Why do toxic workplaces protect difficult people while expecting everyone else to adapt around them?

Why do toxic workplaces protect difficult people while expecting everyone else to adapt around them?

In this episode of Please Mute Your Trauma, Tiffany Collins explores the familiar workplace phrase, “That’s just how they are,” and how it allows toxic leadership, harmful behavior, intimidation, and disrespect to become normalized within organizational culture.

Every workplace seems to have someone employees are quietly warned about. Meetings are scheduled around their moods. Coworkers carefully manage their language. Teams learn when it is safe to ask questions, disagree, or speak up. Yet instead of holding the person accountable, leaders often excuse the behavior because the employee is experienced, powerful, well-connected, or considered too valuable to lose.

Using workplace stories, research-informed insight, and humor, Tiffany examines the hidden cost of protecting difficult leaders and high performers. She discusses how employees become unofficial emotional support humans, how harmful behavior gets renamed as a “strong communication style,” and why organizations often focus on an employee’s resilience rather than addressing the conditions causing the harm.

This episode explores toxic workplace culture, employee dignity, psychological safety, workplace trauma, leadership accountability, organizational betrayal, retaliation, burnout, power dynamics, and the emotional labor required to survive an unpredictable work environment.

You will also hear why:

• “That’s just how they are” is a decision, not an explanation
• High performance should not provide immunity from accountability
• Employees should not be responsible for managing a leader’s emotions
• Trauma may explain behavior without excusing its impact
• Workplace culture is defined by what leaders tolerate, reward, and protect
• Repair requires more than asking employees to simply move forward

A healthy workplace is not one without conflict. It is one where people can make mistakes, receive honest feedback, repair harm, and change without requiring others to sacrifice their dignity.

Because when an organization repeatedly protects one person’s behavior, that behavior no longer belongs to only one person. It becomes part of the culture.

Have a workplace story you want to share? Call 888-629-5081 and leave Tiffany a voicemail.

Work becomes meaningful when dignity is protected.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

Every workplace has that one person everyone has learned to work around. You know exactly who I mean. People warn new employees about them. Meetings are scheduled around their moods. Entire teams can determine which version of them showed up based upon how aggressively they placed their coffee mug on the conference table. But instead of addressing the behavior, the organization says, oh, that's just how they are. Okay. But at what point does who they are become who the organization is? Hi friends, I'm really glad you're here. Pull up a chair. We've been saving you a seat and we have a lot to talk about. This is Please Meet Your Trauma, the podcast for anyone who has ever been told that people are an organization's greatest asset while simultaneously feeling completely invisible. I'm Tiffany Collins. I'm a recovering overthinker, often too curious for my own good, and someone who has spent an unreasonable amount of time trying to understand why organizations will reorganize an entire workplace around one difficult person instead of simply addressing the difficult person. So today we need to talk about the phrase, that's just who they are. In my mind, it sounds harmless, right? But inside an organization, that sentence can become more than an explanation. I think it often becomes permission. Okay, let me paint you a scene. You start a new job, it's your first week, and you know how the first weeks are. You're excited, you're trying to remember everyone's name and doing it unsuccessfully. You're still trying to figure out how to get from your desk to the bathroom, and also determine whether the coffee in the break room is free or part of some payroll deduction you accidentally agreed to during onboarding. You have completed the official orientation, which even included watching the 17-minute video on bout workplace values. You sign the handbook and somewhat explain the organizational chart. Although when you're looking at it, none of the boxes seem to connect to the people who actually make decisions. And then you're just going about your business until a coworker pulls you aside for the real orientation. We've all had the real orientation at one point in time. That coworker lowers their voice and they say, okay, here's what you actually need to know. Do not email Susan before nine. Never disagree with Bob Naccounting in front of the vice president. If Chloe says, Can I ask you a question? Understand that it is not a question. If Mark closes his office door, do not knock. If Mark's office door is open, honestly, still don't knock. If anyone ever asks you who changed the shared spreadsheet, you know nothing. At this point, I'm thinking, hmm, did I accept a job in human resources? Or have I accidentally joined a poorly funded espionage operation? Because I think nobody has explained my actual responsibilities yet. But apparently I need a code name and emergency extraction plan. And we laugh because it's ridiculous. But think about what is happening. Before the new employee has even formed an opinion about this person, the organization is teaching them how to manage around them, how to communicate openly, how to survive their interactions. And usually the warning ends with some version of, you just have to know how to work with them. The phrase just cracks me up. What exactly do I need to know? Do I need a decoder ring? Ooh, is there a weather forecast? Or an advanced certification in emotional landmine detection? Okay, really, seriously, is there an app where I can go check their current conditions? I imagine it being like, good morning. Susan is experiencing scattered hostility with a 70% chance of passive aggression after lunch. Because you have to know how to work with them. The person is not managing their own behavior. I mean, the organization is managing it for them, right? And the strange part is that these people are rarely a secret. I mean, I think everybody knows in the organization. The managers know. HR knows. Most of the time the executive team knows, and sadly it might be a member of them. The receptionist definitely knows because the receptionists honestly know everything. If you ever want the real organizational climate assessment, stop sending surveys and ask the receptionist. The executive assistant, who or whoever cleans the conference room after leadership meetings. Those people have all the data. People know who interrupts everyone. They also know, I think, who humiliates employees during meetings. They know who responds to ordinary questions as though they've been personally betrayed by the existence of curiosity. They know who sends the emails at 11.47 p.m. And who follows up at 6.02 a.m. with a any update? Yeah. I want to say my update was that I was unconscious and I was sleepy like normal humans. They knew who takes credit when a project succeeds and suddenly becomes deeply committed to shared accountability when it fails. They also know who can turn a 10-minute staff meeting into a 45-minute hostage negotiation. They know who should never be told it's not a big deal. Because in my mind, it becomes a very big deal. Everyone knows. But often instead of addressing the behavior, the organization instead develops an entire system around it. People know not to challenge them in public. And often they know which information has to be delivered through someone else. Like we're playing the game of telephone. I feel like sometimes they know who needs to be copied on the email as a witness and they know when to stay quiet. And they also know when to smile and nod and say, oh, absolutely, I'll circle back, which is corporate language for I have no intention of continuing this conversation while you were in this condition. Everyone becomes incredibly skilled at working around the problem. But what always fascinates is that almost nobody is allowed to name the problem. And then organizations just call it culture. Here's what really bothers me about the phrase, that's just who they are. I feel like it takes behavior and turns it into identity. They're not choosing to interrupt people, that is just who they are. They're not humiliating employees. They're just direct. You have to learn. They're not creating chaos, they move quickly. That's my personal favorite. They're not intimidating people, they're just deeply passionate. They're not disrespectful, they simply have really high standards. And once the behavior becomes part of someone else's personality, I feel like that's when it becomes permanent. And funny enough, everyone else must learn to accept it because that's how they are. I once heard someone describe it as having a very strong communication style. And honestly, I had to pause and think. And in my mind, I was like, that is an interesting way to say three people cried in the parking lot. Organizations are exceptionally creative when they need to avoid naming behavior. I mean, they're not volatile, they are high energy. They're not controlling, they're deeply invested in the details. And finally, they're not creating mask evasion by changing the project every six hours after everyone's already signed off on it. They're agile. Apparently, I think sometimes if you add enough corporate vocabulary, any behavior can become a leadership competency. But I guess in my mind, being direct does not require being demeaning. Also, having high standards does not require humiliating people. Being passionate doesn't give someone permission to make an entire team afraid of them. And being brilliant does not cancel out the damage that we create while demonstrating brilliance. This is not about labeling every difficult interaction as toxic. It is not toxic like any time someone disagrees with you. It's not toxic every time a leader gives you feedback you thoroughly did not enjoy. And I also think it's not toxic when someone is frustrated, has a bad day, or communicates imperfectly. Because at the end of the day, we're all human. We're all gonna get things wrong. I do it often. I have absolutely sent an email, reread it later, and thought, ooh, well, that had the warmth of a parking citation. I mean, sometimes we're exhausted. Sometimes our tone misses. Sometimes we walk in a conversation carrying stress that has nothing to do with the person standing in front of us. I mean, like, let's think about this. Healthy workplaces are not conflict-free workplaces. A workplace with no conflict is either lying or I think nobody's saying what they actually think. I think sometimes like the goal we think through is endless harmony. The goal is not to have every meeting end with a group hug in a shared breathing exercise. In one, two, three. Out, one, two, three. The goal is to create a workplace where disagreement can happen without somebody losing their dignity. I want a place where feedback can be direct without also sounding degrading. I want to work in an organization where someone can make a mistake, receive accountability on the mistake, repair the relationship, and then that person behaves differently next time. I think the issue is not one perfect moment, it's the pattern. And it's what happens when the same person constantly, consistently creates fear, humiliation, instability, confusion, harm. And the organization repeatedly requires everyone else to adjust but that person. That is different. The difference becomes especially important when the person has power. Because when the person is signing your performance review is just like that, it's impossible to simply decide how to avoid them. When the person controlling opportunities, your schedule, your reputation, or like continued employment behaves unpredictable, their personality is become part of your working conditions. I think it is no longer merely interpersonal. And at that point, I think it becomes organizational. And I think this is where it connects to the last episode. Sometimes your body knows a workplace is not safe before you can fully explain why. And I think this is one of the ways it happens. Your body starts learning a pattern, you hear the footsteps in the hallway and it really sit up straighter. You see their name appear in an inbox, and then you feel your stomach tighten. If you're like me, you rehearse a simple question three times before asking it. You read your email aloud to determine whether in the phrase, can you clarify? Sounds disrespectful. And then you remove the question mark because suddenly punctuation feels confrontational. You start with message, hi, I hope you're having a wonderful day. Even though it's 7.16 on a Monday morning, and absolutely nobody is having a wonderful day. It's Monday. Oh, and you add an exclamation point so that you know you're friendly. Oh, and then you decide to remove it because that might be sarcastic. And then you can put it back because now the email feels cold because there's no punctuation. 20 minutes later, I've written 11 words, and now I needed to lie down and take a nap. You check their mood before deciding whether it's safe to re is a concern. We've all been hyper-aware of facial expressions, tones, and the way someone enters a room. Maybe nothing dramatic happens that day, but I think what happens is your body remains prepared for it. That level of monitoring requires energy. A lot of energy. Your body remains prepared for an attack. And I think often we spend a level, maybe nothing dramatic happens that day. But often your body remains prepared for it because you never know. And that level of monitoring requires energy, a lot of stupid energy. You're not only doing your actual job, but you're also performing the second invisible job. You spend a lot of time managing your words, your face, your body, and sometimes the emotions of the person who has more power than you. And then we all go home exhausted and wonder why. Maybe you did not have an unusually heavy workload. Maybe nothing looked particularly serious from the outside. But then you spent eight hours trying not to activate another adult. Come on, guys, that's work. And this work doesn't appear in your job description. But I mean your nervous system is absolutely clucking over time. And the worst part is it doesn't receive time and a half. So if an employee becomes an official handler for the difficult person, you know the person too. They can translate the leader's behavior. And when they say things like, what she meant was, oh, he wasn't angry with you, that's just his face. Let me ask you, I know how to phrase it. This employee somehow became the office emotional support human. And it's not even a collateral duty they're getting paid extra for. They never interview for it. I mean, nobody asked whether they wanted that role. They just demonstrated one random time that they could calm Greg down. And now, lucky them, they're permanently assigned to Greg for containment. They demonstrated that one time they could calm Greg down. And now they're permanently assigned to Greg containment. Every meeting begins with someone solemnly making eye contact with them, like, please control your man. And the emotional support employee steps in, they redirect, they translate and repair, and they follow up with everyone afterward. They say, Don't worry about it. He does that to everyone. Which is intended sometimes to be comforting, but really it's actually much worse. Because if he does that to everyone, we no longer have an isolated problem. We have a subscription. And here's where dignity enters the conversation. When employees are repeatedly expected to absorb, translate, or regulate someone else's behavior just to keep the workplace functioning, I feel like the organization is quietly deciding whose comfort matters and whose dignity is negotiable. And it's really sad that the difficult person gets to remain comfortable and everyone else is just gets better at adapting. So why do organizations allow this? I do realize that sometimes the person has been there forever. They have institutional knowledge, they know every process, they remember why the policy was created in 2007, and maybe they're the only person who understands the sacred spreadsheet. I mean, every organization has one. It was created in 2004, it has 47 tabs, six of the tabs are hidden, one tab labeled final, and then another one labeled final two, and another and final three. Oh, and then there's a revised final two, revised. And somewhere near the end is use this one only caps. Although nobody is completely confident that they shouldn't use that one. There's formulas inside that spreadsheet that predate three organizational restructures and at least one chief financial officer. Nobody knows where the numbers come from. Nobody knows what happens if a cell is deleted. My favorite is there's always this one section highlighted in red that says, do not touch. And the person who created it is apparently the only thing preventing payroll from stopping, keep the building from losing power, and the organization from collapsing into the ocean. So leadership often says things like, we can't afford to lose them. And often I'm thinking, respectfully, if one pleasant person in a haunted spreadsheet are the only thing separating us from total organizational collapse, we have several problems. Sometimes the person brings in money. Maybe they hit the numbers, they land the important clients and they get results. Sometimes they're buddies with the founder and the executive team and someone on the board. And sometimes leadership simply does not want to deal with conflict, which I think is often the case. Addressing behavior would require documentation, difficult conversations, consistent expectations, and possibly consequences. And at that point, it's much easier to tell everyone else it's just how they are. But I think when an organization says it cannot afford to lose one high performer, I always think and want to ask, how many other people are you willing to lose in order to keep that one person? Because most organizations, in my mind, have math problems. Because organizations often calculate that one person's value on what they produce, but rarely do they calculate the cost of everything happening around that one person. No one calculates how much time managers spend cleaning up their interactions, how many employees have complained and then been transferred, how many people have stopped contributing ideas because they do not want to become a target. How many hours they spent preparing for, documenting for, and recovering from conversations with this one person. How many employees have resigned and written career growth on their exit form? I cannot attend another meeting with Greg. Did not feel professional enough. That person may look incredibly productive on paper. But let's be honest, the paper doesn't show all of the people performing additional emotional and relational labor just to make productivity possible. Organizations often get stuck in calculating their output without calculating their wake. And let's be clear here, every person leaves a wake. What happens to the people behind them after they pass through? Do people feel clearer or stronger or more capable? Or are they trying to repair the damage from Hurricane Greg? Performance without accountability is not exceptional performance, it's subsidized performance. The organization is making everyone else pay the cost. And over time, eventually someone says something. An employee goes to a manager, HR, or senior leader and says, This behavior is affecting me. This is happening repeatedly. I do not feel safe speaking in meetings. I am consistently being yelled at. That is an incredible transformation. We started with my mutiner screamed at me and threw a binder. And somehow ended, have you tried the breathing exercises in the meditation app we provide? Somewhere inside the organization, there's apparently a machine that takes systemic dysfunction and prints out employee wellness recommendations. You probably could insert a tag that said, My leader publicly humiliated me. Then your machine makes a few noises, beep boo, beep boo, beep boo. And then it prints, ooh, have you considered downloading our mindfulness app? Or maybe you insert a card that says, I'm doing the work of three people. Beep boop, beep boop, beep boop. And the machine prints, remember to practice self-care. Or maybe there's a magic eight ball where you say, Magic eight ball, my manager retaliated after I reported a concern. You shake the ball. And the ball says, here is the webinar for managing difficult personalities. Let's be honest, that's not support, that's organizational ventriloquism. The system creates the problem and then hands the employee a pamphlet about coping with it. And I say that with love for HR because I understand the constraint HR professionals face. Often we think HR doesn't not always have the authority people assume it has. And that's true. We don't. Sometimes HR raises the concern and leadership chooses not to act because they know better. Sometimes policies exist, but the political will does not. There's been times when I'm standing there in HR with documentation. I have recommendations and a fire extinguisher, while leadership insists the building is merely experience a warm culture. But still have to notice when support from the employee becomes a substitute for accountability from the organization. Because one person creates harm, yet often the employee who finally names it becomes the destruction. And now we're examining sensitivity, their tone, their communication style, their emotional regulation, their ability to manage conflict, anything except the original behavior. One of the most common responses I hear working as an HR, have you tried talking to them directly? Sometimes that is completely appropriate. As adults, we would hope that we could have honest conversations with one another. But not every problem requires a formal investigation and a binder thick enough to qualify as furniture. But we have to consider power. Telling an employee to directly confront the executive who controls our job is not empowerment. Sometimes it's abandonment wearing a conflict resolution name tag. I once had an employee say, My vice president has a pattern of humiliating me in meetings and retaliating when challenged. And their manager gave him the response of, Hmm, have you tried providing that free back directly? Oh, absolutely. Let this employee schedule 30 minutes between questioning my career choices and if they write a resume. Would you also like me to blindfold myself and walk in a mirroring carrying my last performance review? I mean, direct conversation is useful when there is enough relational safety for honesty. But often when the behavior includes retaliation or intimidation or misuse of authority, the organization can't place the entire burden on the less powerful person. Let's be honest. That's not conflict resolution. That's essentially sending an employee into an organizational traffic and asking them to make eye contact with the vehicle. And okay, let's just be real here. Sometimes two people generally have different communication styles. Often in organizations, right, we have misunderstandings. They're personality conflicts. And there's situations where both people need to take time and reflect in their timeout quarters. But honestly, communication style cannot be a catch-all explanation for behavior that repeatedly diminishes, intimidates, or degrades others. That's not calling something a style, it's trying to remove the impact. Let's think about it this way: if I repeatedly step on your foot, the fact that my walk-in style is aggressive does not make your foot hurtless. Even though we try to ignore it, intent matters. But impact is also information. I feel like leaders often say, I didn't intend to intimidate anyone. Okay, that matters. But if six employees are afraid to ask you questions, that also matters. At some point, the shared experience of the people around you becomes data. Let's be honest. It's not an attack, not gossip, it's facts, it's data. Culture is not what leaders say they value. Culture is what employees learn they must do to survive, belong, and hopefully succeed. Employees watch what happens. They watch who can interrupt and who must remain polite and silent. Employees watch who receives protection. They often watch who's expected to apologize and who's forgiven automatically. They pay attention whether reporting a concern leads to meaningful action or an awkward mediation where someone is told to move forward. Organizations, right, love moving forward. It's often like watching someone knock over an entire display at a store and then announce, I think we should focus on the future. Well, future currently has 17 broken plates in it, but okay. I think organizational culture is taught through consequences. It's taught through what happens next. What happens after someone humiliates an employee? What happens after a leader screams in a meeting? What happens after a concern is raised? And what happens after retaliation? What happens after the organization has enough information to recognize a pattern? Does something change? Or instead, does everyone receive another reminder that this is simply how that person is? I often think that every time an organization excuses harmful behavior, it ultimately communicates a lesson. And the lesson isn't about the individual, the lesson is about power. It tells employees whose behavior will be protected and whose experiences can be dismissed. And once people learn that lesson, they start to make rational choices. They stop whistleblowing, they stop reporting. No one ever challenges an idea. And sadly, they stop contributing. They remain employed, but they begin withdrawing themselves from parts of the workplace. They remove their ideas, their trust, their creativity or innovation, their willingness to take interpersonal risks, and more importantly, they learn that silence is safer. Then hopefully, at some point, if ever, sometimes six months later, again, sometimes never, leadership looks around and says, hmm, I don't understand why nobody speaks up anymore. Well, people did speak up. The organization provided a live demonstration workshop on what happens when they do. Without even knowing it, the organization was providing training. I believe organizations sometimes avoid accountability because they confuse it with punishment. I think they worry that addressing behavior is unkind. Or they try to justify that maybe the person is going through something. Maybe they've experienced trauma, or maybe they've never learned how to communicate differently, or they're under tremendous pressure. Let's be honest, all those things can be true at the same time, but context matters. Trauma matters. Compassion matters. And ultimately, understanding behavior is not the same as excusing behavior. A trauma-informed workplace should not mean that one person's trauma is allowed to become everyone else's working condition. Why can we understand someone behaves a certain way while still creating boundaries around what is acceptable? We can care about the person causing the harm and also care about the people experiencing it. Those I would call responsibilities, and they're not conflict. In fact, refusing to address the behavior is not compassionate to the person either. It's allowing them to continue damaging relationships, trust, ideas, and possibly their own career without being given a meaningful opportunity to change. I think we need to think about how accountability sounds. Accountability says this behavior is not acceptable here. Here, this is the impact that it's having. Here, let me help you decide what needs to change. Hey, there's support available to help you change it. And also, these are the consequences if it continues. That's not humiliation. That is clarity. And clear boundaries can be deeply dignifying. So what should organization actually do? First, handle their behavior specifically. Not she's difficult, not he has a strong personality, not they can be a lot. A lot is not an actionable leadership diagnosis. What is actually happening is the person interrupting and interfering with other employees to increase their voice or retaliate when being challenged. Another way to do this is they withhold information. They publicly humiliate people, and they change expectations without ever communicating them. Specific behavior can be addressed. Vague labels usually cannot. And here's the second thing: look for patterns. One uncomfortable interaction is different from repeated behavior across multiple people and situations. It's important that we don't examine every complaint as though it arrived in a vacuum. If five employees independently describe the same conduct, stop acting surprised every time the sixth person enters the room. At some point, separate incidents become organizational knowledge. Third, stop making the least powerful person responsible for solving the problem. Yes, there is a place for direct communication. But telling an employee to confront a powerful leader without considering the power difference is not automatically courageous leadership. Sometimes it's management outsourcing its own responsibility. 4. Create the same behavioral expectations for high performers that exist for everyone else. Results, I think, don't purchase immunity. Institutional knowledge does not provide diplomatic status. The sacred spreadsheet can be documented. The process can be cross-trained. Susan can receive feedback before nine. And yes, the organization will survive. And if it will not survive, again, we have discovered a much larger concern, right? Finally, repair work been damaged. Addressing the difficult person is only part of the work. We often don't consider what about the employees who are affected? Has trust been broken? Whose careers were disrupted? Did people receive unfair reviews? Were they labeled difficult by this person because they raised a concern? Repair might require acknowledgement. That's hard. It might require correcting records, changing reporting relationships, restoring opportunities, or simply telling the truth about what happened. Moving forward without repair usually means asking the harmed person to carry the past quietly so everyone else can feel comfortable. I'm thinking that maybe the question is not, why is this person like that? But maybe the more important question is why has the organization decided everyone else must live with it? Because once leadership knows about behavior, I think the story should change. It's no longer just one person behaving badly, it's an organization choosing to tolerate it. And that choice becomes culture. So think about your own workplace. Who does everyone know how to manage your own? Who receives warnings disguised as introductions? Whose moods determine how other people move for upper day? Also, I want to know who has an unofficial emotional support employee assigned to them? Who's considered too valuable or too powerful, too connected, too brilliant, or too difficult to be held accountable? And what has everyone else been asked to sacrifice in order to keep that one person comfortable? Because that's just how they are is not a neutral statement. It's a decision. It means the person does not have to change. The system will change around them. Employees will absolutely become quieter. Meanings will become more careful. Communication will become more guarded, and that new employee will receive the unofficial survival briefing. The sacred spreadsheet will remain in touch. Susan will continue operating under a pre-9 a.m. exclusion zone. And I think over time, eventually what began as one person's behavior becomes the personality of the entire organization. A dignifying workplace is not one where everyone behaves perfectly. I mean, let's be honest, that workplace doesn't exist. A dignifying workplace is one where people can make mistakes, receive honest feedback, take responsibility, repair harm, and ultimately change. It's a workplace where compassion and accountability, I think, can exist together. It's a workplace where employees do not require to become intelligence analysts, emotional support humans, or hostage negotiators just to make it through the staff meeting. And it's a workplace where leaders understand what they repeatedly tolerate, excuse, and protect will eventually become the culture. I would you pay attention to the next time someone says, hey, that's just how they are. And maybe ask and said, why have we decided that everyone else has to live with it? Before we go, I just want to leave you with one more thought. And this podcast was never meant to be just me and a monologue. I've always hoped that it was meant to be a conversation. Because I know that I'm not the only person asking these questions. And I know I'm definitely not the only person who has sat in the chair and learned to work around that person. And I know I'm not the only one who's ever wondered whether being professional meant becoming less human. So if today's episode made you stop and think, or made you recognize a place where you've been performing safety instead of experiencing it, or operating around that one person who's just that how they are, I would love to hear from you. Please head over to pleasemeatyourtrauma.com. There's every episode there. I'm going to start placing additional resources and a place to continue the conversation, hopefully. So if you have a workplace story, or maybe a question, or some random thought on a Wednesday, leave me a voicemail message at 188-629-5081. And again, let me say that again. It's 1888-629-5081. Seriously? I want to hear your voice. And some of those messages may become part of future episodes. Because I have a feeling the conversations we're not having are exactly the ones we need to begin having. Until next time, I want you to remember. And in order for work to become meaningful, dignity has to be protected. And most importantly, that means protecting your own. Hope you all have a great week. See you next time.