Yesterday, an old colleague came to consult me.
I had not met her for quite some time, but I remembered her well. She used to be chirpy, confident and full of energy. She was the kind of person who could walk into a dull meeting and lift the mood within minutes. Always curious, always contributing and always ready for the next challenge.
But the person sitting across from me looked completely different.
Her shoulders were lowered. Her words came slowly. She repeatedly questioned her own judgement. The enthusiasm that once defined her had disappeared.
She did not look tired from one difficult week.
She looked like a lost soul.
After the usual greetings, I asked her a simple question:
“What happened to you?”
For a few seconds, she remained silent.
Then the story came out.
“Maybe I Am the Problem”
She had joined an organisation with great excitement. The position looked promising, the responsibilities were significant, and the leadership spoke passionately about teamwork, innovation and growth.
Initially, she gave the role everything she had.
She suggested improvements, volunteered for difficult assignments and helped colleagues whenever they struggled. She believed that if she worked sincerely and delivered results, her contribution would be recognised.
Instead, something strange began to happen.
Her ideas were dismissed in meetings, only to reappear later under someone else’s name. Information required for her work reached her late or not at all. Important decisions were taken in conversations from which she was deliberately excluded.
Whenever senior leaders appreciated her work, the atmosphere around her changed.
A colleague would make a sarcastic remark. Someone would suddenly question her competence. Minor mistakes would be magnified, while successful outcomes were described as team efforts with no mention of her contribution.
Her manager did not protect her. In fact, he appeared uncomfortable whenever she received visibility.
One day he praised her initiative. The next day he told her she was “trying to do too much.” When she remained quiet, she was criticised for lacking ownership. When she spoke confidently, she was told she needed to be “more collaborative.”
The rules kept changing.
And every version of the rules seemed designed to make her wrong.
As she spoke, she kept returning to the same painful sentence:
“Maybe I am the problem.”
Listening to her, I could clearly understand what she was describing.
She was stuck in a Crab Organisation.
The Crabs in the Bucket
There is a familiar story about crabs placed inside a bucket. If one crab attempts to climb out, the others pull it back down. Individually, a crab might escape. Collectively, they make sure that none of them does.
Some workplaces function in exactly the same way.
In a Crab Organisation, another person’s success is not seen as inspiration. It is treated as a threat.
People do not ask, “How can we rise together?”
They ask, “Why should that person rise above me?”
The pulling down may not always be obvious. There may be no dramatic confrontation or openly declared enemy. It often happens through small, repeated acts:
- Information is selectively withheld.
- Ideas are criticised without being understood.
- Credit travels upward, while blame travels downward.
- Capable employees are excluded from important discussions.
- Rumours begin when someone receives recognition.
- Managers limit talented team members to protect their own importance.
- Loyalty to individuals is rewarded more than honesty toward the organisation.
- Confident employees are labelled arrogant, and questioning employees are called difficult.
Each incident may appear minor in isolation. Together, they gradually destroy a person’s confidence.
Chaos Is Not Always Accidental
My former colleague described an environment of constant confusion.
Priorities changed without explanation. Different leaders gave conflicting instructions. Nobody knew who truly owned a decision. Meetings produced more meetings, but rarely produced clarity.
When a project succeeded, multiple people appeared to claim it.
When something went wrong, everyone disappeared.
At first, she assumed that the chaos was simply the result of poor management. Eventually, she realised that some people benefited from the confusion.
In unclear systems, political players gain power. They control information, interpret rules according to convenience and position themselves between decision-makers and those doing the actual work.
Chaos becomes a hiding place.
Competent employees are especially vulnerable because they try to create structure. By doing so, they unintentionally expose those who benefit from disorder.
The response is predictable: pull them down before they become too visible.
The Turning Point
I allowed her to finish without interrupting.
Then I asked:
“Before joining this organisation, did you doubt your ability this much?”
She looked at me and said, “No.”
“Did people previously trust you with difficult responsibilities?”
“Yes.”
“Did you suddenly lose your intelligence, experience and work ethic after joining this company?”
She paused.
Then, for the first time in our conversation, she smiled.
“No, I don’t think so.”
That was the turning point.
I told her that self-reflection is valuable, and all of us must remain open to feedback. But repeated exposure to manipulation can make a capable person question qualities that were never missing.
Not every uncomfortable workplace is toxic. Not every disagreement is jealousy. But when expectations constantly shift, contributions are repeatedly erased, information is deliberately withheld, and confidence steadily collapses, the problem may be larger than personal performance.
Sometimes the person is not failing the system.
The system is failing the person.
Finding a Way Out
We did not begin by drafting a resignation letter.
We began by rebuilding clarity.
I asked her to document her responsibilities, achievements, feedback and key workplace incidents objectively. The purpose was not to create a case against everyone. It was to separate facts from the emotional fog created by months of confusion.
Next, we identified what remained within her control:
- Communicate decisions and agreements in writing.
- Ask for priorities and ownership to be clarified.
- Build professional relationships beyond one manager.
- Stop sharing every unfinished idea with people who repeatedly misuse them.
- Seek feedback from credible and neutral individuals.
- Maintain boundaries around disrespectful behaviour.
- Invest in skills and relationships outside the organisation.
- Prepare an exit plan if the culture remains unchanged.
Most importantly, I asked her not to measure her worth through the behaviour of insecure people.
The objective was not to defeat the other crabs.
It was to stop accepting the bucket as the entire world.
She decided to reconnect with former colleagues and industry contacts. She would update her professional profile, invest in learning and begin exploring new opportunities.
Nothing magical would happen overnight.
But before leaving my office, her voice sounded firmer.
Her choices seemed clearer.
For the first time that day, I could see a glimpse of the confident person I once knew.
A Message for Leaders
Crab Organisations are not created only by difficult employees. They survive because leadership allows pulling-down behaviour to succeed.
If those who hoard information are promoted, information will be hoarded. If managers take credit and shift blame without consequences, others will copy them. If collaboration appears in company values but political behaviour determines career growth, employees will believe the promotions, not the posters.
Leaders must create clear accountability, transparent opportunities and psychological safety. They must reward people not only for what they achieve, but also for how they help others succeed.
A strong manager is not threatened by talented team members.
A strong manager develops them.
Remove the Bucket
Before leaving, my old colleague said something I have continued to think about:
“I came here believing I had lost myself. Now I realise I have been spending all my energy trying not to be pulled down.”
That is what a Crab Organisation does.
It turns confident people into cautious people. It converts creativity into self-protection and teamwork into survival. Eventually, employees stop asking how high they can climb and focus only on getting through another day.
If someone in your workplace begins to rise, what happens next?
Do people support them?
Or do hands quietly reach for their legs?
Great organisations do not pull people back into the bucket. They create ladders, open doors and make room at the top.
Sometimes, however, the healthiest resolution is not to keep fighting inside the bucket.
It is to climb out, rediscover yourself and refuse to let anyone pull you back in.
