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George Saunders, in a recent interview, made a distinction that stopped me: kindness is not the same as niceness.

He defines kindness as “your ability to be in a moment without a whole lot of monkey mind going on. Because then you’re more likely to be able to posit what could be helpful in that situation.”

That’s not soft. That’s one of the hardest capabilities a leader can develop — genuine presence.

But in our productivity-obsessed workplaces, niceness has become the default. It’s efficient. It’s the minimum viable interaction. Pleasant tone, brief acknowledgement, no friction, move on. Box ticked.

The problem? Niceness doesn’t build relationships. And here’s what most leaders miss: it doesn’t even maintain them.

There’s an asymmetry at play. The leader thinks: “I was pleasant, handled that fine, relationship steady.” But the other person experiences something different: another interaction where they weren’t really seen, another moment confirming they’re a function, not a person.

What feels like holding steady to one party feels like slow withdrawal to the other.

Those micro-diminishments accumulate. They’re why people say “nothing was ever wrong exactly” when explaining why they left, why they stopped bringing ideas, why they quietly disengaged.

We all see through nice. We know the difference between someone managing the surface and someone actually being there.

Kindness requires slowing down. It asks us to be present enough to sense what this person, in this moment, genuinely needs — which sometimes isn’t the comfortable response at all.

That’s hard when we’re stressed, afraid, short of time. Which means kindness isn’t a personality trait. It’s a capacity. One that organisations either support or systematically undermine.

Leaders who settle for nice think they’re being professional. They’re actually making tiny withdrawals from a relationship account they believe they’re maintaining.

And eventually, the balance hits zero.

We measure everything else at work. Performance metrics, engagement scores, productivity indicators, customer satisfaction. Dashboards for days.

But when it comes to workplace relationships—arguably the foundation of everything else we’re trying to achieve—we tend to rely on vibes. “The team seems good.” “Culture feels strong.” “Everyone’s getting along.”

The irony isn’t lost on me. I’ve spent the year encouraging you to think about the why behind workplace relationships rather than rushing to techniques and quick fixes. And now, for the final issue of the year, I’m about to get practical.

Consider it a holiday gift.

The Space Between

Here’s something worth sitting with: when we talk about relationships, we use spatial language. We’re close to someone. There’s distance with a colleague. We need to bridge a gap with a client. We talk about relationships as if they exist in the space between people—not inside either person.

And maybe that’s exactly right.

A relationship isn’t a property of you or a property of me. It’s the quality of the space we’ve created between us. Is it expansive or cramped? Warm or brittle? Safe enough for honesty, or so fragile that we stick to the script?

Try this: look up from your screen for a moment. Think about an important work relationship—a colleague, a direct report, your manager, a client. Don’t think about them. Think about the space between you. What’s its quality? What does it feel like to be in that space?

Now ask: what would be different if that space were different?

The Space Is Not Fixed

Here’s the shift that matters: we often treat relationship quality as luck of the draw. Chemistry. Personality fit. Either you click or you don’t.

But we’re shaping that space with every interaction. Every meeting, every message, every moment of attention or inattention. The question isn’t whether we’re influencing our relationships—we are, constantly. The question is whether we’re doing it deliberately or by accident.

This reframes the whole measurement problem. You’re not trying to assess a fixed thing. You’re trying to notice the quality of something you’re actively creating.

What’s Actually Worth Watching

Once you’re thinking spatially, the signals become clearer. Not “how is this person doing?” but “what’s happening in this space?”

Is it a space where people ask for help—or struggle quietly to preserve the appearance of competence?

Is it a space where mistakes get shared and solved—or hidden and managed?

Is it a space that can hold disagreement—or one where conflict has been politely suffocated?

Is it a space of genuine curiosity—or ritual exchanges that everyone knows mean nothing?

These are subjective observations, yes. But subjective isn’t the same as imaginary. You already sense this stuff. You’re just not treating it as data.

If the Space Needs Improving

The good news buried in all of this: if we’re shaping the space anyway, we can shape it better.

For managers, this might start with how you open your one-to-ones. Instead of “how are you?” (which invites “fine”), try something with a bit more texture:

“What’s got your attention at the moment?”

“What’s one thing that’s working—and one thing that isn’t?”

“On a scale of 1-10, how’s this week been? What would make it one point higher?”

The specific question matters less than what it signals: that this is a space where honesty is welcome. And that signal gets stronger when you go first—sharing something real before asking for something real.

In remote and hybrid teams, this matters even more. When Teams is your main meeting space, you lose ambient awareness—the corridor sense of how people are actually doing. Check-ins become your only window into the space. Make them count.

A Different Kind of Attention

We probably can’t measure relationships the way we measure quarterly targets. But maybe measurement was never the right frame. Measurement is done to something—extracting data to judge from a distance.

Relationships ask for something different. Not measurement, but attention. Not assessment, but presence. Not “how do I score this?” but “what’s the quality of the space I’m helping to create?”

The signals are there. They’ve always been there. We just need to stop staring at dashboards long enough to notice them.

“Just be yourself.” It’s the well-meaning advice that’s launched a thousand leadership development programmes and probably twice as many LinkedIn posts. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: most leaders who try to “be themselves” at work are actually stuck at a surprisingly unsophisticated stage of authenticity.

The problem isn’t that they’re being inauthentic. It’s that they’ve mistaken self-expression for genuine presence.

The Authenticity We’re Taught

Walk into any leadership workshop and you’ll hear the familiar refrain: authentic leadership means bringing your whole self to work, staying true to your values, having the courage to show vulnerability, sharing your truth. It’s framed as an act of personal courage—revealing who you really are despite the risk.

This version of authenticity is deeply individualistic. It positions you at the centre: your truth, your feelings, your values, your story. And whilst there’s nothing inherently wrong with this, it’s a bit like learning to play tennis by only practising your serve. You’re missing half the game.

The Developmental Shift

What if authenticity isn’t actually about you at all?

Developmental psychology suggests that authenticity evolves through distinct stages. Early in our leadership journey, authenticity is about self-expression—figuring out who we are and having the courage to show it. This is necessary and important. We need to develop a coherent sense of self before we can do anything more sophisticated with it.

But mature authenticity looks entirely different. It’s the capacity to be genuinely present to what’s happening between people, to sense what a relationship or moment actually needs, and to respond from a place of real attunement rather than rehearsed self-presentation.

The shift is from “How can I be true to myself in this situation?” to “What does genuine presence look like here?”

What This Looks Like in Practice

Consider Sarah, a senior leader facing a team in crisis. The conventional authenticity playbook might encourage her to share her own anxiety, to be vulnerable about not having all the answers, to “bring her whole self” to the meeting.

But what if the team doesn’t need Sarah’s whole self right now? What if they need her calm, her confidence, her ability to hold steady whilst they’re falling apart? What if the most authentic thing Sarah can do is not share her anxiety, but instead be fully present to theirs?

This isn’t about being fake. It’s about having developed enough relational sophistication to distinguish between what wants to be expressed and what wants to be witnessed. Sometimes the most authentic leadership is holding back your immediate reaction so you can truly hear someone else’s.

Or think about James, who prides himself on “being the same person in every room”—the same directness, the same humour, the same energy whether he’s with his team, the board, or a nervous new starter. He calls this authenticity. His team might call it inflexibility.

Meanwhile, his colleague Michelle consciously shifts her presence based on context. She’s more playful with some colleagues, more formal with others, more directive in crises and more exploratory in strategy sessions. She’s not performing different personas; she’s responding to what each relationship genuinely needs from her. That’s not multiple personalities—it’s relational maturity.

The Paradox

Here’s where it gets interesting: the leaders who seem most authentic are often the ones who’ve stopped trying to be themselves.

They’re not asking “Am I being true to me?” They’re asking “Am I being genuinely present to what’s happening here?” They’ve developed the capacity to be different with different people whilst remaining entirely coherent. Their authenticity isn’t revealed; it’s enacted in relationship.

This is sophisticated work. It requires you to hold your sense of self lightly enough to be genuinely responsive, whilst holding it firmly enough to not lose yourself entirely. It asks you to develop what we might call “relational fluidity”—the ability to be genuinely different without fragmenting.

The Invitation

If you’re a leader who’s been trying to “find your authentic self” and then have the courage to show it, you might be working on yesterday’s challenge. The question isn’t whether you dare to be yourself. It’s whether you’ve developed the capacity to be genuinely present to others.

That’s a different kind of courage. Not the courage of self-revelation, but the courage of self-transcendence. Not “Here’s who I am, take it or leave it,” but “I’m genuinely here with you. What does this moment need?”

The most authentic thing you can do as a leader might not be bringing your whole self to work. It might be developing the wisdom to know which part of yourself each moment is asking for.

What version of authenticity are you practising? The question isn’t meant to judge—we all start where we start. But it might be worth noticing whether your authenticity is still primarily about you, or whether it’s beginning to be about the space between.

Throughout this four post series, I’ve explored the hidden costs of cutting middle management – from psychological toll to trust erosion.

Today, I want to paint a picture of what’s possible when managers embrace a fundamentally different way of operating.

The transformation isn’t just about managing larger spans of control. It’s about evolving from compliance officer to culture weaver.

? Two Different Directions

The difference is profound and directional.

? Compliance Officers are task-oriented, focused upward in the hierarchy. Their energy goes toward ticking boxes, meeting expectations from above, ensuring processes are followed and reports are submitted. They manage to satisfy their superiors.

? Culture Weavers are environment-oriented, focused outward and downward toward their people. Their energy goes toward creating conditions where those who report to them can thrive and do their best work. They lead to unleash potential.

One direction creates bureaucracy. The other creates possibility.

? Conversations Create Culture

As Carl Weick observed: “You change a culture by changing the conversation.” We become what we talk about.

This insight sits at the heart of the transformation from compliance officer to culture weaver. It’s a complete reorientation of the kinds of conversations managers have, especially with the people reporting to them.

Are your conversations about:

• Ticking boxes and micromanaging to-do lists?
• OR what people need in order to flourish?

The difference isn’t subtle – it’s transformational.

? What People Actually Need

When managers start asking “What do you need to flourish?” instead of “Did you complete your tasks?” something remarkable happens.

Two fundamental human needs emerge that were invisible in compliance-focused conversations:

? Validation – People need to be seen, recognised, and accepted for who they are. Not judged against some idealised template, but genuinely acknowledged as unique individuals with distinct strengths and perspectives.

? Constructive Feedback – Nobody wants criticism, but everybody craves genuine feedback. The ability to help people see what they could do differently to get better results or different outcomes is one of the most valuable gifts a manager can offer.

These aren’t nice-to-haves. They’re the foundation of human engagement and growth.

? The Weaving Process

Culture weaving happens in the micro-moments:

• In the quality of presence you bring to conversations
• In choosing curiosity over judgement
• In asking “How can I help you succeed?” rather than “Why didn’t you finish this?”

It’s about seeing your role as creating the conditions where people can do their best work, rather than ensuring they conform to predetermined processes.

Culture weavers understand that their primary job isn’t task management – it’s environment creation.

?? The Paradox of Control

Here’s the beautiful paradox: by letting go of compliance-focused control, culture weavers actually gain more influence over outcomes.

When you focus on creating conditions for people to thrive, they become more engaged, more creative, more committed to excellence.

The larger spans of control that seemed impossible for compliance officers become manageable for culture weavers. Why? Because you’re not trying to control everything – you’re creating an environment where people control themselves.

? From Constraint to Catalyst

This series started with the observation that cutting middle management creates relationship deficits that erode trust and meaning. But it doesn’t have to end there.

When managers evolve from compliance officers to culture weavers, larger spans become opportunities to build cultures of genuine engagement and performance. The constraint becomes the catalyst for a better way of leading.

The managers who make this transition don’t just survive organisational restructuring – they transform it into something more human, more meaningful, and ultimately more effective.

The conversation you have tomorrow with someone on your team is a choice: compliance check or culture weaving. What will you choose?

How are you shifting from compliance officer to culture weaver in your leadership role?

This concludes our series on the hidden costs of cutting middle management. Thank you for joining this exploration of more human-centred approaches to leadership and organisational design.

#Leadership #CultureWeaver #Management #WorkplaceCulture #HumanCentredLeadership #OrganisationalDevelopment #PeopleFirst

There’s a moment that happens in every traditional office—you’re rushing to a meeting, someone catches your eye in the corridor, and suddenly you’re having the conversation that changes everything. Perhaps it’s learning about a colleague’s hidden expertise, discovering a shared challenge, or simply seeing them laugh at something absurd. These fleeting encounters, so unremarkable we rarely remember them, form the invisible architecture of workplace relationships.

Digital work has fundamentally altered this landscape. Traditional relationship building relies heavily on unplanned moments—the corridor conversation, the shared lift journey, the spontaneous coffee. These “weak tie” interactions, as sociologist Mark Granovetter termed them, actually strengthen workplace bonds more than we realise. Yet digital work strips them away entirely. Everything becomes scheduled and purposeful, losing the organic quality that builds genuine connection.

The result isn’t just loneliness—it’s a fundamental shift in how relationships form and deepen. When every interaction requires a calendar invitation, we unconsciously begin rationing our social investment. We stick to our immediate team, our essential contacts, our scheduled touchpoints. The peripheral relationships that drive innovation, opportunity, and organisational resilience quietly wither.

But here lies both the challenge and the opportunity: if spontaneous connection was the foundation of traditional workplace relationships, what becomes the foundation in a digital world?

The Art of the Asynchronous Relationship

Perhaps our biggest misconception is that connection requires real-time interaction. The digital environment offers something traditional offices never could: the ability to build relationships across time and space through thoughtful, considered exchange.

Consider the power of a voice message that captures not just information but tone, personality, and care. Or collaborative documents where personal commentary reveals thinking patterns and values. These asynchronous touchpoints allow for a different kind of intimacy—one where people can share more authentically because they have time to reflect, where introverts can participate more fully, where working parents can engage outside traditional hours.

The strongest digital relationships often develop through these layered, time-shifted interactions that build understanding incrementally rather than through the binary of meeting or not meeting.

Reframing Transactional Touch Points

Every work interaction contains relationship-building potential if we know how to recognise and activate it. The routine email, the project update, the quick Teams call—each represents a choice between purely transactional efficiency and human connection.

This isn’t about making everything longer or more complex. It’s about recognising that how we handle these everyday moments shapes the quality of our working relationships. The colleague who asks “How’s your week shaping up?” before diving into project details. The manager who notices energy levels during check-ins. The team member who shares a genuine reaction to someone’s idea rather than simply moving to the next agenda item.

These micro-investments in connection don’t require additional time—they require additional intention. And their cumulative impact on relationship quality is profound.

Intentional Informality

Perhaps the most significant shift required is accepting that casual doesn’t happen naturally online—it must be deliberately created. Since serendipity doesn’t emerge organically in digital spaces, we must engineer opportunities for the human moments that build trust and understanding.

This might mean starting meetings by actually asking how people are and leaving space for real answers. It could involve creating dedicated “non-work” digital spaces where teams can share what they’re reading, what they’re struggling with, or what made them laugh that week. Most importantly, it means embracing rather than apologising for the domestic interruptions that give us glimpses into each other’s full humanity.

The death of serendipity in digital work isn’t a problem to solve—it’s a reality to adapt to. The organisations that thrive won’t be those trying to recreate the past, but those bold enough to pioneer new forms of human connection that work within our digital present.

The question isn’t whether we can build meaningful relationships through screens. We already are. The question is whether we’re doing it intentionally enough to create the kind of workplace relationships that sustain us, inspire us, and help us do our best work together.

What moments of unexpected connection have shaped your own career? And what might intentional relationship building look like in your current digital environment?

In my previous posts, I’ve explored the hidden costs of cutting middle management and the psychological toll of wider spans of control.

Today I want to dig into something that’s both the problem and the solution: the relational load that modern leaders carry.

? Relationship Quality as a Matter of Luck

Here’s what I observe time and again: most managers treat relationship quality as something secondary, something left entirely to chance.

“Sometimes you’re lucky and get people you click with. Most times you’re not so lucky and you don’t get on. That’s just life.”

There’s no awareness that they could actually take responsibility for the quality of these relationships. No understanding of how profoundly relationship quality influences the meaningfulness and effectiveness of work itself.

They’re managing as if relationships are fixed, predetermined by personality compatibility rather than something that can be intentionally cultivated and improved.

? The Liberating (and Terrifying) Realisation

What emerges repeatedly in coaching sessions – often in follow-up emails filled with excitement – is this profound AHA moment:

“I am the solution.”

It’s both liberating and overwhelming. Liberating because suddenly they have agency where they felt powerless. Terrifying because now they’re responsible for something they’ve never been taught how to do.

But here’s what’s beautiful: once that realisation hits, they become intensely curious about what they need to do differently. This is where real transformation begins.

? There’s No Universal Playbook

The challenge is that relationship building can’t be reduced to a checklist of “10 things every manager should do.” It’s deeply individual. Each person needs to develop their own authentic way of approaching this.

Extroverts often have an easier time initially – they’re naturally comfortable with interpersonal connection. But they frequently fall into the trap of being superficial, mistaking charm for depth.

Introverts typically struggle at first, but once they understand what’s needed, they develop much more profound relationships. Why? Because they’ve been programmed to think they need to be like extroverts – loud, charismatic, leading from the front.

? Leadership from Behind

But that’s not true. Introverts can absolutely be their introverted selves and build extraordinary relationships. They just need to find ways that make their introversion work for them:

• One-on-one conversations
• Deep listening
• Thoughtful follow-up
• Creating space for others to shine

There’s no need to stand on a soapbox and shout.

Some of the most powerful leadership happens from behind – quietly influencing, deeply connecting, creating conditions where others thrive.

? The Analytical Manager’s Breakthrough

Then there’s perhaps the most common case I encounter: the analytical manager who believes emotions don’t belong in the workplace, that they themselves aren’t subject to emotions, or they simply can’t understand why other people need to express feelings at work.

The breakthrough moment comes when they realise that emotions aren’t unprofessional interference – they’re fundamental data about human motivation, engagement, and performance.

Including their own.

?? The Real Load

The relational load of modern leadership isn’t just about managing more relationships. It’s about taking active ownership of relationship quality and recognising that how you connect with your people directly determines their engagement, growth, and performance.

It’s about shifting from “we just don’t get on” to “how can I make this relationship work better?”

That’s both a heavier load and a lighter one.

Heavier because you’re now responsible for something you used to leave to chance.

Lighter because you finally have agency over one of the most crucial aspects of your effectiveness as a leader.

When managers make this shift, something remarkable happens: they don’t just cope with larger spans of control – they transform them into networks of meaningful connection.

How do you take ownership of relationship quality in your leadership role?

Next week: How trust erodes invisibly – and what repair actually looks like.

#Leadership #Management #Relationships #WorkplaceCulture #PeopleManagement

Last week I wrote about the hidden costs of cutting middle management. Today I want to explore something deeper – the psychological toll this takes on everyone involved.

This crisis has a Janus face. It looks both ways, affecting managers and team members simultaneously, eroding something fundamental to human wellbeing at work: meaning.

? The Meaning Drain

For employees: They derive enormous meaning from their relationship with their supervisor. It’s where they find recognition, growth, support, and belonging. When that relationship becomes distant or transactional due to impossible spans of control, a crucial source of workplace meaning evaporates.

For managers: They derive deep job satisfaction from being genuinely helpful, from developing their people, from being seen as a “good” manager. When they’re spread so thin they can barely remember everyone’s names, let alone support their growth, their own sense of purpose crumbles.

They go from meaningful to meaningless.

What does meaninglessness feel like? That hollow, energy-draining sensation where work becomes a grind rather than a contribution. Where you feel invisible, replaceable, disconnected.

Meaninglessness doesn’t just affect productivity – it literally sucks the life force from people. And if left unchecked, it’s a straight path to burnout or depression.

? The Early Warning Signs We Miss

Here’s what breaks my heart: the early indicators are subtle, and by the time leaders notice someone is “struggling,” the psychological damage is often already done.

Watch for:

• The shift in energy – Playfulness erodes first. That lightness people bring to their work simply vanishes, replaced by a heavy, laboured quality. You can feel it in the room.
• Body language changes – Shoulders that carry invisible weight. Eyes that have lost their spark. The subtle withdrawal that says “I’m here but I’m not really here.”
• Drama triangles – People unconsciously creating victim-persecutor-rescuer dynamics because they’re desperately trying to generate some sense of agency or connection, even if it’s dysfunctional.
• Pervasive powerlessness – A sense that settles over teams like fog.

These aren’t performance issues. They’re human beings responding to an environment where their fundamental psychological needs for connection and meaning aren’t being met.

? The Cost of Catching It Late

The tragedy is that leaders often pride themselves on spotting these problems, but what they’re actually seeing is the end stage of a long erosion process.

They notice the disengagement, the decreased output, the attitude problems – but these are symptoms of months of slowly declining psychological safety and meaning.

By then, rebuilding trust and re-establishing meaning becomes exponentially harder. People don’t bounce back from psychological disconnection as easily as we’d like to believe.

?? The Path Forward

Here’s the thing: larger spans of control aren’t inherently wrong. I understand the business rationale – the economics make sense, and in many cases, it’s necessary.

But these structures can only work if managers fundamentally shift how they operate.

The challenge is that most managers have been brought up to focus on:

• Task execution
• Oversight
• Operational delivery

Now they need to transition to a completely different way of working – one centred on:

• Relationship building
• Empowerment
• Creating conditions for others to thrive

This isn’t a skill they can develop overnight or figure out alone. Someone needs to actively help them make this transition.

Because when managers learn to work relationally rather than operationally, larger spans don’t just become manageable – they become transformational.

? The Bottom Line

If we’re going to make these new organisational structures work, we need to become exquisitely attuned to these early psychological warning signs and actively support managers in becoming the relationship builders their expanded teams desperately need.

What early warning signs have you noticed when teams start to lose psychological connection?

Next week: How trust erodes invisibly – and what repair actually looks like.

#Leadership #PsychologicalSafety #Management #WorkplaceMeaning #MentalHealthAtWork #SpanOfControl #HumanCentredLeadership

I keep reading about companies slashing middle management roles to cut costs and accommodate AI implementation. Fewer managers, larger spans of control, improved efficiency – it sounds logical on paper.

But there’s a relationship crisis hiding in these spreadsheets.

? When Trust Starts to Erode

When managers suddenly find themselves responsible for 15-20 people instead of 6-8, something critical gets lost.

Using David Maister’s trust equation as a lens, two elements immediately suffer:

• Intimacy drops – there’s simply less time for meaningful connection
• Perceived self-interest rises – managers appear more focused on keeping their heads above water than supporting their teams

Trust doesn’t collapse overnight – it seeps away slowly, often unnoticed until significant damage is done.

? The Engagement Cascade

The first casualty? Engagement.

We know from decades of research that your relationship with your immediate manager is the single biggest predictor of workplace engagement. When that relationship weakens, everything else follows:

• Decision-making slows
• Innovation stagnates
• High performance gradually slides into mediocrity

Meanwhile, the remaining managers find themselves drowning. They’re expected to do more with less, but nobody’s fundamentally changed what “management” means in this new reality.

? What Needs to Shift

Here’s what I believe needs to happen:

? First, micromanagement becomes impossible – and that’s actually brilliant.

With larger teams, managers have no choice but to embrace real empowerment. Not the lip-service version where we say “you’re empowered” but still expect approval for every decision. True empowerment where people are genuinely trusted to own their work.

? Second, remaining managers must dramatically reduce their task work.

Everything that can be delegated must be delegated. Their primary job becomes relationship building – creating the conditions where trust can flourish even with limited time.

? The Transformation

This isn’t about working harder; it’s about working fundamentally differently.

The manager’s role transforms:

• From task coordinator ? to culture creator
• From decision maker ? to capacity builder

? The Remarkable Discovery

The companies that recognise this will discover something remarkable: they don’t just maintain performance despite fewer managers – they often exceed it.

Because when you’re forced to trust people more deeply, to empower them more completely, to focus purely on the human elements that drive performance, magic tends to happen.

The question isn’t whether we can afford to maintain these relationships with fewer managers. It’s whether we can afford not to.

What shifts have you observed in management roles as organisational structures evolve?

#Leadership #MiddleManagement #Trust #Engagement #OrganisationalChange #ManagementEvolution #WorkplaceRelationships