Institutionalisation: How we became blindly compliant

Remember COVID? The entire world stopped overnight. We stayed home, we adjusted, we followed the rules—not necessarily because we deeply understood them, but because we were conditioned to trust authority in times of crisis. There was little debate. No real revolution. And while some people questioned the measures, for the most part, people didn’t just comply—they policed each other.

Psychologists have a name for this. In times of uncertainty, people instinctively turn to dominant narratives for guidance, prioritising group cohesion over independent thought (Jetten et al., 2020). The pandemic was the largest mass conformity event in modern history, not just because governments-imposed restrictions but because people themselves enforced them—not always because they truly agreed, but because rejecting them meant isolation (van Bavel et al., 2020). Funny considering isolation was the star of pandemic rules. Even in democratic societies, individuals will often sacrifice personal freedoms, not because they fully believe in the system, but because breaking from the group feels too uncomfortable (Packer, Ungson, & Marsh, 2021).

A cross-European study showed that while many privately questioned pandemic restrictions, they still enforced them on others. It wasn’t necessarily about health—it was about social belonging (Meier et al., 2020). Institutionalisation doesn’t require force. It operates through social conditioning, fear of rejection, and our natural need for security in structure—even when that structure is flawed.

This is not about whether restrictions were right or wrong. It’s about what they revealed about us.

We don’t always question the systems we operate in.
We comply. We wait.
We assume that “one day” things will be different.

But what if waiting is the very thing that keeps us stuck?

The Neuroscience of staying stuck

The human brain is wired for predictability and pattern recognition, which is why leaving a familiar system—no matter how flawed—feels overwhelming. Stepping outside structure triggers heightened activity in the prefrontal cortex and amygdala, increasing anxiety and reinforcing resistance to change (Kolb & Gibb, 2011).

We are not just trapped by external structures; we are neurologically conditioned to maintain them.

The Productivity Trap: How work became our identity

I grew up undiagnosed with ADHD—constantly jumping from one sport to another, one interest to another, always feeling like I wasn’t quite good at anything. Then I got my first job, and suddenly everything changed. Structure gave me value. For the first time, I felt competent, recognised, needed. So, I chased that feeling relentlessly. Work became my proof of worth, and without realising it, I started prioritising it over everything—my health, my relationships and my passions.

And I wasn’t alone in this.

We are conditioned to measure success not by joy, not by fulfilment, but by output. From an early age, we are taught that productivity equals value. That busyness is a virtue. That exhaustion is just part of the deal. And if we’re struggling? It’s not the system that’s broken—it’s us.

Psychologists call this Cognitive Dissonance (Festinger, 1957). When people spend years sacrificing their personal well-being for their careers, the idea that their efforts may have been misplaced creates unbearable discomfort. So instead of questioning the system, we justify it. We tell ourselves that “hard work pays off” or that “burnout is a sign of dedication.” We glorify overwork because admitting that our sacrifices didn’t need to be made feels like too much to bear.

But what if the assumption that work must equal exhaustion is simply a byproduct of industrial-era conditioning? We already see companies experimenting with four-day workweeks, asynchronous productivity models, and remote-first cultures—yielding higher efficiency, not lower. The 99-Day Rewire will test whether personal productivity, financial stability, and creative output can thrive outside of these ingrained work structures. If an individual can achieve sustainable high performance without rigid employment constraints, what does that mean for organizations? For leadership models? For teams?

But here’s the irony—studies show that people with greater autonomy over their time report higher life satisfaction and well-being (Schaufeli et al., 2009). And yet, we cling to rigid work structures because they provide a sense of order in an unpredictable world.

Which leads me to the question: If your job disappeared tomorrow—who would you be without it?