When I’m brought into organizations to talk about psychological safety, I don’t start with a definition.

I start with a story.

There’s a well-known aviation case involving a flight headed to Guam during a storm. The aircraft was experiencing instrument issues. The captain had flown the route countless times and felt confident everything was under control. The co-pilot, however, noticed that something wasn’t right. It wasn’t until a few seconds before impact that the co-pilot finally voiced concern.

The plane crashed just three miles short of the runway. That’s a concerning distance away from the target. But why didn’t the copilot speak up when he noticed something was wrong? Primarily because of the highly hierarchical culture of the cockpit that makes speaking up feel risky.

At first glance, the failure feels almost impossible to understand. How could something so preventable happen? How could someone see danger coming and still remain silent? But once you dig a little deeper, the situation becomes almost uncomfortably familiar. Many of us have lived some version of this story, just in conference rooms instead of cockpits.

You’ll Pay the Price Later

When people think about their careers, most can recall a moment when they saw a problem developing long before it became unavoidable. Maybe it was a decision that didn’t make sense, a strategy that was flawed from the start, or simply a project clearly heading toward failure.

But they stayed quiet.

Sometimes the explanation sounds reasonable; it felt outside their role, the decision had already been made, or challenging it didn’t seem worth the effort. Other times, the reason is more honest: they’d spoken up before and paid a price for it, or they believed their input wouldn’t really be considered.

What’s interesting is that silence can feel like self-protection in the moment. But in reality, it tends to create a psychological catch-twenty-two. When things eventually fall apart, it’s rarely the decision-makers who have to deal with the consequences. More often than not, it’s the people lower in the hierarchy, the same people who recognized the risk early on, who end up doing the work of repair.

When I ask employees of the organizations I work with what would make it easier to speak up, the answers are consistent. They talk about wanting leaders who listen, environments where past honesty hasn’t been punished, and reassurance that raising concerns won’t damage their reputation.

Underneath all of this is a pretty simple realization. People have seen how decisions play out, and they’ve noticed that the consequences don’t always fall where the decisions were made. Over time, saying what you really think can feel risky, and keeping your head down can feel easier.

This is where psychological safety actually lives. It’s not in engagement scores or mission statements, but in whether people believe speaking honestly will cost them something.

The Leadership Behaviours That Make the Difference

When you look at teams that feel genuinely safe, it’s rarely because of some big program or initiative. It usually comes down to how leaders handle a few very common situations.

One of those is what happens when something goes wrong. Leaders who go looking for fault tend to shut people down, even if that’s not what they intend. Leaders who stay curious — those who want to understand what led to the mistake — create a very different tone. People are much more likely to speak up again when they don’t feel like they’ll be blamed for being honest.

Another situation is how leaders relate to the work itself. Many leaders used to do the jobs they now oversee, but that doesn’t always mean they’re the closest to the details anymore. The people doing the work usually see problems and opportunities first. Leaders who make that clear and invite input regularly help create a sense that insight is welcome, not inconvenient.

Feedback is another revealing stage. Most leaders are used to giving feedback, not receiving it. When they ask for it, people often hold back, especially when there’s a power gap. In my experience, the one comment that comes at the end — the thing someone almost didn’t say or say in passing — is often the most important. How leaders respond to that tells people whether honesty is actually safe.

A lot of this comes down to language. The words leaders use in everyday moments, especially when something feels tense, send strong signals about whether it’s actually safe to speak up. 

In practice, this often shows up in very small word changes:

• When a concern is raised, “We’ve already decided on this” tends to close the door, while “Help me understand what you’re seeing that I might be missing” keeps the conversation open without undoing the decision.

• When something goes wrong, “How did this happen?” is often interpreted as blame, whereas “Can you walk me through how this unfolded so I can understand better?” opens up an opportunity for curiosity and learning.

• When a leader disagrees, “I don’t agree with that” can end the discussion, while “Say more about how you got there” leaves room, even if the final call doesn’t change.

Language is powerful for creating safety. A slight shift in tone or phrasing like the above could be the difference between someone sharing their perspective or deciding it’s better to say nothing at all.

When Psychological Safety Has Been Damaged

When psychological safety has been damaged, it’s usually because something has been left unaddressed for too long, or because one moment landed harder than intended. Repair normally begins with leaders being willing to acknowledge their part in that. 

What rebuilds safety over time is consistency. When people see leaders respond differently, invite accountability, and follow through on what they’ve said, trust starts to return. Psychological safety comes back not through a single conversation, but through what people experience day after day. The tricky part is that even when teams are trying to rebuild it, people often expect the wrong thing from it. 

That’s all to say that psychological safety gets misunderstood… a lot. It doesn’t mean everyone feels comfortable all the time. In fact, safe teams often feel uncomfortable more often, because people are willing to challenge ideas, disagree, and say things that are hard to say.

There’s an important difference between feeling unsafe and feeling uncomfortable. When people genuinely don’t feel safe, they usually stay silent. If someone is naming something that feels off, that often means there’s actually enough safety to speak. Psychological safety doesn’t eliminate discomfort, it gives teams a way to work through it instead of avoiding it.

The Risk Is What Never Gets Said

If we return to the story that opened this piece, the plane didn’t crash because the co-pilot lacked skill or awareness. It crashed because he didn’t believe his voice would be welcomed in time.

The same dynamic shows up in workplaces every day, just with different consequences. Leaders need to remember the most important things often aren’t what people are saying out loud, but what they’ve learned not to say.

That silence is where the real risk lives.