
By Rose Byass
Across Australia, psychological safety has become a visible organisational priority. Policies are written, wellbeing calendars are circulated, diversity roles are established, and walls and intranets are refreshed with carefully chosen language about inclusion, respect, and safety. On paper, many organisations appear to be doing all the right things.
Yet for many workers, the lived experience tells a different story. Bullying continues because the person responsible is considered “too valuable” or “too entrenched” to challenge. Misconduct and fraud are quietly rationalised rather than addressed. New starters arrive with optimism and leave within months, often blamed for “not being the right fit.” Meetings are quiet, concerns are raised privately—if at all—and after incidents, silence replaces learning. When harm occurs, the explanation offered is not system failure, but individual resilience: people are told to toughen up, cope better, or manage their reactions.
This disconnect is not merely cultural or attitudinal. It is a governance failure. Psychological safety is not a mood, a benefit, or a branding exercise. It sits squarely within psychosocial hazard management, which Australian work health and safety regulators clearly identify as a category of workplace risk capable of causing serious harm. Safe Work Australia explicitly recognises psychosocial hazards—such as bullying, role ambiguity, poor support, and unsafe leadership behaviours—as hazards that must be identified, assessed, controlled, and reviewed like any other WHS risk.
When organisations treat psychological safety as a sentiment rather than a system, they under-invest in the controls that actually prevent harm. The result is a widening gap between what organisations say about safety and what workers experience in practice—one that carries human, legal, and financial consequences.
Psychological safety is not:
In the research literature, psychological safety is a shared belief that it is safe to take interpersonal risks—speaking up, admitting errors, asking questions—without fear of humiliation or punishment. Amy Edmondson’s seminal work links psychological safety to team learning behaviours and performance. What leaders often miss is this: psychological safety is not created by intentions; it is created by systems, behaviour norms, and power dynamics.
If you want a board to listen, you talk in:
Safe Work Australia’s national reporting consistently shows that mental health condition claims are among the costliest forms of workplace injury:
This isn’t “soft” risk. It’s expensive, persistent, and organisationally destabilising. And this sits alongside broader Australian workplace injury experience. The ABS estimates that in 2021–22, 497,300 people experienced a work-related injury or illness (3.5% of those who worked in the previous 12 months). Boards are increasingly accountable for ensuring psychosocial hazards are identified and controlled with the same seriousness as physical hazards—because the cost curve is not going down on goodwill alone.
Under the model WHS laws, PCBUs must manage psychosocial hazards. Safe Work Australia provides both high-level guidance and a Model Code of Practice that sets expectations for identifying hazards, assessing risk, controlling risk, and reviewing controls. This is why posters and cupcake days fail as “solutions.” They are not controls. They do not:
In other words, they do not reduce the hazard or likelihood of harm in any reliable way. ISO guidance takes the same direction. ISO 45003 provides guidelines for managing psychosocial risk within an OH&S management system (as a companion to ISO 45001). The through-line is clear:
psychological safety should be treated as a managed risk system, not a morale initiative.
A recent interview experience crystallised a point that many organisations still struggle to grasp. At the conclusion of an interview for a senior management role, a reasonable question was asked:
The explanation offered was straightforward and evidence-based: psychological safety begins from the moment a person joins an organisation. It is shaped through effective onboarding, clear expectations, mentoring, and having the practical fundamentals in place — a workspace, system access, logins, direction, and support to do the job well.
This framing aligns with contemporary research and good governance practice.
What followed was unexpected.
A panel member responded abruptly that what had been described was merely “hardware,” and that the organisation was only interested in “software,” such as resilience — adding that if someone lacked resilience, they should “pull up their big girl pants.” The comment was alarming, not because it was offensive, but because it revealed a common and consequential organisational error: confusing individual coping capacity with organisational control. Resilience matters. But resilience is not a substitute for:
No level of individual resilience compensates for poor systems or embedded organisational dysfunction. Equally, it is not a personal failing for a new employee to expect to be set up for success when they commence a role — it is a basic organisational responsibility.
When leaders default to “toughen up,” “sink or swim,” or similar narratives, two predictable outcomes follow:
Safe Work Australia’s psychosocial hazard research consistently links hazards such as bullying, excessive work pressure, and poor organisational support to psychological injury claims and prolonged time away from work.
Notably, the chair of the interview panel later apologised for the comment. That acknowledgement mattered. It highlighted an important truth: senior leaders often recognise when a cultural signal is wrong — yet those signals still occur when organisations lack a shared, consistent understanding of psychosocial risk and psychological safety across all levels.
Culture is not what is written in policy or spoken in leadership statements.
It is revealed — often unintentionally — in moments like these.
A big reason organisations lean on posters and policies is that they assume behaviour is rational and fully voluntary:
But under pressure, humans default to threat responses: freezing, fawning (appeasing), withdrawing, avoiding, or becoming defensive. In workplaces, this shows up as:
Psychological safety is the condition that reduces interpersonal threat enough for people to speak up and participate. That is why Edmondson’s research ties it to learning behaviours and performance: without safety, people protect themselves, not the system. This is the core misunderstanding:
A policy can describe expectations. Only a system can reliably change behaviour under pressure.
Let’s name the pattern. When culture is failing, many organisations respond with:
These can be positive add-ons, but they are often used as a substitute for doing the harder work:
This isn’t cynicism; it’s risk logic:
It’s entirely possible to have a bright, values-filled intranet and a psychologically unsafe workplace.
If we strip away buzzwords, psychological safety is managed through the same logic as any WHS hazard:
Use multiple sources:
Safe Work Australia promotes People at Work as a validated Australian psychosocial risk assessment survey.
Not every issue is equal. A few examples:
Controls include:
The Model Code of Practice emphasises practical guidance for managing psychosocial hazards—this is not optional window dressing.
If control effectiveness isn’t monitored, the hazard returns. This is where boards should demand:
Safe Work Australia’s reporting and snapshots make clear that psychosocial hazards like bullying and work pressure are not theoretical—they show up in real claims and serious time loss.
Resilience is valuable. But resilience is the seatbelt, not the brakes. A psychologically safe organisation:
If you only sell resilience, you are effectively saying:
“We expect you to absorb the impact of our unmanaged hazards.”
That is not just ethically questionable; it is operationally foolish. In jurisdictions where psychosocial hazard management expectations are rising, this posture increases exposure.
Now a real life example—where organisations often get it wrong. You have:
If this is handled poorly, it can damage psychological safety for both workers:
Australia’s legal and guidance environment is clear that “reasonable adjustments” are often required to remove barriers, allowing employees with disability to participate and work safely and productively—so long as it does not create unjustifiable hardship. Fair Work guidance similarly describes reasonable adjustments as changes to work processes, tools, or work areas to reduce barriers. So what does good practice look like?
Handled well, this approach increases psychological safety for everyone:
Returning to that interview moment: dismissing onboarding, tools, and functional setup as “hardware” misses a critical hazard-control truth. If workers are not properly onboarded, they experience:
In safety-critical environments, this directly affects incident risk. In any environment, it affects confidence to speak up and integrate. The idea that psychological safety is only “soft skills” is outdated. Psychological safety is an organisational system:
If you’re presenting this to directors or executives, ask for evidence in four buckets.
If a board cannot answer these questions with evidence, psychological safety is likely being treated as branding, not risk management.
Safe Work Australia’s reporting makes the urgency hard to ignore: mental health condition serious claims involve long time away from work and high compensation relative to other claims. Sector-specific insights add another layer. Safe Work Australia’s 2024 psychological health reporting (including People at Work survey insights) highlights exposure to hazards such as high emotional demands, bullying, and occupational violence in certain industries and points to elevated claim patterns in sectors including public administration and safety. That matters because when you connect:
you get a board-level risk that cannot be wished away with good intentions.
They should stop:
And yes—organisations should retire the mindset that if someone raises a psychosocial concern, the correct response is to “pull up your big girl pants.” Because that is not leadership.
That is hazard denial.
If you want a simple line to anchor your message to executives, use this:
Psychological safety is the operational outcome of well-designed work, fair processes, and competent leadership under pressure.
Cupcakes can be nice.
But cupcakes do not control hazards. Systems do.
Psychological safety isn’t “soft.” It is:
If you don’t manage psychosocial hazards, you don’t just lose staff.
You lose:
That is why psychological safety can’t be fixed with cupcakes, posters, or good intentions. It can only be fixed by risk management discipline—applied to human behaviour with the same seriousness we apply to physical hazards.