is unconditional. But professional life is neither about love, nor about unconditionality. Quite the opposite.
It's a business exchange whose success depends on a series of specific conditions that work both ways and are literally formalised in a contract.
If the family metaphor falls apart once you have an ounce of self-esteem, what replaces it? The revolutionary concept of... a team. If you're feeling fancy, a gang. A crew. Whatever you wanna call it. It follows simple rules.
It's defined by results not blood bonds. Shared goals mean people can focus. Inherited bonds can become excuses to not have to earn your place.
It values relationships to the extent that they're a gateway to results. You get along so you can get shit done. Never lose sight of that endgame.
It's conditional by default, because it's an exchange. And if the exchange isn't balanced, it's natural (and optimal) that a re-negotiation takes place.
Whatever bonds exist are a function of people not titles or departments. This is why when respected people leave, morale inevitably takes a hit.
Love hurts as much as it's worth. But before you think you love your work, make sure you're aware to what extent work can love you back.
Rented not bought
The other end of this spectrum is when it's all exchange but no value. Companies who don't even pretend to care about you, because you're actually "lucky to be there". We go from being a family to a factory.
But only the Sith deal in absolutes. I'm not here to tell you to not give a shit about your workplace. But be intentional about the shits you give.
For companies to get your respect, they need to earn it. Probation periods work both ways. When a work relationship breaks, the prevailing narrative is that you weren't 'the right cultural fit'. You weren't 'company material'.
Consider flipping that. Many companies are not the right cultural fit for you. They're not 'you material'. A small shift, but a potent act of rebellion.
I'm also not saying you should be against corporate loyalty. But before being loyal to others, practise loyalty with the business of your own mind. It's literally your money maker. The equity on top of which all compounds.
If there's one big lesson I learned from experiencing redundancy followed by losing my mum, it's this: there's honesty knowing that everything ends.
We've placed too much weight on the meaning we attach to work, but also the share of that meaning that a single company or client can occupy.
The answer isn't to reject this system, but rather to find ways to diversify within it. A portfolio career can be an attractive option. There are others.
Ultimately, for every time someone wants to guilt trip you for taking charge of your own destiny, "after all they've done for you", I say this. Companies don't own you. They never did. At best, they get to rent you.
And smart leaders know this, accept it, and work with it. Knowing they have you for the next 2 years, they get the best out of you in that time. And then they measure themselves against the scale of the leap you'll take next.
Safety net as a service
So what do you do when your workplace doesn't offer the safety net you hoped for? You build your own. That's why I've created the Salmon Crew.
It's a private membership where smart minds come together to find clarity. Think of it as a 'safety net as a service', made for strategists by a strategist.
You'll access a private group, my strategy swipe file, member workshops, and the camaraderie you were promised at work, but never quite got.
Ps. This is the start of a conversation on this topic, it's not the end. Thanks to the Salmon Crew members who generously shared their feedback on a first draft of this piece, and gave me plenty more to write about next. If you have thoughts or experiences, I'd love to hear from you. 100% anonymous.