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Is it Safe to Doubt the Effectiveness of Psychological Safety?

Writer: jameschappell2
jameschappell2
Oct 28
2 min read

I remember the irony of realizing that I didn’t feel safe openly questioning psychological safety. 


The looks I got from workshop facilitators and other participants made it clear my kind of questions were unwelcome. Sometimes I shut my mouth, other times I didn’t.


When I did speak, it felt like attempting an Olympic dive that ended in a glorious belly-flop. All zeros from the judges. Not a clap in sight. 


To be fair, some of my objections were poorly articulated and unnecessarily aggressive.

Part of me just wanted to be contrarian. Everyone thinks this is great, eh? Well, then that sounds suspicious to me! At the same time, something genuinely bothered me about psychological safety. It felt incomplete and risky.


Over the next 8 years, I devoured everything I could on the topic. I read Amy Edmondson’s famous book, Carol Sanford’s critique of her work, and had a lot of conversations with friends, colleagues, clients, and students. 


During those eight years, I matured, got married, and worked on my writing, which improved my thinking. Despite not always feeling safe expressing my doubts, I kept trying. With each attempt, I became more articulate, more respectful, and less confrontational. 


The surface level of psychological safety made sense – if I feel safe to speak up, I am more likely to. But if I don’t feel safe, then what? Am I supposed to become dependent on others massaging my safety into blissful readiness? 


I finally understood what had bothered me years ago. In Japan, psychological safety is taught only as something to externally give to other people. Missing from the discussion was internally generated safety: the belief that I can handle uncomfortable situations, even when others don't make it easier for me.


Focusing only on externally given safety risks creating unintended consequences, including dependency and missed opportunities for self-growth. I believe developing both external and internal safety together would be far more effective.


Fear, after all, is a bit like gravity. It pulls on us, but that doesn't mean we have to sit around waiting for someone with a crane to lift us up.


We can learn to move on our own.


How? Simple in theory, hard in practice: speak anyway, despite the fear. Belly-flop. Recover. Figure out what you could have done differently. Try again. Over time, you become more confident in your ability to speak up, even when you're afraid.

Internal safety is learnable.


Now, many years later, I am thankful that I did not feel safe expressing doubts about psychological safety. That forged the man I am today, and I prefer this version. 

 

 
 
 

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