Can Organizations Be Too Psychologically Safe?

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It depends on how you define psychological safety. If you define it as making things comfortable or easy or secure for people, then yes, you can have too much psychological safety.

I define psychological safety as simply a place where people can be honest.

Honesty means that you can speak accurately about work progress, challenges, and mistakes without hiding or distorting the facts. It means that you can be upfront about your emotions without blame or intimidation. Honesty means owning mistakes, admitting when something goes wrong and taking responsibility for your part. It means being transparent, sharing relevant information rather than withholding it to gain advantage. It means being open to new ideas and suggestions, and challenging outdated processes. Honesty is integrity in action: honoring your agreements, avoiding shortcuts that compromise ethics, and not lying. It means giving credit where credit is due and not stealing the credit for other’s work – or stealing anything from another person for that matter. Honesty often means giving difficult feedback or disagreeing in a way that builds rather than tears down.

You can’t have too much of any of this. Let’s keep working to build psychologically safe places to live and work.

FROM TRANSITIONS TO TRANSFORMATIONS:  Exaggerating The Essential

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My good friend Allan is currently in the hospital recovering from surgery that removed his voice box in response to a rare kind of throat cancer. He’s relying on tubes inserted into his abdomen for fluids and food. As a psychiatrist whose career relied on speaking and sharing his wisdom, his life will never be the same. (A white board that he uses for communicating displays the message in the image above.)

It is expected that he will soon find a way to communicate verbally through the amazing advances in technology. When I asked how he was without a voice, Allan wrote, “I am not frustrated with not speaking. I’ve attended fourteen silent retreats so lots of practice. They were voluntary, but I am surrendering with intention and permission to slowing down my typing and keeping things short while I’m here.” He then referred to a Vincent Van Gough quote, “I have learned to exaggerate the essential and leave the ordinary deliberately vague.”

In “The Starry Night,” the swirling sky and glowing stars were exaggerated, while the village below is rendered simple and vague, emphasizing the dreamlike, emotive qualities Van Gogh found essential. Similarly, Allan is surrounded by his faith, his perspective and approach to life, and the love of the people who care so deeply about him. He understands the vital importance of exaggerating these essentials.

Life’s interruptions – whether a health crisis, a job loss, the death of a loved one, becoming a parent, a move, a divorce – are like sudden storms that reroute even the most carefully charted journeys, forcing us out of familiar harbors into unknown seas. Navigating these transitions demands more than resilience; it calls for a willingness to let go of old certainties, embrace vulnerability, and discover new depths within ourselves. In those moments when life fractures the expected and invites us into uncertainty, we find the raw material for transformation and the unfolding of our true story.

According to Allan, “the idea of moving with transitions is to transform us into new visions of what we are now, have been, and continue to become. We then shift from transformation to transcendence and live in a new way with a vision of ourselves we never had before. Transaction to transformation to transcendence is predicated on recognizing the waves of transition that carry us from one to the other.”

Here are three essentials that Allan has reminded me to exaggerate, to turn a transition into a transformation.

  1. Acceptance. Suffering doesn’t come from life. It comes from resisting life. If you’re going to pick a fight with reality, you’re going to lose every time. Welcome the hard stuff and befriend all that it brings. In the pile of manure you will one day find a pony – if you keep digging. By meeting pain and fear with compassion and curiosity, we allow ourselves to be reshaped by the experience and discover new strengths and deeper self-understanding.
  2. Centering. To be transformed during change, it is essential to rely on something in our life that isn’t changing – a stable core from which to draw strength, clarity, and resilience. This inner sanctuary serves as a grounding point amid external turbulence and brings us into the present moment, enabling us to navigate uncertainty without losing our sense of self. By cultivating practices of reflection, self-acceptance, and emotional awareness, we create a personal anchor that supports us through the upheaval of change. Whether it’s daily prayer, meditation, or finding a sanctuary in nature, adhering to a daily practice for centering steadies us during the disorienting chaos of transition and fosters the emergence of new perspectives and renewed purpose.
  3. Community. Transitions are a lonely journey, but they can’t be done alone. Finding confidants, guides, partners, or allies to walk beside us are necessary to get us through to the other side. In a world marked by fragmentation and rapid change, it is community that weaves together what has been pulling us apart, anchoring transformation in the fabric of relationships.

Ultimately, life transitions teach us about ourselves: our capacity for adaptation, our core values, and our deepest yearnings. If we allow the pain of difficult experiences to break us open, a stronger, wiser, kinder self can emerge. The journey through change can reveal truths that were hidden when life felt certain and predictable. Transitions can illuminate new paths toward authenticity, purpose, and belonging. With patience, presence, self-compassion, and support, the uncertainty of transition is also the birth of new possibilities.

On a personal note, I, too, have had to practice exaggerating these essentials as I write my memoir this year. I’m processing the insights and healing impact that this endeavor has had on me thus far. It has been a catalyst for a significant transition as I move into the next chapter of my life. I look forward to sharing the ongoing journey with you over the coming months.

We talk a lot about safety

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We talk a lot about safety: product safety, traffic safety, bicycle safety, workplace safety, nuclear safety, etc. and I teach leaders how to create workplaces that are psychologically safe.

This focus on safety in our chronically anxious society could lead us to believe that safety is the most important value in life.

Safety is certainly important, but, according to Edwin Friedman in, A Failure of Nerve: Leadership In The Age Of The Quick Fix, “if a society is to evolve, or if leaders are to arise, then safety can never be allowed to become more important than adventure… We are on our way to becoming a nation of ‘skimmers,’ living off the risks of previous generations and constantly taking from the top without adding significantly to its essence. Everything we enjoy as part of our advanced civilization, including the discovery, exploration, and development of our country, came about because previous generations made adventure more important than safety… Prioritizing safety over adventure creates anxious risk avoiders, more concerned with good feelings than with progress.”

What is your Noah Project?

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Noah’s project—the building of an ark—was a monumental undertaking with an enduring legacy. Despite skepticism and ridicule, Noah’s project symbolized visionary leadership and the power of perseverance for generations. His story continues to inspire people, a lasting example of how a single project, rooted in faith and determination, can have an impact that endures long after the original work.

A Noah Project is an endeavor that serves a noble cause and has enduring value beyond one’s life.

What is your Noah Project?
Is it building a company or a non-profit that will live beyond you? Is it being committed to making a difference to the team you serve? Is it recording music you produced? Is it starting a podcast or a blog post? Is it cleaning up your neighborhood? Is it a project that will help slow climate change? I have a friend whose Noah Project is to spend enough time with her grandchildren that “my finger print will be embedded in their hearts forever.”

My Noah Project this year is to write my memoir with my daughter. Hayley keeps encouraging me by saying I have a very fascinating life and a great story to tell. I’m about 1/2 done. It’s been a great learning and rewarding experience so far.

hashtag#impact hashtag#leadership hashtag#legacy hashtag#vision

Strong Fences, Open Gates: Mastering the Balance Between Distraction and Connection

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Interruptions—whether from email, notifications, or colleagues—can have a negative impact on our focus and productivity. Interruptions are not just minor annoyances, they are “toxic” to concentration and the quality of work produced. There is much scientific studies that show that it can take up to 30 minutes to regain focus after being interrupted, and that the “attention residue” from switching tasks leads to poorer performance on subsequent tasks. In short, interruptions are a major barrier to productivity and cognitive restoration. I advocate for structured work routines and clear boundaries to protect periods of productive focus and rest.

And… the right kind of interruptions are what make life truly meaningful and rich. After all, for what purpose are we being productive? A call from my daughter in the middle of a busy day to face time with my young granddaughter, Juno. A voice mail from a friend who needs to talk right after she put her dog down. An invitation from my wife to go for a walk…
The key in life is to put a strong fence to keep the wrong kind of interruptions at bay, and open the gate to the interruptions that matter.

From Shadows To Sunrise: How Feeling Irrelevant Signals Imminent Change

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Sometimes, the most meaningful insights occur when we admit our deepest uncertainties.

This past week, I talked with a friend, Gord Sarkissian, about some of my feelings of irrelevance at this stage in life and career. It wasn’t easy to voice my self-doubts as I emerge into this next chapter of my life.

Gord listened without judgment, reminding me that these questions are part of being human. By sharing my vulnerability and in reflection, I realized that self-doubt and uncertainty have always, for me, preceded a period of important change.

Transformation is on the horizon. Relevance isn’t a fixed point, but something we redefine as our lives unfold. Sharing irrelevance in a supportive community makes it relevant.