I met a curious, clever young woman recently. She was smart, a real systems thinker, and passionate about doing great work. When we got to talking about solving problems at work, she screwed up her nose in frustration.
"I tried raising some of this with my boss," she began, "But he didn't want to know."
She explained that she'd tried to raise a variety of issues and tackled them constructively, creating a shared whiteboard online for suggestions, solutions, and ideas.
Before it could gain traction, her manager demanded that she delete it - but not fast enough, as it turned out. Her team members had been excited about the opportunity to contribute and were confused when the whiteboard disappeared.
It gets worse. After dismissing her bright idea, she is called into his office. At the same time, he inquires about her "well-being," suggesting she turn to the workplace-funded counselling service if she isn't coping.
I. Am. Furious.
This is a clear-cut abuse of power. In short: this is gaslighting at work. Feeling threatened by the prospect of his power being challenged or shortcomings being revealed, this male manager used his position of authority to demean and invalidate his young staffer, implying it was more likely she was crazy than something was wrong.
Unsurprisingly, this was not the first or last time she had encountered this behaviour. This particular example is pretty clear-cut, but they aren't all this easy to spot.
Other varieties of gaslighting at work are sneakier: you might have it suggested or implied that you're being paranoid, or oversensitive.
Perhaps you've been accused of overreacting or making trouble when you raise concerns or call out behaviour that feels off. Maybe you have had your judgement or expertise overruled or challenged in a way that suggests you're missing the point, but when you're pretty confident, you're not.
Perhaps you're accused of not having a sense of humour or told to calm down when your feelings are hurt. You might be blamed for small mistakes you're sure you didn't make or told you misheard or misunderstood clearly stated comments.
Gaslighting is psychological manipulation aimed at undermining your grip on reality. It leaves you questioning your feelings, experiences, or interpretation of a situation, and while it is certainly not exclusively levied on women, we are more likely to suffer from it.
Women, along with other marginalised groups such as people of colour, people who speak English as a second language, neurodiverse people and disabled people, are more likely to be painted as irrational, emotional or unreasonable in all spheres, including at work - and white, able-bodied men disproportionately occupy the positions of power that allow them to wield this tactic against their staff and colleagues.
You could be forgiven for thinking only meek, quiet people struggle with this, but you'd be wrong. This woman was a confident, articulate professional with no qualms about taking initiative and speaking up—at least, she was. She'd been shrinking a little recently, she confided in me, and starting to wonder if it was worth the fuss. Did I have any advice, she asked? How could she adapt to these circumstances and find a way to have her point heard?
While devastating to hear, this is no surprise. Over time, gaslighting erodes confidence. We second-guess ourselves and our skills, feel confused, blame ourselves for "not getting it", and become indecisive, questioning our judgement and understanding. It is a cruel, malicious power grab wielded by people who lack the strength and confidence to engage in open conversations that might threaten their status or power, and it's not OK.
I left this conversation feeling dejected, upset, and frustrated there was nothing I could do to fix it. In workplaces that produce and reward leaders who behave this way, their victims have little recourse. Gaslighters are often popular. They're in positions of power that elevate their judgement and opinion, where their decisions receive the benefit of the doubt. They risk little when they label others as troublemakers.
Being labelled a troublemaker, however, carries huge risks. Taking issues to HR or senior leadership creates a cascade of intervention, scrutiny, and doubt with minimal payoff, even when you're successful. It's socially and professionally isolating, as people avoid being tarred with the same brush, and in most cases, the powerful simply consolidate their power.
Sanctions are pitiful, if they even exist and despite the media furore about "cancel culture" most abusers continue to operate unchecked, even when their behaviour has been exposed.
In my work, I instruct people in strategic systems thinking. I urge them to challenge unchecked norms and conventions, dig deeper to solve entrenched issues, and assume the positive intent of the people they work with, who are often playing the same unwinnable games. To be more influential, I implore, you need to agitate from within, meet people where they're at, and engage with compassionate curiosity to solve problems together.
But in situations like this, that advice goes out the window. It is not the responsibility of people who are being bullied, gaslit or abused at work - or anywhere - to be more resilient, cope better, or fix the system that's hurting them. It is the responsibility of people with power to use it with care.
My advice to this young woman, though it hurt to give, was simple: Get the f**k out of there. You do not have to tolerate this, and you do not have to be the one who's stronger, better or more tenacious. You do not need to assemble a case, prove your experiences or become "more resilient." You need to get out.
I hate giving this advice. Weekly, I encounter stories of bright, incredible professionals who've opted out of systems and situations that bring them down. Women who are sexually harassed or assaulted. People of colour who are treated as tokens and never listened to. Disabled people with activist fatigue who tire of being brave and resilient. Working class people who accept they'll never belong because they don't speak the language or have the right networks.
Sometimes, they leave completely. In other cases, they do what this young woman had done: they shrink. They stop speaking up or pushing for change and resign themselves to a less fulfilling work life, deciding it isn't worth the trouble.
In either case, we all lose. We dilute the quality of decisions, hamstring the impact of our services, and preserve the unchallenged, outdated dominance of people who assume power and status as their birthright.
If you're being gaslit at work, know this: