Leaked Emails, allegations of corruption, paranoia
The posters say the council wants a “psychologically safe environment”. People should feel able to speak up. Challenge the leadership. Raise concerns. No fear. No blame. That is the theory.
Then along comes a big outsourcing contract. Lots of money. Lots of interest. Lots of questions.
A local paper runs a story. Then another. And another. The allegation is simple. Financial procedures were not followed. The process was “fast tracked”. A favoured bidder got the job.
The journalists say they have emails. Leaked emails.
The council leader is furious. Not about the procedures. Not about the contract. About the leak.
The instruction goes out to the chief executive. Find the source.
Enter the investigator. A former detective. The sort who used to chase burglars and missing persons. Now chasing emails.
Internal emails are examined. Every message. Every comment. Every raised eyebrow in digital form.
Managers begin to feel uneasy. People start to remember things they wrote. A sarcastic line. A joke. A frustrated aside sent late on a Friday afternoon. It seemed harmless at the time. Now it looks like evidence.
The atmosphere changes. You can feel it in meetings. Conversations become careful. People pause before speaking. They check who else is in the room.
The council says it is looking for the leak. But something else is happening.
Managers are interviewed. Not in a dark room. This is local government after all. But the questions have a familiar tone. Have you ever criticised the leadership? Have you heard others do so?
It sounds oddly historic. A faint echo of the 1950s. The era of Senator Joseph McCarthy in the United States. The famous question: “Are you now or have you ever been a member of the Communist Party?”
In this version the ideology is different. But the effect is similar.
People look nervous. Because the honest answer is obvious. Of course managers have criticised the leadership. Everyone has.
Usually in private. Usually over coffee. Sometimes in a corridor. Occasionally in an email they thought nobody important would read.
That is how organisations work. People let off steam. They test ideas. They complain a bit. It is called being human.
But now the hunt is on.
The council chamber begins to feel a bit like Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell. Not quite Room 101. But edging towards the Ministry of Truth.
Emails are scrutinised. Context disappears. Irony dies quietly in a spreadsheet.
Managers begin to self-edit. Then they stop saying anything interesting at all.
That is the real damage.
Because psychological safety is not a slogan on a poster. It is the confidence that you can speak honestly. It is knowing that disagreement is allowed. Even welcomed.
Without that you get silence.
And silence is dangerous.
No one raises risks. No one questions decisions. No one says the obvious thing. The leadership hears only what it wants to hear. Which, ironically, is how bad decisions get made.
Meanwhile the gossip machine goes into overdrive. Corridors hum with speculation. Who is the leak? Who is under suspicion? Who had their email checked?
It starts to feel less like a modern council. More like a retro political drama. The sort with trench coats and whispered conversations.
All of which proves one thing.
If you want the opposite of a psychologically safe environment, this is how you do it.
Start a leak hunt. Read everyone’s emails. Ask managers if they have ever criticised the leadership.
And watch trust disappear faster than a council budget in February.
Blair McPherson former director author and blogger blairmcpherson.uk
