The Obedience Team

Every toxic leader has one.

A small, tight group of loyalists. The ones who step up not to lead, but to enforce. To spin the narrative. To smooth over the discomfort of others’ pain so no one has to confront what’s actually happening.

We don’t call it that out loud, of course. We call it “The Leadership Team.”

But let’s be honest. That’s not what they’re doing.

They are The Obedience Team.

And I saw them in full force during our recent “Culture and Climate” meeting — the only truly anonymous staff survey our building receives all year. The one chance people have to say, without fear of retaliation, what leadership really feels like.

But who was leading the debrief?
Not HR.
Not neutral facilitators.
Not even the union.

No — they chose The Obedience Team.

They framed the session as a chance for “open and honest dialogue.” Chairs in a circle. A call for vulnerability.
But here’s what actually happened:

• Every uncomfortable silence was filled by someone rushing to defend leadership.

• Critical comments were waved away as “disgruntled staff who can’t handle change.”

• Honest reflection was replaced with spin.

And suddenly, we weren’t talking about the Culture or the Climate.
We were talking about how great the principal is.
We were talking about how it used to be worse.
We were talking about everything except the harm.

I sat there stunned. And heartbroken.

Because this is what gaslighting at scale looks like.

Let me be clear:

I don’t expect everyone to speak out. People have rent. Mortgages. Tenure to secure. Kids. Health insurance.
And I get that in toxic systems, self-preservation becomes the name of the game.

But what broke me that day wasn’t just the silence.
It was the voluntary spin. The people who chose to discredit the voices of others to protect their own seat at the table.
The ones who know better — and still say nothing.
Or worse: the ones who know better and actively help leadership bury the story.

Because here’s the thing:
The true function of toxic leadership is not just to dominate.
It’s to redirect the heat — onto each other.

When you create fear and confusion and favoritism, people stop looking at the source of the problem.
They start blaming the people who are struggling.
They start mocking the ones who speak up.
They start thinking: If I just do everything right, I won’t be next.

And so the obedience spreads.

But I’m not here to obey.
And I’m not here to pretend the climate is getting better just because the Obedience Team handed out matching talking points.

I’m here to say what so many others feel but can’t always say out loud:

This is not leadership.
This is not safety.
This is not culture.

This is control.

And no amount of circular seating or “norms of care” will change that.

You can’t fix culture until you face it.

You can’t build trust on top of silencing.
You can’t name “belonging” as a goal while punishing people for honesty.

And you cannot ask for open dialogue while positioning those who dare speak the truth as the problem.

This is not bitterness. This is accountability.
This is the end of gaslighting, the end of spin, the end of obedient silence.

This is what happens when you take the matches out of someone’s hands — and they learn to be the light themselves.