Normalised Nonsense

Picture this.

You’ve had three coffees and one glass of water. You’re now 20 minutes into your third meeting of the day — one that should’ve been an email, but you’re doing your best to look alert and engaged.

You need the toilet.

Really need the toilet.

You’re also tired. And you’re bored. Everyone looks fairly engaged. Are they engaged though? I mean, you’re not but you look like you are, right? Or do you? No more questions. Focus. Be a professional. Suffer.

We’ve normalised a kind of workplace nonsense that, when you stop to think about it, well… It doesn’t make sense.

I mean…

Not having time to eat? Feeling guilty for needing a break? Working through lunch? Apologising for being ill? Nodding along in meetings that are actively making us worse at our jobs? Forgetting what sunlight looks like between October and March?

It’s not just a little silly. It’s anti-human.

We celebrate the colleague who answers emails at midnight. We admire the manager who “powers through” their migraine. We design open-plan offices and then hand out noise-cancelling headphones.

It’s not malicious. Most of it started with good intentions.

But intention doesn’t always equal impact.

When the systems we build are silently draining the people we rely on, something’s gone wrong. And fixing it isn’t about telling people to “try yoga” or “drink more water.”

It’s about seeing the nonsense for what it is — and gently, clearly, calling it out.

Sometimes we don’t need a huge rebrand. We just need permission.

Permission to stop.

Permission to say, “This doesn’t work for me — can we try another way?”

And it goes deeper.

What about permission to change your mind? To learn out loud, rather than in secret? To be wrong sometimes and not feel shamed? To say, “I’m overwhelmed” — and not have it used against you?

What if we stopped rewarding endurance and started rewarding honesty?

What if our workplaces were built around the idea that being human isn’t a flaw — it’s the whole point?

Imagine that.

Imagine a culture where breaks are encouraged, not earned. A team that measures impact, not keyboard time. Someone yawning in a meeting or wandering out for some air, and no one silently judging them for it.

It’s not radical. It’s sensible. It’s overdue.

And it doesn’t mean slacking off or letting go of ambition. Quite the opposite.

Because when people feel safe, rested, heard, and trusted — they do their best work.

They collaborate more. Solve more problems. Bring more of their creativity, humour and insight to the table. They take fewer sick days and have fewer “can’t do this anymore” moments.

They stay.

But we can’t get there while we’re still worshipping at the altar of Normalised Nonsense.

So maybe it’s time we noticed it. Named it. And started quietly, kindly, dismantling it — one meeting, one policy, one “actually, that’s not working” at a time.