There are bosses you can say “I don’t understand” or “I think you’re wrong” to without any repercussions. And there are others with whom you weigh every word before speaking. The difference between the two scenarios is not a matter of luck or character: it is what experts call psychological safety.

Psychological safety is the perception that you can express yourself, ask questions, disagree, or admit a mistake without fear of retaliation. It seems basic. And yet, it is scarce.

It’s not whether your boss is a good or bad person. It’s whether, when you talk to them, your voice has space.

When psychological safety is lacking, it’s not just that people stay silent. It’s that people get tired. Constant silence, holding back opinions, not asking questions for fear of seeming incompetent, not warning when something isn’t working because, after all, it’s useless... all this has a cost. And the cost ends up having a name: chronic stress, disengagement, and in many cases, burnout.

It’s no coincidence that the organizations with the highest cases of burnout are often the very same where effective communication is striking by its absence. Where leadership does not build trust, people don’t communicate, and when people don’t communicate, problems pile up until they explode, in the form of sick leaves, conflicts, or silent exits.

Research in organizational psychology, especially the work of Professor Amy Edmondson from Harvard, has been documenting one clear thing for years: the best-performing teams are not those that never make mistakes. They are the ones who can talk about their errors without hiding them.

The question is not whether your boss appreciates you. It’s whether, when you dissent, you have permission to speak.

Leadership that creates healthy environments is not spectacular leadership. It’s the kind that creates the conditions for everyone to do their job without wasting energy protecting themselves.

It seems unheroic. But it’s what makes the difference between a team that thrives and one that burns out.

So the question isn’t whether your boss is a good professional. The question is: do you feel safe when you talk to them?

And, while you’re at it: do you make the people around you feel safe?

When we attend these gatherings, we often perceive that the conversation has invisible limits and that the real decision was made before it even began.

—What do you think of the proposal? The question sounds sincere. Someone opens the debate, nuances appear, possible alternatives are discussed... The meeting progresses, and it still seems that everything is open. We can decide.

Of course, sometimes, as the meeting continues, we begin to sense that something doesn’t quite fit.

There are people who speak as if the decision still needs to be made. But others listen with a very particular calm. As if all the fish had already been sold.

And the truth is, the end of the meeting was already written before it started. The decision was made a long time ago. The meeting is a formality.

In many organizations, this happens more often than it seems. The meeting is called as a debate, but what really happens is something else: explaining the decision, preparing the ground, or beginning to build consensus around what has already been decided.

This shows. And no one likes it at all. No one likes to be deceived.

They may not say it explicitly, but they perceive that the conversation has limits no one mentions, but are felt. Contributions can be made, yes, but there is a line that no one expects to be crossed.

Over time, if these meetings keep repeating, they end up leaving a strange feeling. And it’s not that they are useless. In fact, they can be very effective and serve to share information, provide context, or explain why a decision was made.

But they are not the decision-making space they seemed to be at the beginning.

And this ambiguity ends up affecting something very delicate within teams: trust in the process. When people feel decisions have already been made, they don’t participate in the same way.

They keep attending meetings, they keep giving opinions, but with a different energy. They participate, but no longer believe.

Perhaps, in these cases, the important question is not whether that meeting was necessary or not. The question is another.

When we call a meeting to decide together…do we really want to decide together? Or is it a “cosmetic” meeting to make the decision seem shared?