Do Not Obey in Advance: Making Space for Dissent in Organizations

Volume 8: February 2025

Do Not Obey in Advance:

Making Space for Dissent in Organizations

We live in an unsettling time: an age of unrest and uncertainty, where the mood of the moment teeters between visions of hope and ominous clouds of darkness. Given this climate, many people have begun to look for solutions that will bring stability to their lives. And they’ve begun to revisit old questions — ones supposedly resolved decades ago: Does democracy work, or is it too slow, broken and messy? Are we still committed to the liberal vision of equality for all? Is it better to vest power in one strong leader who promises to clean things up and run our affairs more efficiently?

As a citizen, I’m paying close attention to these debates. As a student of leadership and change, I’m seeking to understand the mechanisms at work. And as a coach and consultant, I’m curious about the implications for those of us who live and breathe organizational life on a daily basis.

I’d like to focus on this last point and consider the role organizations play in the development of healthy, vibrant democratic societies. Too often we think of our places of work as free-standing entities that are more or less insulated from other spheres of life. By contrast,**I see organizations as an integral part of the social fabric; systems with permeable boundaries that both influence and are influenced by the world around them. Moreover, given the amount of time most of us spend at work — learning how to collectively solve problems, resolve differences, and get things done — I’ve come to see organizations as vital sites for instilling the values that shape what kind of citizens we want to be. There are, of course, many workplaces that can be characterized as democratic, with high degrees of trust and empowerment. Yet I am concerned that organizations can just as easily slide into repressive autocracies, modeling behaviors and mindsets that are decidedly undemocratic.

For those of us with deep access to the inner workings of organizations — leaders, HR professionals, and external practitioners — this raises a number of difficult questions: How might we be inadvertently enabling autocratic systems? Are we coaching individuals and teams to be more collaborative or guiding them to comply with the norms of control-oriented cultures? Have we equipped them to recognize the difference between respectful cooperation and involuntary submission? When is it appropriate notto conform — to dissent instead of obey?

**The First Rule: Do Not Obey in Advance**

Let’s begin by understanding how autocracies work. Historians tell us that autocrats rarely acquire power through force. In fact, most authoritarian power is given freely by ordinary people who decide to go along, even if they find the system abhorrent. How can that be?

Many scholars have concluded this kind of power operates through a process of stifling critical thinking and creating new norms, which people then internalize, self-monitor, and obey. Steven Lukes (1970), is not visible coercion but the invisiblepowerfor example, argued that the “the supreme and most insidious exercise of power” to prevent dissent from arising in the first place by shaping people’s “perceptions” so that they “accept their role in the existing order of things” (p. 24). Paulo Freire (2000) observed a similar phenomenon in his work with impoverished Brazilian communities. Looking beyond the obvious mechanisms of authority, Freire noted that people were socialized into a generalized pattern of compliance that seemed to seep into the “very structure of their thought,” creating an “attitude of ‘adhesion’ to the oppressor” (p. 45).

The historian Timothy Snyder (2017) builds on these ideas in his book, On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century. Initially, Snyder says, would-be autocrats bluff and test to find out what principles people will be willing to concede. Eventually, by letting things pass unchallenged, individuals give implicit consent to these new norms. Worse still, they begin to anticipate what a more repressive regime will want “and then offer themselves without being asked.” For example, after Germany’s annexation of Austria in 1938, many people who were not Nazis chose to voluntarily and preemptively join in the persecution of Jews. “A citizen who adapts in this way is teaching power what it can do,” says Snyder (p. 17). Indeed, the “anticipatory obedience” of Austrians taught Nazi’s how to leverage their power and realize their goals more quickly. Clearly, Snyder’s broader point is that autocracy in any form is fueled by such “heedless acts of conformity,” leading him to his first and most important lesson: “Do not obey in advance.”

Today, these concerns are magnified in light of the intertwining challenges posed by technology. First, there are the tools featuring AI-enabled, addictive algorithms meant to keep people online, distracted and immobilized. Then there are the increasingly invasive surveillance technologies designed to track people’s activities and transactions and to gather their personal data at home and at work. And yet, as journalist Adrienne LaFrance (2024) points out, the real problem is not the tools; it’s the immense power of a small group of billionaires running a set of unregulated technology behemoths. Further, LaFrance argues, many tech leaders have recently begun to vocalize an illiberal philosophy she dubs “authoritarian technocracy” — an ideology that argues for their unconstrained power, unchecked technological innovation, and complete disregard for the human right to individual privacy (p. 12).

Considering all this, I suggest a corollary to Snyder’s rule: “Do not obey — OR give away your data — in advance.”

**Four Days in Prague**

Snyder’s words remind me of an experience I once had delivering a four-day leadership program to a feisty group of young professionals. It was 2008, and I arrived in Prague on a warm summer’s day, buoyed by a successful run of leadership workshops around the globe. This, however, was my first experience with a group comprised entirely of Eastern Europeans. In truth, as an American with little knowledge of their history and cultures — and zero experience with Soviet-era oppression — I was naïve and ill-equipped to appreciate the perspectives each person brought into the room.

Predictably, things did not go well. From the start, the group did not readily accept either the program content or methods of delivery. Yes, they would follow directions, but with a sort of begrudging compliance accompanied by pointed critiques. They disrupted class discussions by talking amongst themselves or were guarded and silent. What’s more, several times they turned the tables on me in surprising ways. For example, as I was giving instructions for an exercise on presentations, one participant said to me, “Why don’t you do it?” Stunned, I was completely caught off guard, and the next thing I knew, the class was critiquing my presentation skills!

As sometimes happens, the real learning came later, when I was able to put myself in their shoes. To begin, Slavic cultures are known to be wary of strangers. Add to this decades of communist rule, which in 2008 was still a recent memory. In particular, I learned that Romanians — and there were several in the class — had reportedly suffered greatly from authoritarian abuses. I also knew the post-Soviet era had been marked by turmoil and hardship. Life, I suspected, had taught these participants that leadership could be ugly, corrupt, and harmful and that trust must be earned, not thoughtlessly volunteered.

In the end, I came to admire that defiant bunch in Prague for teaching me an invaluable lesson that has stayed with me over the years. For even though I can’t claim to know for certain why they were unwilling to comply (I never asked) these students exemplified a refusal to seek my approval or anticipate my demands. As Snyder would say, they definitively did notobey in advance.

**Sorting and Striving: Two Stories from the Field**

Since Prague, I’ve encountered few other dissenters in my work. Instead, I realize we expect (and usually receive) a level of compliance in our organizations that is, frankly, stunning. Why is that?

To begin, as Keith Grint (2024) recently observed, the notion of resistance in organizations is generally considered a bad idea — something for leaders to overcome. Equally important are the everyday acts of compliance that don’t rise to the level of consciousness, much less disagreement. A simple example is the way in which organizations expect employee’s to share private self-assessment data, such as Myers-Briggs, DiSC, or True Colours, in team exercises or even company “dashboards,” with little regard for the rules of confidentiality. Are people so used to giving away their data it doesn’t even rise to the level of concern? Has the fear of consequences completely stifled their voices? Or have we just trained the resistance out of them? What’s going on?

To explore this question, I asked a few friends and family members to reflect on their current work experiences. The most compelling — and strikingly similar — narratives came from two professionals working in well-known global brands: one in technology (we’ll call her Teri), the other in management consulting (Connie).

Initially, both Teri and Connie described their companies as driven to excel, brimming with talent, and laser focused on their customers. This, however, came with a cost. Overall, both described hypercompetitive, individualistic, cultures relentlessly focused on achievement and upward mobility. In this sink-or-swim environment, career advancement required a superior annual performance rating from a senior sponsor; without that, there would be no promotions, no juicy new assignments, and no opportunity to rise in the hierarchy. As Teri described it, this meant finding a leader whose “star was rising” and then “riding their coattails.” Proving your worth also meant working insanely hard. They “burned people out,” said Connie, “It made me feel suffocated, disempowered.” Yet, because their work and communications were subject to continual monitoring and surveillance, both kept it up. “There was no autonomy,” said Teri. “They knew everything I put on my computer.”

Why not push back? “Rocking the boat” was frowned on, they explained. In fact, in an environment of continual change — shifting managers, cost cuts, new processes — dissent would only increase the ever present risk of losing sponsorship and status. In fact, Connie said, the winners were those willing to pivot and “go with the change without making noise” (a dynamic that sounds eerily similar to Snyder’s description of anticipatory obedience). “You should feel lucky” to be among the elite, they were both told. “As a result,” Connie said, “people fed into the system and didn’t challenge it.”

What do I make of these two voices plucked from a sea of others? In actuality, their stories sound hauntingly familiar. They also bring to mind the work of Michael Sandel (2020) on meritocracy. As Sandel says, there’s a benefit to individualistic cultures as they encourage people to be “responsible for their own fate, and not victims of forces beyond their control” (p. 59). And yet, the same dynamics create oppressive, hypercompetitive systems of “sorting and striving” that inflict crushing and “soul-destroying demands” on their members (p. 177).

With this in mind, what I find most disturbing is the way coaching and HR methods, purportedly invented for growth and development, have been appropriated for other ends. Indeed, the most pernicious aspect of Teri and Connie’s stories is the use of performance- and talent-management processes for control and compliance. Multirater feedback, for example, was used extensively in performance management. For Connie, this feedback was shrouded in secrecy: “I was never allowed to know who was on my review committee,” so people could say anything they liked without recourse or conversation. Normally confidential personal-styles assessments were “required and very public,” said Teri. Both had been promised promotions that were inexplicably not fulfilled. As Teri said, “There was a lot of tearing down and gas-lighting.” For Connie, it was a system of “dishonesty and lies.” In the end, both felt manipulated by processes that seemed rigid, punitive, and opaque.

**In Search of the Perfect Leader**

Sounds grim, I know. But autocracies are not cheerful places. Remember: My purpose is to understand how organizations arrive at the autocratic end of the spectrum, and Teri and Connie’s stories provide stark clarity on how that might occur. Further, what are the implications for leaders, HR, and external professionals? What blind spots must we acknowledge? What orthodoxies should we be challenging?

We might begin by taking a hard look at the assumptions underlying our disciplines, starting with the pervasive belief that perfection is achievable in the form of flawless organizations, impeccable HR systems, exceptional teams, and, above all, ideal leaders. According to the late Czech statesman Vaclav Havel (1992), these utopian myths originate with the Western belief that our world is “a wholly knowable system” that man can “rationally direct for his own benefit.” The propensity to engineer sweeping grand solutions, Havel argued, can undergird anything from the market laws of capitalism to autocratic communism, which he described as an attempt to plan, organize, and control “all of life according to a single model … regardless of whether or not that was what life wanted.”

It’s not hard to see a similar ideology at work in the organizational systems described earlier. Nowhere is this ideology more evident than in our approach to leadership development. As Amanda Sinclair (2011) notes, “At an institutional level, aspiring leaders are now subject to increasing levels of surveillance and discipline around producing the ‘right’ identity” (p. 509). Ideal leadership personas are enshrined in competency models, presented as “truth,” and then incorporated into a variety of assessment tools and processes designed to squeeze the leader into a predefined mold. As a result, says Sinclair, leaders become “in deep and self-disciplining ways, agents for maintaining the cultural status quo” (p. 511).

“Few things,” says Brent Flyvbjerg (2001), “have produced more suffering than the commitment to implementing utopian visions for the good” (p. 100). Indeed, in a system of relentless striving that values toughness and winning over caring and connection, many leaders live with a constant, low-level hum of anxiety and suffering, gripped by fear that their performance will fall short of a set of internalized organizational norms.

**Stirring the Embers of Dissent**

I have another memory; this one from my earliest career in city government. At the time, we were led by a seasoned city manager, highly respected for his integrity and professionalism, who was being viciously attacked by a power-hungry councilman who hoped to force the manager’s resignation. The day before he was rumored to step down, a whispered message went through the building: “Everyone, gather tomorrow morning at 9:00.” Sure enough, at the appointed hour, the entire staff — well over 100 people — quietly assembled in city hall’s huge three-story atrium. There were no speeches, just a loud cheer when the city manager waved to us as he arrived. Afterward, given this show of support, he decided not to resign. Instead, he told the city council, “You’ll have to fire me.”

A few weeks later, they did — but our protest allowed him to leave with dignity. And it instilled in me a small defiant ember that has carried me through the ups and downs of a long career.

Now, reflecting on our current climate — and Snyder’s injunction, “Do not obey in advance” — I think it may be time to stir those embers. For those of you who care to join me, I offer three thoughts:

**Tune into your practical wisdom**

Times like this demand a more advanced form of intelligence: what Aristotle called phronesis, or practical wisdom. It’s practical because it**draws on our day-to-day lived experience within a specific, ever-evolving context. It’s wise because it’s focused on taking ethical action, grounded in the question, what is good and bad for humans and the earth we inhabit? This form of wisdom draws on our capacity to reflect and use common sense. In plain terms: we know bullshit when we hear it, and coercion when we see it. So, we engage in practical wisdom when we use values and common sense to guide our thoughts and actions for the collective good.

**Know your ethical boundaries**

The problems I’ve raised are rife with ethical ambiguity; they ask us to look beyond business goals and wrestle with boundaries between right and wrong. This, of course, is why we have ethical codes and when they can be of the greatest value. Beyond this, says Donna Ladkin (2015), drawing ethical limits requires the skills of “paying attention” and “inquiry” (p. 2). Questions you might pose to yourself, colleagues or clients include: Why is this bothering me? Who else matters? How will they be impacted? Is this causing harm? Am I being true to myself?

**Listen for the “no”**

Democracy requires dialogue, which is precisely what autocrats fear most. As Paulo Freire (2000) said, humans “are not built in silence,” and we dehumanize others when we deny their right to “speak their word.” (p. 88). Yet, how do we bring dissent to the surface? According to Myrna Lewis (2018), the co-founder of Lewis Deep Democracy, when voices are suppressed, the most powerful antidote is to listen for the unspoken ‘no’ that may come in the form of a colleague’s hesitation or a group’s silence in a meeting. When we ask a simple question like ‘Who else feels this way?’ we open the door to disparate voices. We invite open dialogue, and the recovery of what Freire calls conscientização, or “critical consciousness.”

Critical consciousness: in the end, isn’t this what we want for ourselves and our organizations — the capacity to reflect and take action in accordance with our wisdom, knowledge and values?

This article is an expanded version of one previously published in the January 2025 issue of Coaching Perspectives, the Association for Coaching’s flagship international publication.