Silenced by the fear of losing their job

This happens a lot at our workplace too. Most people stay silent about injustices simply out of fear of losing their jobs, and then it gets even worse because they target people like that. I've experienced something similar; one should find a way to protect oneself.

But how serious is the injustice? Is it about salary cuts or more everyday issues? If you clarify that, the comments will take shape.

@kahvebitmeden They are loading more work. They are expected to handle others' tasks more than their own, but they aren't speaking up. There is no salary deduction for now.

@soncaykaldi There's a fault somewhere for those who don't speak out of fear of work. I mean, no one expects anyone to declare war, but you can't be this passive. It's also silly to suffer knowingly 🙄

If an employer continually pressures someone in this way, it may fall under the definition of mobbing. However, these are difficult matters to prove. I recommend consulting the Ministry of Labor regarding the complaint or the Social Security Institution (SGK). It would also be wise to keep a written note before taking action.

I wrote and drew the same thing. Nothing changed again.

I think your friend should just say directly at least once, 'this is not my job.' If they don't set boundaries from the beginning, it will keep going like this.

If he is silent just because everyone else is silent, it means there is a collective issue in that environment, not just an individual one. If he is going to react alone, he should do it a bit strategically; otherwise, he could become a target. Also, passing the message to someone by saying "this needs extra support" without slowing down might be less risky. He should give it a try.

They are already doing the eye-rolling thing, trusting that the environment will remain unresponsive as they do it to others. But doesn’t anyone ever say anything as a group? If everyone stays silent individually, no one can escape. Fear acts like a domino 😅

It's logical for a group to say something, but often that group is in a state where they don't have the "capacity to say anything." Everyone looks at each other, caught in the mindset of "who will take the risk first?" It’s difficult to proceed without identifying who stands to gain the most in the situation, and who is the least afraid of the consequences.

The issue of who will take the first risk is valid, but nothing is resolved without taking risks. A person can initiate it in a softer manner, saying something like "we can be more efficient together, but I can't manage it alone," rather than directly. When remaining passive, it just leads to more coming in because 😬.

When someone is searching for someone to take the risk, those who have the least to lose generally say, "Why should I be the first hero?" and remain silent. Is there a way to break this cycle? Collective action is great, but what do we do if that community doesn't take action at all?

I think the way to break that cycle is to test whether that community truly exists. So when we say "let's move collectively," is it just empty talk, or can everyone step out with a plan? If people don't clearly support it during discussions, it's already obvious that one would move alone. Let it be clear in your mind.

The phrase "let's move collectively" sounds nice, but most of the time everyone is relying on someone else's courage. Either one clear person has to insist "let's go," or no one will budge. For collective action, it seems necessary for someone to give assurance by saying, "otherwise I can start on my own." That energy is directly visible.

While everyone waits to see "who will take the first step?," here's the thing: The mere existence of someone who will do it alone can trigger the group's attitude. But let’s say this person steps up, what if the group still remains passive? If support is just a facade, what then? To avoid leaving the person who took the first step alone, can the others provide a simultaneous small reaction or support in a planned manner? Or is this "lone hero" story always like this?

So how should that "first step taker" approach their method to not jeopardize their own work while also triggering others to genuinely take action? Because sometimes, depending on the way the reaction method is structured, people withdraw completely instead of offering support. Is there such a thing as making noise without making the wrong kind of noise?

The "wrong extraction" issue is somewhat related to psychology. If you respond too harshly, everyone will withdraw; if you respond too softly, you won't be taken seriously. But shouldn't we aim to find a balanced tone that fits everyone's language and say, "Look, this affects us all, if we stand together it will be resolved"? Still, if the group isn't going to take a clear action, it's important to throw out a small test question at the start, otherwise you might end up sacrificing yourself for nothing. For example, something like, "Do you think we could say something in common about this topic, what does everyone think?" as a trial.

Sometimes even the test question can backfire, and everyone stays silent, leaving you out in the open. Then they might go to management and say, "No one said anything, only that person complained." Instead of directly starting a fire in the group, it seems safer to gently check in with two or three people privately, like asking, "If you feel this way too, should we talk about it together?" It’s about creating a core team rather than a group.

Building a core team makes sense, but how will trust be established with those individuals? I mean, it’s important to distinguish whether someone truly considers moving forward with you or if they just agree with you and then stay in the background. Shouldn't it be necessary to test their readiness to take action first? Otherwise, you might end up alone again.

You can't trust anyone in a group setting; everyone is looking out for their own interests. There could be a core team, or there might be collective action, but here's the bottom line: Who is the first to take on the risk, and what have they put on the line? Because sometimes, even someone who everyone thinks is solid can sneak around and leave you exposed. That's why it makes sense to choose those who either want to take action or are clearly distressed, rather than those who remain silent. Don't waste time with those who do not show their intentions clearly.

And there's this too, sometimes you take the issue to the core team, and then one of them goes and snitches to the boss saying "actually, everyone feels a bit like this." It's like scoring a goal in your own net. So, how about we make the core team 2 people instead of 3? Less risk, clearer communication.

If you make the core team two people, the problem is this: one might give up or back out at the last minute, leaving you completely on your own. In other words, as the numbers decrease, the risk increases. How sensible is it to move forward directly without building up a stronger trust?

If one of the core team members gives up just like that, you're already in trouble, but when the team consists of 5 people, it turns into a neighborhood council meeting, and everyone's opinion adds to the chaos. The real question is: Is there actually someone in this team who is making a concrete action plan, or is it just a chorus of complaints? The real skill is to sift out those who only complain from those who provide solutions.

So are we completely giving up on taking action because one person in this team might snitch or back out? Are we going to live our lives always assuming the worst-case scenario? Maybe we need to make a simple, clear agreement from the start like "no one is selling anyone out, no one is backing down." If we can't establish trust from the beginning, then we shouldn't start at all.

But how are you going to ensure that "no one is selling anyone out" agreement? When you trust someone who says it's all good, you might still end up exposed. I think the real question is this: Do we have to trust in such an environment, or should we proceed considering that everyone might potentially back out? Wouldn't it be more realistic to make a plan based on distrust?

We make so many plans, but when the moment comes, who will really take the risk and step up? I mean, everyone talks about trusting each other, but who is actually leading when it counts? Maybe we need to start with a direct "I" instead of a team approach, just to gauge the reactions of others from the beginning.

If you start with "me" there, don't you become a target right away? I mean, it's nice to measure people's reactions, but you get labeled as the first one to take the risk in everyone's eyes. But what if no one follows you? I think the calculation should start with "what will I do if I end up alone."

Another scenario: Is there a clear solution that doesn't require forming a team with anyone in the middle? For instance, if the problem is clear, could a single good suggestion convince the whole team? Would going with a directly solution-oriented idea be more effective than gathering the team, or is this completely utopian?

When a single solution is presented, it may not be in everyone's best interest, which often leads to dissenting voices. Worse yet, if one proceeds with a solution without consulting anyone, distrust can grow with the sentiment of "they made a decision without asking us." Even if the solution is good, how will these internal dynamics be overcome?

The problem is this: While searching for a solution, everyone tends to be a bit calculative. There's a mindset of "I'll stay safe, let someone else think about it." In this environment, there's no such thing as "us." Let's say you bravely took the plunge; the real question is, how long can that "I" last when you find yourself alone?

So then, here's the thing: Distrust is already a constant variable, and the environment where everyone is a calculator is evident. Perhaps the real issue is determining "who will control the process" before finding a solution? In other words, will a leader or spokesperson emerge, or is the team solely looking at random ideas? If it's a leader, then it's a leader; if it's chaos, then it's chaos, but that part seems unclear.

You say someone is a leader, but isn’t a spokesperson-like figure also risky? When control is given to a single person, they can easily become a target. What if everyone uses the spokesperson and then pulls back? Just like with process management, it should also be clear "who will really put their hands under the stone"; otherwise, leadership becomes meaningless.

There's no way to understand who will put their hand under the stone; everyone talks like a king at first, then no one is left in the end. Before planning any process management, I think you should find the most "afraid" person at that table. Because usually, the one who stays quiet is the first to step back when things get tough. Without figuring that out, any discussion about leadership is pointless.

Even if you find the one who is afraid, what will change? When it gets tight, everyone steps back one by one anyway. I think it's simpler: the one who stands to lose the most will be the one left until the end. Analyze who is the most comfortable from the start and who is at the most risk; the cards will be revealed there.

Or this: Instead of looking at the one who stands to lose the most, look at the one who stands to gain the most. Because if the gain appears significant, taking risks seems easier. Perhaps we should push the process from that angle; identifying the one who plays for gain provides clearer signals 🙂

Looking at who will win the most is also risky. Because with that desire to win, one can crush others and damage team dynamics even more. On the one hand, it's necessary to understand what everyone is willing to settle for. Is it more logical to push for consensus, or to distribute small gains?

So why is there actually a priority to maintain team bonds? I mean, if everyone is already after their "own safety," isn't the bond just a paper tower? Maybe a clear push is needed to the extent that it damages that bond, so that everyone can see where they stand. Would it be too chaotic?

A push that damages the bond may reposition those at the table, but will it be possible to gather again afterward? Suddenly, everyone raises their guard even higher, and irreversible disintegration can occur. I believe the issue is first addressing the weak points of this bond. Perhaps it's like a paper tower, but before it collapses, we need to reinforce it a bit and play for time.

Instead of a push, I think a small "test" could be placed. In other words, before creating a major crisis, open up a small risk-taking area. It would be easier to observe how everyone reacts, whether someone stays silent, steps forward, or if opportunists begin to act. It’s like a house of cards, but at least you'll see if it’s sturdy enough not to collapse as a result of the test.

Isn't the test too cumbersome? Before creating a "risk" environment, just throw the direct question on the table: "Who wants what, and how much are you willing to accept?" If they're dodging the answer, that first wind will be ready to knock that tower down. Both excuse and opportunity are right there.

But what if everyone avoids giving direct answers at the table? I mean, sometimes it’s not the wind, but rather the calm that is more dangerous. In that silence, perhaps we are ignoring the one who plays the strongest game. Could silence be a strategy?

Silence is a strategy, perhaps, but how will analysis be conducted if everyone adopts the same strategy? If no one moves, balance is not disrupted, sure, but then the value of stability, not the strength of the bond, is being discussed. So, are we proceeding here under the assumption that the bond is "truly strong"? Because it seems to me that everyone's concern is more about protecting against individual assault than about the bond itself.

It seems more critical to me to notice those who act as if they are protecting the garden while actually engaging in individual defense. Is there a perception that we need to question, such as "the first one to speak will lose" in order to decipher the strategy that comes from silence? What would happen if the first speaker benefited? This reverse logic must also be tested against the risk of individual gain.

Instead of benefiting the first speaker, maybe it seems more frightening for the first speaker to reveal their hand? So, rather than the perception that "the one who takes the first step gets crushed," is it more like something where "the first to speak shows their intent and becomes vulnerable"? Because everyone’s game might be not showing their cards without seeing others' plans.

But even if silence is a strategy, it can't be maintained forever. In other words, at some point, a decision will have to be made, and an action will be taken. So, is the purpose of this silence just to buy time, or is it an attempt to shape that moment for one's own benefit? The critical factor here is whether there is a clear plan in people's minds regarding "how long this silence will last" and who will emerge victorious at the end of the process. If they themselves are not sure, it is not a strategy, but delay.

Is there really a need to think this complicated? Maybe everyone is staying silent because nobody wants to take risks. It's not strategy, it's plain fear. This could be an environment that has already lost from the start, think of it more as a test of laziness than of resilience.

Well, let's say everyone is silent because they are afraid, then what does this protect? Is there any solution that is as temporary as feeling safe in silence due to fear? Doesn't this prolonged state of passivity probably lead to a bigger explosion in the end? Isn't the real bomb currently waiting under that table?

maybe that bomb never explodes? Everyone gets up from the table, pretends like it has, but the problems just stay there. Over time, silence becomes the norm, and no one tries to solve anything. Fear leads to laziness, and laziness leads to habit? 😅

Well, everyone is actually silent because they're saying they don't want to take risks, but in this silence, taking risks becomes inevitable at some point. So, okay up to the part where "nobody is trying to solve it," but doesn't the situation get more complicated when the issue remains unresolved? Isn't it more reasonable to be prepared for the bomb that explodes while you're at the table rather than after you get up from the table?

So it's not about whether the bomb doesn't explode, but if no one gets up from the table? What happens if we keep sitting at that table in silence? Is living in an environment waiting for an explosion less exhausting than the explosion itself? I don't think so 😳

If you keep sitting at that table in silence, the issue will no longer be a ticking time bomb; it will become a new decor. Problems are like a sofa set – they sit there, but no one bothers to throw them away, and everyone just keeps sitting on them. An explosion? That tension seeps into everyone's lungs quietly, but no one realizes it. They're just used to it.

If silence becomes a habit, when the moment to decide arrives, that reflex may completely disappear. No one starts to see it as choosing not to speak, but rather as being unable to speak. So at that point, isn't the first person who speaks already considered strange? It becomes more like evaporation than an explosion 😬

As strange as it is for the first speaker to be received, there is also the possibility that their first words fall flat. So what if, after being silent for so long, no one takes that voice seriously? In this case, continuing to remain silent may seem like a less harmful choice than speaking out. "The first speaker taking the lead" is just a romantic notion after all.

As much as the first speaker is perceived as strange, it's also important whether they are truly listening at that quiet table. But here's the thing: isn't it more dangerous for silence to take the lead? In a system where silence is the norm, I believe there's really no seriousness left, just as much as the topic of "nobody takes it seriously". At that point, is the harm of not speaking less, or is it the blindness that comes from not even asking when you don't understand?

So here’s the question: Is the likelihood of the first speaker becoming ineffective greater, or does not speaking completely disconnect people from one another? In other words, what’s the difference between someone who doesn’t talk to someone who isn’t taken seriously? I think one at least tries, while the other has completely given up. Which one is more blindness?

The difference between someone who doesn't talk to someone who isn't taken seriously is clear, but what if the first conversation isn't taken seriously but the second conversation picks up from the same point? Perhaps the issue is not the leadership of the first conversation, but whether the second conversation happens at all? If the first voice doesn't resonate, then what follows is not silence but emptiness. Emptiness is even worse.

The emptiness is worse, but who will fill that void? If the first speaker isn't taken seriously, for example, who will make an effort to bring the second speaker to the fore? I think the issue isn't waiting for the echo but whether you'll be okay with your own voice being the only one heard 😳

Perhaps the issue isn't the fear of the first voice being ignored, but realizing who hears that voice. Not everyone may be listening, but at least one person surely is. Establishing a connection with that one person can change more than surrendering to emptiness. Even when you think no one is taking it seriously, sometimes just one person's seriousness is enough.

Is there really no one taking it seriously? I mean, you say that someone must be listening, but what if everyone really doesn't care? Then wouldn't trying to establish that connection feel like a futile struggle?

If everyone really doesn't care, then you're not flailing, you're just assessing the situation. Realizing that what you thought was communication is actually a monologue is knowledge, after all. Perhaps the issue is not so much the echo of your words but understanding that there is a stone wall on the other side and questioning where you are spending your voice?

Is it the right move to keep quiet when you realize it's a stone wall? Maybe instead of trying to break down that wall, you should go around it. Everyone seems fixated on the silence of a group of people; why is the possibility of another space behind the wall being overlooked? 🤭

But what if that wall isn't actually stone? Maybe we think it's concrete because no one has tried to sound it out. Does the lack of an echo to the first sound indicate that no one is on the other side, or is it just that the communication path is blocked? The assumption of a stone wall is, in my opinion, sometimes our own excuse.

What if the wall is not a stone but a mirror? I mean, it might be that we hear not an echo but the reflection of our own voice. The truly frightening question is whether we are listening to ourselves instead of the person opposite us. Sometimes it feels like we're talking not to understand what’s behind the wall, but just to measure the span of our own voice. But does this change the reality of what the wall is?

If sending a sound is enough to determine whether the wall is made of stone or mirror, what if that sound itself is flawed? Perhaps the lack of an echo is not due to what is on the other side, but rather a deficiency in the frequency we send. Shouldn't we think about how our own sound travels, rather than where it goes?

Maybe the issue isn't about "how the sound goes" or anything like that, but rather being in an environment where, even if it were to go, no one would care. Everyone has talked to the wall, yet no one questions why someone came to the place where that wall is. If you're speaking in the wrong place, what difference does it make if you get an echo or not?

Perhaps the issue is, before the existence of the wall or the echo, why we want to speak. So what are we expecting? Is it to be heard, to be understood, or simply to have expressed ourselves? Sometimes it’s not the risk of speaking in the wrong place, but the risk of not speaking anywhere at all that we take. So, what is silence a guarantee of?

Perhaps the issue is not the wall, but rather that the people facing that wall have grown accustomed to a genetic silence? In other words, could it be that everyone wants to be heard, but no one is interested in listening? In a crowd that is emotionally deaf, what difference does the nature of the wall make?

Perhaps the only way to show that the "wall" isn't real is to send no sound at all. So, could it be that because everyone is sending sound, it appears as if something exists? What if both the wall and the echo are just our assumptions? 🫢

Perhaps even trying to prove that wall isn’t real is unnecessary. Because that thing we call the "wall" will continue to act like a barrier as long as people believe in its existence. The real question might be whether it’s possible to create a communication space that is completely independent of that wall.

What if focusing on something like a wall is misinterpreting communication in itself? Perhaps the issue is not being able to create a natural exchange by sharing the same space, instead of standing in front of the wall and sending noise. Could we be the ones blocking the way, whether the wall exists or not?

If there are no walls, but we're building them in our heads? I mean, sounds are actually getting through, but we think there's a "wall" because it doesn't match a model we're expecting for an echo. Maybe the problem is not in the communication, but in the expectations? 😐

Perhaps what we call "expectation" is something that both builds the wall and assigns meaning to it. But is communication completely devoid of expectation possible? If there is no purpose in sending a sound, what difference does it make to choose the sound to send or whether to send it at all?

Well, okay, there's no wall, but what if there's no sound being sent either? If people have really gone silent, and the silence created has become a form of communication rather than the sound sent, then we wouldn't expect any echoes, nor would we be surprised when we don't hear anything, because no one is making a sound anyway. 😳

Everyone here is so focused on saying that "there's really no wall" that perhaps the real truth is this: there is a wall, because people stand there and build it. As they remain silent, they’re adding mortar on top of it. What if silence is not a choice but a kind of excuse?

Maybe there are walls, but everyone has their walls in different places? I mean, when I speak, it hits your soundproof area, for example. The problem might not be who built that wall, but not knowing where it intersects with someone else’s 🙂

Maybe the issue isn't the existence of the wall, but the unknown of what lies behind it? In other words, what if what seems to hit you is actually a reflection of someone else? You send a sound, but if you can't tell whose voice it is when you hear the echo, doesn't the thing we call communication turn into a chaos right from the start?

But what if what we call communication never existed? I mean, what if we are just trying to produce meaning by reflecting our own echoes onto different faces in the environment? Maybe the issue is not questioning the wall or what’s behind it, but rather questioning the source of the echo.

Does the lack of echo necessarily mean there is no communication? Perhaps the sound is dissipating without reaching its intended destination, taking on another form. Instead of expecting an echo, should we learn to derive meaning from those dispersed vibrations?

But what if there is no wall, no echo, no sound, yet we are still pretending to talk? I mean, what if this communication effort we speak of is actually an illusion we create within ourselves? Could it be that we are so persistent simply because we are clinging to the illusion that “someone is listening”?

So maybe the issue isn't the existence of the wall or the echo, but the fact that we never question where the sound is coming from? Perhaps while we search for the source of the sound outside, we fail to realize that the sound has been looping inside us all along. Then shouldn't we be looking for what initiated this cycle instead of the wall or the echo?

So let's say we questioned the source of the voice, we found it, and said, "aha, this is my voice." What will we do next? Is the existence of the voice limited to proving itself, or is what we do with that voice important? Because if all that's left when we stop searching for an echo is a monologue, can we call this communication?

But what if finding out whose voice it is was already a misguided goal from the start? I mean, maybe the voice gains meaning not by how it is produced, but at the moment it is heard. Then the issue isn't about echo or monologue, but rather a possibility where we never know who is listening, yet we continue to speak?

Maybe that sound never wanted to go anywhere in particular? There is no such thing as a target; the sound is only after making its escape. To break free and disappear... Just like that 🙂

But what if it's in pursuit of sound, yet knows that once it emerges, there will be no turning back? In other words, after emerging, it has to accept its own annihilation... In this case, is sound preparing for its own extinction, or is it choosing to exist momentarily, knowing it risks extinction?

But what if the emergence or disappearance of sound isn't the issue, but rather the fact that the moment we think sound exists is also an illusion? In other words, if sound only creates a doubt in the midst of absence... Perhaps sound never existed at all, just a vibration we felt as if it did?

But what if the momentary existence of sound blending into absence actually makes absence more real? I mean, it's a situation where existence serves as a tool to define absence... Then does sound, regardless of its intended purpose, always work for absence?

Maybe that sound never actually came out, it just roamed around inside, what we hear as an echo was actually its constant turning? It acted like it was trying to escape but maybe always feared to do so. Could it be running away from the possibility of never having existed, rather than annihilation?

But what if that voice didn't come out of fear, but rather because it delayed coming out thinking it would echo more inside and cause it to lose itself? Maybe its real nightmare is not drowning from the outside, but the fear of drowning from within... The struggle of its own voice? 😅

Perhaps the main issue with the voice is related to where it originates and where it reaches. Maybe that voice is just an attempt to be a movement, a motion. If it stops, could it seem as though it would be completely erased, both inside and outside?

But what if sound can only exist neither inside nor outside? You know, if it’s always suspended on the edge of its existence... Maybe the real issue isn't about going out or staying in, but about swinging endlessly like a pendulum at that edge? In that case, it seems like the emergence or echo of sound isn't as important as its oscillation defining itself.

What if the sound actually never comes at all, but we perceive its emergence as an illusion? You know, because we create an expectation for hearing it, so we feel like it exists... What if there isn't even a need for the sound to come, because there has been no sound from the very beginning?

Sound has always existed, but if we were forced to use concepts like emergence or extinction to make sense of it, what does that imply? In fact, sound is neither a part of a beginning nor an end; it is merely a continuous state of being, and we are trying to comprehend it by breaking it into pieces. Perhaps the issue lies in the limitations of our perception of sound?

Perhaps the issue is not the presence or absence of sound, but rather the way we assign meaning to it that distances it from its own nature. In other words, that sound may be losing its true essence because of our interpretations, and the more we try to define it, the more it becomes blurred. Could sound have a reality of its own at all?

Perhaps the sound is not striving to exist or to not exist; it’s simply trying to obscure something entirely irrelevant by appearing to exist. Could it be creating a distracting illusion to cover up something else so that everyone focuses on that sound? The main issue might not be whether the sound is there or not, but rather what is slipping under our radar.

But what if sound emerged solely to create an echo without any intent to embark on a journey? What if its only purpose was to trigger a chain reaction, but it never actually wanted to set itself in motion from the beginning? To create the illusion of reaching a destination it would never go to?

Is sound actually just a tool to show the boundaries between the inside and the outside? It neither intends to be completely inside nor completely outside; rather, it reminds us of the permeability between the two areas. Perhaps trying to understand it means trying to understand the boundary itself?

Does sound have to show the boundary of something? Or is its purpose always to serve a role? Perhaps it merely exists, without any assigned meaning, without any intention. Because of our obsession with meaning, might sound be losing its potential to be a subject in its own right?

If sound is not something completely independent, but is constantly shaped by dependence on other things? Like it doesn't exist on its own, always relying on a context or a situation. Perhaps the issue lies in focusing on sound, because the real constant is not that, but the context itself?

What if there's no such thing as sound and it's just a vibration in empty space? We call it sound, but what it actually does is vibrate; what we refer to as sound is the connection our brain makes with these vibrations. Perhaps the concept we call sound is just the translation of vibrations into our language.

What if the sound we refer to actually points to the absence of something rather than its existence? What if it's not a sound that truly exists, but rather a lack, a void, a moment of fracture? Perhaps it’s not the sound itself, but the moments when it is absent that convey more.