Workplace Jiujitsu #5: The Gift Of More Burden

Picture a frontend engineer holding a failing project together. He keeps it from collapsing. He absorbs risk, chaos, and silence. Eventually, leadership calls him into the office.

Management hands him a book with a smile. It's a gesture. A nod. A symbol of private recognition.

As he turns to leave, they mention something offhand: “Hey, think you could help patch the potholes in the parking lot? We’ve been meaning to repaint the lines too.”

He nods, because that’s what glue does. It nods. It shoulders. It stretches.

Some of you have lived this story.

You solve a problem no one else could, or would, and the reward isn’t clarity, autonomy, or even recovery.

It’s more burden.

• More quiet tasks passed off as trust.
• More “ownership” without runway.
• More asks with the words “we thought you’d be perfect for this.”

It feels like a compliment. But it’s not. It’s strategic containment.

Praise is not always placement. A thank-you can be a trap. The symbolic reward (the book, the lunch, or the spotlight) often comes with invisible strings.

It keeps you in the hallway, near the room, but never in it.

Here’s the Workplace Jiujitsu move:

Convert symbolic praise into structural leverage.

Name what the gesture actually means. “Am I owning this going forward, or just helping out for now?”

Redirect the gratitude into clarity. “Is this work tied to any decision-making or is it separate?”

Push for position, not proximity. A nod is not a promotion. Don’t confuse being useful with being influential.

Workplaces don’t always recognize or know how to reward glue. They often reward silence, positivity, durability, and patched-over chaos. But you don’t owe them fixed potholes just because you prevented a collapse.

Deliberately choose to see the difference between a reward… and a deflection.

If this resonates, even quietly, I’d be curious to hear: Have you ever been given more responsibility right when you needed relief?

Feel free to comment, or just sit with it. I know most of you are lurkers. I used to be one, too.