Chameleon Magazine

“If you want honest answers, don’t punish people for being honest.”

— Unknown

Years ago, I was working offshore as part of the management team. I’d worked my way up through the ranks, so I understood both sides of the fence—the crew and the command. One day in a safety meeting, we were discussing how to spend the bonus our platform had earned for maintaining a solid safety record. The decision had been made to involve the workforce, which I thought was a great idea.

Everyone submitted their charity suggestions on paper slips and dropped them into a box. The plan was simple: management would draw from the box and choose a few causes to donate the funds to. A gesture of goodwill. A bit of shared power.

Then came the twist.

In an afternoon safety meeting, the Offshore Installation Manager—the OIM, the top authority on the platform, the man often referred to as “God”—asked the team what we thought about vetting the submissions before drawing them. In other words, filtering out anything we didn’t think was suitable.

He went around the table. Most of the managers nodded along. When it got to me, I hesitated. Not because I didn’t have an opinion—but because I did. And it wasn’t the one he wanted.

I said I thought it was a bad idea. We’d asked the workforce for their input. Going behind their backs to remove entries could easily be seen as disrespectful, even manipulative. If we wanted to set guidelines, we should’ve done that up front.

One of the other managers—the medic—agreed with me at first. But after a bit more “persuasion” from the OIM, he changed his mind.

I didn’t.

And I could tell that wasn’t acceptable.

At the next meeting, the OIM brought it up again—not the decision, but the fact that I’d disagreed with him. There was no open argument, but the message was clear: this wasn’t about input. It was about alignment. I was uncomfortable. Frustrated. But I stayed quiet—for the moment.

Later, I asked to speak to him privately. I told him I didn’t appreciate being asked for my opinion only to be criticized for giving it. I said that going forward, if the decisions were already made, I’d rather not be included in the discussion.

That conversation didn’t win me “Employee of the Year.”

But it did teach me something: Sometimes you’re not being asked for your thoughts. You’re being invited to agree, dressed up as consultation.

So here’s the question:

What do you do when a leader asks for your advice—but clearly only wants your approval? Do you play along, or do you speak up, even when you know the cost?