How to know if you’re in a psychologically safe environment — and what you can do about it if you’re not

It’s inevitable that you’ll brush up against wrongdoing somewhere in your life — whether it’s the result of inadvertent error or a product of malicious intent.

Ideally, of course, you’d share your concerns or suggestions. But that requires a lot of strength. You may worry you’ll be punished, humiliated, or judged for speaking up. In order to feel psychologically safe voicing concern, you need to believe that the institution you’re interacting with is healthy enough to put a stop to wrongdoing and to hear your reports without penalizing you for them.

The topic of psychological safety has been on the rise for the past 30 years, growing in its popularity as our businesses and interpersonal lives have become increasingly more complicated. Amy Edmondson, a renowned lecturer on the topic, notes that psychological safety is crucial for the health of our businesses, communal institutions, and even families.

Here are three stories that show how the effects of psychological safety — or lack of it — can reverberate within our community.

Singularly Painful

I’ve been working in an office for three years now, and I’m really proud of what I’ve accomplished. I came in straight from seminary, without any experience, and I’ve picked up a lot of skills in the meantime. I turn in all my work on time and am the type of employee who can be counted on.

There’s only one problem: I’m still single.

And apparently, because of that, I don’t count.

Last week, when a coworker left, I assumed I’d be promoted to her position. I was the obvious next person in line. Yet somehow, Baila was chosen, after being here for only six months.

I was really hurt and upset. I’m extremely dedicated, I know I do a good job, but once again, I was turned down for a bonus or advancement.

Well, this time was going to be different. I approached my boss and asked him if he could explain to me why I kept getting passed over for opportunities. His reply: “Devora, when you get married, we’ll consider you for one.”

I don’t think the word furious does justice to describe my feelings at that moment. Am I subpar because I haven’t found a husband? Am I less talented? Do I contribute less than my coworkers because I’m single? These were the questions that raced through my mind, but I wouldn’t dare say them out loud. I wish I could have.

I spent the rest of the day trying to calm down and bought myself a pity iced coffee on the way home. After thinking about it some more, I decided that since there was no resolution, I was going to go back to my boss again. I felt a renewed sense of confidence, not because my boss was open or receptive, which he was most definitely not, but because I felt emboldened to advocate for myself in the face of such injustice.