Psychological Violence in the Workplace

New perspectives and shifting frameworks

Emily Schindeler, Janet Ransley, Danielle Reynald

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2016
• Topic: Social Sciences
• eBook ISBN:
  9781317446095
• Subtopic: Criminology
• Index: Social Sciences

Violence is defined by the World Health Organisation as the intentional use of physical force or power, threatened or actual, which either results in or has a high likelihood of resulting in injury, death, or psychological harm. But while physical violence is seen as unacceptable, why is psychological violence still treated as a secondary concern?

This timely book challenges the way harm and violence in the workplace have been conceptualised, translated into law and presented in organisational and management discourse. The authors argue that addressing psychological violence warrants a fresh approach that acknowledges the limits of current thinking and that centres on protecting the values of ethical practice and the people who contribute to organisations, productivity, and the community.

Psychological Violence in the Workplace challenges the status quo and advocates a new approach for understanding and responding to the problem of victimisation at work. This book will be of interest to academics and practitioners in the fields of criminology, victimology, law, human resource management, and workplace health and safety.

Part I

The problem

Conceptualising and measuring

1 Conceptualising violence

A problem of definition

Emily Schindeler

Introduction

Consider the experience of Ms Green. She held a responsible position in a highly reputed financial institution, but she was driven from her position as a consequence of continual abuse. Socially excluded by her co-workers, she faced a daily barrage of incivilities and continuing efforts to obstruct her ability to carry out her work. Documents were deliberately misplaced or not delivered, information required for her work was removed from the computer records, and the line manager encouraged the others and participated in the persecution. When Ms Green complained to the section manager about her treatment, she was advised to simply ignore it. The department head, made aware of the problem by Ms Green, took no steps to prevent or stop the ongoing harassment. Ms Green became depressed, which lead to a complete nervous breakdown. It took civil action for her to get any recognition of the psychological violence she endured and the high personal costs of her victimisation.

(2006) EWHC 1898 (QB)

The US Department of Justice defines workplace violence as “any form of conduct that intentionally creates anxiety, fear and a climate of distrust in the workplace” (2003:19). Despite the inclusiveness of this definition, violence remains a culturally defined concept, constructed and changeable over time and context. As noted by Carter (2007:8), violence is not only a historically shaped phenomenon, but it is inherently linked with cultural views of justice and morality. The cultural framework establishes the narrative that enables setting of the boundaries between the legitimate and the illegitimate ways of being, applies the label of violence and determines actions deserving of being sanction or ignored.

Some behaviours that might otherwise be viewed as violent may be tolerated or remain virtually invisible in everyday interactions (Stanko, 1994). For example, the historical blindness to violence in the home against women and children has only recently emerged from behind the curtains to public view. This demonstrates how undisputed forms of violence are able to remain not only hidden (or even acknowledged) but unchallenged. This same exemplar provides evidence of the way in which unseen violence may come into view given the establishment of a counter-narrative that makes such behaviour unacceptable at a community level and ultimately a political level. Embedded within the prevailing understanding of what constitutes violence is the interface (or gap) between institutional and community perspectives. It is the nature of any response (social, legal or institutional) that is reflective of the way in which particular forms of violence are viewed and the import ascribed to them. Conceptions of violence have an inherent political dimension as seen through the lens of the law, the operation of the justice system, and institutional conduct.

We must recognize that there are a number of voices (e.g. political, ideological, academic, economic interests) which seek to influence the narrative and public perceptions of what is or is not acceptable. This is instrumental in shaping the extent to which various forms of abuse are viewed as problematic or not. This coming together of various voices is described by Foucault (1980) as a technical process, directed by those having power in particular domains, that guides and shapes what is produced as knowledge. It is through this process that particular conceptualisations become legitimised and implanted in institutional thinking. Accordingly, if violence is viewed as a specific event that is perpetrated by someone or a group against an individual or ‘other’ group, it can be constructed as a problem able to be minimised by some form of intervention, such as education or counselling, in the absence of other sanctions. In short, labelling something as an event effectively reduces it to a micro level that can be ‘managed’ and/or ignored (Foucault, 1980:133). The problem simply becomes dealing with the bad apple in the barrel. This then obscures the power and privilege that are entrenched in the way the construction of violence is understood, controlled and enabled.

The technical process of definition and categorization has transformed and minimised psychological violence within a hierarchy of acceptable and unacceptable behavioural labels. This requires recognition of how environment influences the ways in which particular behaviours are viewed or judged – whether in private or public, in the family or in the workplace, in the presence or absence of physical assault. As noted by Maxfield and Babbie (2015:57), “what we regard as moral and ethical in day to day life is no more than a matter of agreement among members of a group”. It is these contextual factors that can determine how abusive interactions may be accepted (and indeed normalised) or condemned. This highlights the importance of considering how knowledge-makers (in industry, government, academia and the media) have been able to effectively obscure the violent nature and injury which are attendant to psychological abuse in the workplace.

Why is this a conversation that needs to be had?

Practical and effective responses to the problem of psychological violence have been slow to emerge. Carroll Brodsky’s (1976) book The Harassed Worker identified the problem of internal violence and the toll paid by victims. Just over two decades later, Chappell and Di Martino (1998) spoke out about the importance of recognising that violence within the workplace is a costly problem for the organisation and the individual that demands action and not just recognition. Further, they argued that it is critical that violence in its various forms should not be permitted to become a normal part of the work experience. This warning led to relatively little substantial or effective difference, despite the growing evidence that psychological violence has been directly linked with suicide, somatic and psychological injury, and posttraumatic stress disorder.¹ Although these ramifications of psychological abuse are well recognised, the collective impact of international efforts has shown little evidence of success in prevention or ensuring procedural justice or reparative outcomes for victims. Despite nominal condemnation of psychological violence, there is little evidence that those with authority are willing to exercise available powers to proactively intervene or to hold those responsible accountable in meaningful ways. Indeed, the cumulative effect in many environments has been the adoption of processes which revictimise the victims. The reasons behind this failure, as explored in subsequent chapters, are accountable in no small way to a narrative that enables a purposeful ambiguity and an unwillingness to address demonstrable barriers to prevention or just responses.

Do we know it when we see it?

It doesn’t sound like much when you put it into words, but it is. After relating her experiences with a female co-worker, Carolyn succinctly identifies the major challenge with abusive workplace behavior: it is hard to describe. This is a theme that ran through many of our respondents’ interviews. This challenge is not only formidable for the targets who must convince others (including themselves) of the seriousness and harm in the situation but also for researchers, practitioners and concerned organisational members who want to document and characterize the phenomenon and develop ways to deal with these situations. Indeed, unlike the more observable physical violence, the proof of such treatment rests with the targets.

(Keashley, 2001:239)

There is little consistency in the way psychological abuse has been defined by legislators, policy makers and researchers (whether academic or institutional), except to note that conceptualisation has led to multiple constructs, few of which incorporate the term violence. Whether described as harassment, aggression, bullying, mobbing, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, victimisation, antisocial behaviour, incivility, abusive supervision or even bad behaviour, each term refers to negative interactions that are injurious to the target as well as to bystanders. It is relevant then to ask whether the adoption of such different constructs has been helpful. Arguments for and against an inclusive definition have drawn attention to and generated a level of debate which appears more concerned with interactional dynamics and creating constructs than recognising the commonality of outcomes (e.g. Stanko, 2003; Waddington, Badger and Bull, 2005; Caponecchia and Wyatt, 2009; Tepper and Henle, 2011). This debate is discussed separately later.

Little consideration has been given to what, if any, direct links exist between the various systems of defining or classifying abusive actions and community norms and expectations for acceptable or unacceptable behaviours, or why some behaviours that may be considered unacceptable in one context (say the community) and acceptable in another (say the workplace). In short, one can ask why behaviours that are condemned in public and private life can be deemed acceptable in the workplace. Stanko (2003) reflected on this question in reporting the findings of the United Kingdom’s Economic and Social Research Council Violence Research Program. Across contexts and situations it was found that participants would often refer to the terms of engagement, which involved an implicit shared understanding of what is or is not acceptable and what is understood as violent. These terms of engagement are learned within specific environments and represent the ways in which local culture and norms dictate what is understood as violence and the messages that this conveys. Understanding what constitutes violence, then, is not only specific to time and place but also the cultural perspective on specific types of relationships (e.g. parent/child, neighbour/neighbour; stranger/stranger). Further, as observed by Carter (2007:4), it is these cultural perspectives that can provide “justifications for violence or for its avoidance or suppression”.

To illustrate this point, in most Western countries there has been a willingness to enact protections against racial discrimination and sexual harassment within workplaces (though evidence would suggest the effectiveness of such protections this is very much a work in progress), while the broader problem of psychological violence has remained contentious. Looking at the prevailing narrative, it can be seen that psychological abuse has been subject to increasingly narrow definitions, marginalising and limiting recognition of the consequences for those on the receiving end of such violence (Chappell and Di Martino, 1998:21). This has enabled efforts to focus on the classification of behaviours rather than on the ensuing harm and injury, rendering safeguards ineffective and undermining attempts to reliably determine the prevalence of such violence.

The processes of classifying, categorizing and defining have been pursued by psychologists, sociologists and organisational behaviourists. Regulators and international organisations such as the European Union, the International Labor Organisation and the World Health Organisation have also engaged in some way with the problem. Surveys have been conducted, studies have been made and individual characteristics or personality traits have been ascribed to targets and alleged perpetrators. The complementary perspective has been pursued with risk and incidence being attributed to environmental or organisational conditions and political and economic factors. For example, Neall and Tuckey’s (2014) review of 234 peer-reviewed published articles found an array of constructs, of which 36 per cent adopted workplace bullying, 21.3 per cent workplace aggression, 10 per cent workplace harassment, and 9.2 per cent workplace incivility and abusive supervision each. Critically, this inclination to promote multiple ways of defining and constructing classes of behaviours enables abuse to be reshaped and constructed as something other than violence and orients understandings away from the actual harm that is caused.

Despite efforts to differentiate and classify abusive behaviours according to a continuum of seriousness, the definitions applied to most terms involve a requirement (implicit or explicit) of a proven intent to do harm. This is a powerful characteristic of the narrative. It would be a rare occasion that an assertion would be made that threats of physical violence or actual assault do not contain implicit elements of intent. In contrast, the requirement to prove intent has been a powerful mechanism for excusing, or at least mitigating, responsibility for nonphysical violence and abuse. There is some irony in this requirement to prove intent, given that many definitions (especially those related to bullying or harassment) require that a target establish that there has been a pattern of recurrent abuse – that is, until the target has experienced ongoing or repeated abuse, often over some time period, it is not adequate to trigger an intervention or protection. Such approaches to differentiation have become embedded in regulation, codes and practice guides. Because of this, the diversity of terminology is not neutral but rather has considerable weight when considering the implications for protecting those who may be at risk and those who have been victimised.

The debate: inclusive or not?

The language is an issue, isn’t it? When you talk – when you use the term, you can have six people sitting around the table and everybody’s eyes light up. But when you begin to hear the different stories, it takes a while to actually get some shared meaning.

(employee advocate cited by Hutchinson, 2012:645)

To appreciate the way in which psychological abuse (with consequent injury) has been constructed as something other than violence, one must consider the arguments for and against the adoption of an inclusive versus exclusive approach to defining or classifying behaviours. An opening question that merits interrogation is whether such classification systems are useful or conducive to understanding, to prevention or to providing an effective response. Further, it requires one to consider the consequences when viewed from the perspective of the victim. For example, Burman et al. (cited in Stanko, 2003:7) found that the female adolescent participants categorized verbal abuse as violence and as the most frequent form of violence they experienced. Yet, some members of the Violence Research Program team were less willing to keep verbal abuse within the construct of violence. This is in marked contrast with the assertion by Guay et al. (2014:572) that “verbal abuse is the most prevalent form of workplace violence”.

Piquero et al. (2013:184) reached similar conclusions after reviewing studies covering the period between 2000 and 2012, finding that “the overall prevalence of non-physical or psychological aggression was higher than that for physical aggression or violent behaviour”, where violence was defined as only referring to physical assault. Importantly, any studies which did not differentiate between aggression and physical violence were excluded. Barling, Dupre and Kelloway (2009) adopted this same bifocal approach, insisting that physical and psychological assault represent separate constructs demanding different labels of aggression and violence. This argument seems to imply that physical assault has greater import than psychological violence, in contrast with the evidence that the latter is far more prevalent than the former (Schat et al., 2006) and the effects of the injury can be more lasting.

Much of the argument supporting the use of differing constructs, even where there is an overlap in the nature of actions that may fall within more than one construct, relies on the viewing of such violence as a consequence of interpersonal interactions outside the context of the organisation. For example Caponecchi and Wyatt (2009) argue that combining different constructs creates a risk of conflating understanding of the incidence of different types of abuse (in this case bullying versus harassment) and argue that the differentiation is important with respect to the locus of legal responsibility for action, whether under anti-discrimination provisions, criminal law or workplace health and safety regulations. Despite this claim, Caponecchi and Wyatt (2009) acknowledge that such a system is reliant on the target being able to use the ‘correct’ term to describe what they have experienced, which seems to turn the problem on its head; using the ‘wrong’ term will compromise the potential protection of victims. For example, in the United States, while illegal harassment protections are provided for a target having a specified attribute, a victim who is not captured by the civil rights provisions has no appreciable protection. Further, while Caponecchi and Wyatt (2009) concede that it can be difficult to differentiate between harassment and bullying when both exist, they maintain that neither exists as a subset of violence. This view is based upon the premise that covert abuse should be differentiated from that which is overt, and it seems to tacitly dismiss psychological abuse as violence. In the end, this appears to be somewhat arbitrary, given that there is no dispute that the actual injury that can result does not change.

Griffin and Lopez (2005) also raised the question as to whether the proliferation of different constructs, often with relatively ambiguous differences, did not have the potential to distort both conceptualisa...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• List of figures
• List of contributors
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction: new perspectives and shifting frameworks
• Part I The problem: conceptualising and measuring
• Part II The problem: understanding the context
• Part III The problem: why we need new directions
• Index