To be fair, I had never truly experienced the dark undercurrent of a toxic workplace until relocating to Gippsland, Victoria. After years as a CEO and running my own consultancy, I decided to take some time out and return to the coalface, securing a role in suicide prevention. I was genuinely excited, believing I had the skills and experience to make a difference. What I quickly discovered was an environment where ideas were not welcomed but dismissed. Every suggestion was met with a blunt “no”, often followed by the patronising line: “we have people who are paid to do that.” The irony was that those people never did.

The leadership team, far from being supportive, often lacked qualifications, professional standards, and basic respect. I was fortunate though to have a young very capable team leader who was both extremely competent and who cared about her team of 7. 

I witnessed managers gossiping about staff and clients in ways that were not only unprofessional but deeply inappropriate. What struck me most was how the workplace seemed to isolate talented staff while rewarding mediocrity. Those who tried hard, who cared, were sidelined. Those who underperformed were shielded, even elevated.

As happens all too often, the capable people began leaving in droves. The organisation bled talent, leaving it weaker by the day. Complaints were raised, HR was notified, but responses were minimal sometimes non-existent. And for those of us who did speak up, the cost was high. We were quickly targeted, marginalised, and made to feel like the problem rather than the solution.

The hard truth is this: not every toxic workplace can be fixed. Some are too entrenched in their dysfunction, too comfortable in their patterns of denial and blame. The lesson I walked away with was simple yet powerful: if your values and skills are being crushed, take them elsewhere. Life is too short, and your contribution too valuable, to waste in an environment that thrives on toxicity rather than growth.