The Silent Toll of Witnessing Bad Behavior at Work

Last week, I shared an article about the impact of organizational culture, and someone commented that as a vendor, just observing some cultures is exhausting. The exact statement: “Witnessing can wear me out!”

The raw truth of that statement stopped me in my tracks.

As outside partners—consultants, coaches, facilitators, fractional leaders—we often step into organizations with fresh eyes and open hearts. And what we see, hear, and feel tells us everything about the culture.

Even when we’re not employees, even when we’re not directly involved in the conflict, we can feel the weight of the dysfunction. The tension in the room. The language that goes unchallenged. The power dynamics playing out in silence. Culture doesn’t need to be explained—it’s felt.

And if we, as outsiders, feel drained after a few hours or days inside that culture, imagine what it’s like for the people who live in it every day.

That’s what struck me most. The emotional toll we feel in brief, contained exposures is a fraction of the chronic strain that insiders may be silently carrying. Our fatigue offers a window into their daily reality.

My response to the comment was simple: “Don’t underestimate the trauma of being a witness.”

This article is a follow-up to that conversation—because what we observe as visitors often reflects the deeper emotional labor that employees endure in silence.

You Don’t Have to Be the Target to Be Impacted

We often think of trauma as something that happens to us. But trauma can also come from what we see, what we hear, and what we’re powerless to change—especially when something feels deeply wrong, and we have no authority to stop it.

Just witnessing bad behavior in the workplace can take a psychological toll. Here’s why:

1. Moral Injury

When we see behavior that violates our values—disrespect, dishonesty, exclusion, manipulation—it creates inner conflict, especially if we’re unable to intervene. That gap between what we believe in and what we’re witnessing creates dissonance and can quietly erode our sense of integrity. Over time, this dissonance weighs us down and disconnects us from our purpose.

2. Perceived Complicity

When we don’t speak up—whether to protect our role, because it isn’t our place, or out of fear—we may still carry guilt or shame. We might question our own courage or feel like we’ve betrayed ourselves or others. That silence can feel like a form of self-abandonment, and it can haunt even the most justified decisions to stay quiet.

3. Vicarious Trauma

Like secondhand smoke, secondhand trauma is real. We don’t have to be the direct target to absorb the emotional weight of what’s happening around us. Watching someone be humiliated, dismissed, or gaslit can activate the same nervous system responses we’d experience if we were the ones being harmed. For those of us who are highly empathetic—or who have our own trauma histories—this effect is even more pronounced.

4. Anticipatory Stress & Anxiety

When dysfunction becomes predictable, we begin to brace for it. Even before the meeting starts, the calendar alert can send our bodies into fight, flight, or freeze. Our muscles tense. Our thoughts spiral. We may rehearse responses or mentally prepare for harm that hasn’t even happened yet. That level of chronic hypervigilance takes a serious toll on our well-being.

5. Betrayal of Expectations

When harmful behavior comes from leadership, it hits harder. Leaders are supposed to protect and support us. When they instead cause or permit harm, it feels like betrayal. That breach of trust can shake our faith—not just in people, but in systems, institutions, and our sense of safety at work. It leaves us questioning what’s real and who can be trusted.

6. Energetic Contagion

Energy doesn’t lie. Some rooms feel heavy the moment we walk in—not because of what’s said, but because of what’s present: unresolved conflict, fear, or emotional tension. We may leave feeling depleted, even if we barely spoke. That’s because emotional labor isn’t about what we say—it’s about what we manage, suppress, or absorb in order to maintain composure in difficult environments.

7. Echoes of Personal History

Workplaces don’t exist in isolation. A tense meeting might unconsciously remind us of a childhood dynamic, a harmful former workplace, or an identity-based harm we’ve endured. The brain and body often react not to what is, but to what feels like what we’ve experienced before. Trauma doesn’t know time. It only knows threat.

8. Systemic Powerlessness

Perhaps the most devastating kind of harm to witness is the kind that’s normalized. When bad behavior is systemic—and accountability is nonexistent—we begin to internalize a sense of helplessness. We stop raising concerns. We stop believing change is possible. And that resignation can lead to disengagement, cynicism, and ultimately, burnout.

So What Do We Do With This?

You don’t have to be the direct target to be impacted. Sometimes, just witnessing dysfunction—especially when we feel powerless to change it—is enough to leave a lasting mark.

Moral injury. Vicarious trauma. Guilt. Energy depletion. The reasons vary, but the impact is real.

First, let’s name it: witnessing dysfunction is emotional labor. It’s real. And it matters.

We often train leaders on how to respond when someone is harmed—but we rarely support the others in the room. The ones who saw it happen. The ones holding their breath. The ones carrying the tension afterward.

If you’ve ever walked out of a meeting needing to take a lap, vent to a colleague, or sit in silence to recover—you’re not “too sensitive.”

You’re responding to something that felt unsafe. Disturbing. Misaligned. And you're human.

Let’s stop pretending that only the person in the line of fire gets burned.

Here’s How We Can Start to Lead Differently:

• Normalize debriefing emotionally charged meetings—even for observers.

We don’t have to pretend it didn’t happen. Debriefs can help release tension, process reactions, and validate that what was witnessed mattered. Sometimes just naming the discomfort opens space for healing.

• Build psychological safety into the room—don’t wait until harm occurs.

Proactively establishing norms for respect, listening, and accountability helps prevent harm before it starts. It creates a container where people feel safe not only to speak up, but to be fully present.

• Acknowledge the cost of silence, and create safer ways for us to speak.

Provide anonymous feedback channels. Invite quiet voices. Recognize that silence can be protective—and still create space for expression when the time is right. It’s not just about who talks—it’s about who feels heard.

• Model integrity, even in small ways. Our example makes a difference.

Others are always watching. When we call out subtle disrespect, speak up for others, or acknowledge when something feels off, we give silent observers a powerful signal: you are not alone. You matter. This isn’t normal.

• Hold leaders accountable—not just for what they do, but for what they allow.

A culture of accountability means naming what gets ignored. Passive harm is still harm. Leaders must own the energy of the room—not just their actions, but their inaction. What we tolerate becomes the culture.

Final Thought

We often say, “That meeting was a mess,” and move on. But what if we paused to ask:

What made it feel unsafe? What wasn’t said? Who didn’t speak? And what did we all carry with us afterward?

Because witnessing harm is not harmless. Even when we don’t talk about it—it leaves a mark.

Let’s stop carrying it in silence. Let’s lead differently.