Bullying Everyone Into Caring About You

That's not very kind is it?

I want you to start noticing something at work. There are people - completely brainwashed by corporate fluff who can’t come up with a single original thought - who throw around words like kindness, empathy, engagement, resilience, and wellbeing like they’re handing out candy. These buzzwords have become the new workplace currency, and people keep falling for them.

But here’s the kicker: ask them, “Can you define that for me so I know what it actually means or what I’m supposed to do?” and you’ll get a vague, rambling answer that sounds deep but says nothing. Just corporate bla bla.

This endless stream of empty feel-good talk is usually coming from the self-declared “caring” types who seem to be on a mission to save the world—one motivational quote at a time. They’ll sing the tune of “Be kind” and “Think about what others are going through” loud and clear, but press them for substance, and they can’t even explain what they’re preaching.

The other day, I asked someone who said, 'Leaders must be kind,' to define it for me and explain what it actually means. What does kind look like when:

- the employee constantly underperforms?

- the employee always has some personal problems that impact others at work?

- the employee had 32 days of sick leave in the past 6 months which severely impacted others?

Silence. Crickets. The usual script—“Just listen, be understanding, think about what they’re going through.” Sure, great. But for how long before the work still has to get done and the rest of the team starts drowning?

While I’m busy listening and being considerate of one person’s situation, what’s happening to the rest of the team? Am I being kind to them by letting John underperform and drag everyone down just because he’s going through a divorce?

When I show kindness to one person, am I being unkind to the others? Be kind—sure, but to whom? The individual or the collective?

And how much kindness is enough? What’s too much? Too little? Is there some secret kindness scale I missed? Who decided what the right amount is? And if no one did, then how are we supposed to know? Maybe kindness looks different to everyone. So, which version is the “right” one? And why?

What does kindness look like in tough situations? Does kindness mean avoiding discomfort—or does it mean telling the truth, even when it’s hard?

Organisations are wading through murky waters with all this talk of kindness and other feel-good buzzwords they toss around without a second thought. Half the time, they can’t even define what these words mean. The result? Leaders are left confused and paralyzed—unsure whether to lead or just sit quietly and nod. The moment they show any authority or don’t tear up over Brenda’s dying cat, they’re instantly labelled toxic, lacking empathy, or emotionally disconnected.

But here’s the truth: most people are too busy dealing with their own struggles to genuinely care about everyone else’s. So, the self-proclaimed saviours—the performative compassion crowd trying to rescue us from “toxic” workplaces and mental health doom—can take a break. Not every workplace problem needs a wellness crusade.

Kindness, by definition, means being generous, helpful, and considerate of others’ feelings. And you know what? Most people are kind. They help when someone’s in need—they show up. But the real question is: for how long, and how much help is considered appropriate?

And more importantly—why are we expecting this from the workplace?

Shouldn’t we have families, friends, or a personal support system to help us navigate life’s challenges? Why is it suddenly our boss’s or colleagues’ responsibility to carry the emotional weight of our divorce or personal crisis? Work is not therapy. It’s a place where people come together to deliver outcomes—not to process each other’s life stories and traumas.

When did being strong and composed—quietly carrying on without burdening others—suddenly become a weakness?

I’m proud of my ability to stay steady. No matter what’s happened in my life, I’ve made sure it never spilled over and impacted those around me. Why? Because I think about others. I don’t assume my problems are more important than theirs. I don’t make my issues someone else’s responsibility unless I absolutely have to. To me that is kindness; Don’t be a burden on others.

And yet somehow, this quality—self-restraint, emotional discipline—has been flipped into something negative. Today, unless you’re constantly sharing, oversharing, and turning every life hiccup into a group discussion, you’re seen as cold, disconnected, or hiding something. And sure you will be told that you have an unprocessed trauma.

Why? When did personal strength become a flaw?

People need to take responsibility for themselves instead of expecting everyone around them to constantly care, accommodate, and tiptoe around their feelings. What kind of narcissistic mindset is that? People simply don’t have the emotional or mental capacity to care deeply about everything and everyone around them. Some people will never care about you—and let’s be honest, there are people you’ll never care about either. And that’s okay.

Imagine pushing others into a corner where they have to pretend to care about your life just to avoid being labelled cold or insensitive. How sad is that? That kind of forced empathy isn’t connection—it’s theatrics. Is this what we really want or genuine care to be shown towards us?

What matters is finding your few—the people who genuinely care about you. If we all do that, everyone ends up supported. But this idea that we can (or should) force everyone to constantly monitor how they speak, act, or feel just in case Lucas might get offended? That’s not empathy. That’s emotional micromanagement.

We can’t expect people to be endlessly consumed by what others are going through. It’s exhausting. And unrealistic.

The funny thing is, companies and employees keep shouting about psychological safety (yet another buzzword), while also pushing the message: “Don’t say anything that might offend someone.”

So which is it? Speak up, or stay silent? What exactly are we supposed to do?

Nobody can navigate this contradiction without tripping over it. And the result? People say nothing, do nothing, and organisations waste a fortune on training programs designed to fix problems created by the very same “woke” narratives they keep promoting.

Here’s my take: be fair to everyone, don’t intentionally hurt anyone, and help when you can. It’s really not that hard to be a decent person—and most people already are.

Yes, people go through tough times. We get it. And of course, we make accommodations when needed. But how long those accommodations last should depend on the impact they have on the rest of the team and the organisation.

Because leaders don’t lead for just one person—they lead for everyone.

This is exactly why leadership is hard. Sometimes, you have to make the tough call—like letting go of someone whose current life circumstances simply don’t align with what the team needs. And believe it or not, the kindest thing you can do is to make that decision—for the greater good.

Of course, the self-absorbed narcissists will disagree. They’d rather sacrifice the team just to protect one individual, no matter the cost. But when a leader allows that—or worse, is pressured into it—they’re not being kind. And they’re certainly not leading.

PS: Nothing highlights the level of delusion around this topic—“Nobody cares about you”—more than those posts saying, “If you die, they’ll empty your desk and post the job ad the same day.” Well, what did you expect? The company to shut down a whole department? Thousands of customers left hanging? Your team drowning under extra work because you’re gone? That's not very kind is it?

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Don't Work Hard for Others

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