Psychological safety has become the team buzzword of the decade, but the best leaders I advise don't treat it as mood lighting for meetings. They treat it as infrastructure: the scaffolding that lets difficult truths surface quickly so a team can learn faster than the problem evolves. Amy Edmondson's enduring definition—people believe they won't be punished or humiliated for speaking up with ideas, questions, concerns, or mistakes—remains the clearest statement of the goal (and the risk if leaders botch it).
The point isn't comfort; it's candour in service of performance. As the ancients said, trust binds a polity. In modern terms, trust binds a project team, because it allows candid conversations without fear of difficult conversations being career limiting.
What follows is a practical, evidence-based reframe of what psychological safety is (and isn't), how it behaves in hybrid work, where the boundary conditions sit, and how to build it without diluting standards.
What Psychological Safety Is—and What It Isn't
At its best, psychological safety makes experimentation possible and error-reporting normal, so the team can distinguish between intelligent failures (good bets that didn't work) and basic mistakes (avoidable errors) and respond accordingly. The work of Amy Edmondson popularises this distinction and reminds leaders to celebrate the first and prevent the second—a nuance many organisations miss when they adopt generic "fail fast" rhetoric.
That matters deeply for organisations that aspire to being high(er)-performing because the aim is not a perpetual safe space. It's a high-standards, high-camaraderie space where people voice concerns early, critique ideas directly, and still feel respected afterwards. In routine work, clarity and accountability must remain sharp. In ambiguous work, leaders must lower the interpersonal costs of raising a hand to say, "I don't know—yet."
Two practical tests I use with executives: