By 2022, I had already spent months pleading for the implementation of a lawful injury management plan, for a safe return-to-work process, for basic protections that should never have required begging in the first place.
When I directly reached out on LinkedIn to the Deputy Vice-Chancellor of Ethics, I wrote to him as a long-serving staff member in crisis.
In my message, I wrote about the implementation of the injury management plan being “non-negotiable” because it was both “the law” and “my employee and human right.”
I wrote about the fear of losing my home because my income and entitlements had been withheld.
I wrote about the university’s failure to provide a safe work environment and my concerns regarding the conduct of senior staff.
I wrote about the emotional and psychological toll this had taken on me and my family.
And I pleaded, again, for someone to finally intervene before more damage was done.
As I’ve already written, he read the message, viewed my profile, then he blocked me on LinkedIn.
That was it.
Just silence.
What made it even harder to process was what was happening publicly at exactly the same time.
While I was privately pleading for help from the Deputy Vice-Chancellor of Ethics, his LinkedIn feed was filled with posts about:
- flourishing at work,
- ethics,
- wellbeing,
- diversity,
- culture,
- mental health,
- and what it means to live a “good life.”
One post discussed whether “flourishing at work” was possible.
Another spoke about ethics being “an exceedingly practical subject” connected to mental health and “what’s real.”
Another discussed “ethics and culture” in workplaces.
I remember staring at those posts in disbelief - viewed via a friend’s LinkedIn account because I had been “blocked” by the DVC of Ethics.
Privately, I was living the exact opposite of everything being promoted publicly.
There was no flourishing.
There was no psychologically safe workplace.
There was no practical ethics.
There was no meaningful intervention.
And there was certainly no dignity in what was happening to me.
What affected me most was what the blocking represented.
It represented an institution choosing distance over due diligence and respectful engagement.
“Risk management” by not complying with statutory obligations, over humanity.
Image over accountability.
Because by that point, I had repeatedly raised concerns regarding workplace safety, injury management failures, statutory non-compliance, and the withholding of my entitlements.
I was trying to survive financially.
I was trying to preserve my health.
I was trying to save my home.
And instead of meaningful engagement from someone responsible for ethics oversight, I experienced disappearance.
A Final Reflection
As I look back on this period, I often think about a simple question raised in an article titled “What If We Applied the Golden Rule at Work?”.
The article explores a principle that most of us learned as children: treat others as you would wish to be treated yourself.
Simple in theory.
Yet the author argues that workplaces frequently drift away from this basic ethical standard. Decisions become driven by power, hierarchy, process, self-interest, or organisational protection rather than empathy, fairness, and respect for the human beings affected by those decisions.
The article asks readers to imagine what workplaces would look like if people genuinely applied the Golden Rule in their daily interactions, particularly when dealing with conflict, disagreement, vulnerability, or power imbalances.
Reading it, I could not help reflecting on my own experience.
Throughout this ordeal, I repeatedly asked for things that I believe most people would want for themselves if they found themselves injured, distressed, and dependent on others acting ethically.
I wanted communication.
I wanted honesty.
I wanted transparency.
I wanted a safe workplace.
I wanted my lawful entitlements respected.
I wanted somebody to listen.
I wanted somebody to care.
And perhaps most importantly, I wanted to be treated as a human being.
When I contacted the Deputy Vice-Chancellor of Ethics, I was seeking the very principles that universities, leaders, and ethics programs often promote publicly: dignity, respect, compassion, fairness, and concern for the wellbeing of others.
Instead, after my message was read and my profile viewed, I found myself blocked.
For someone already struggling under the weight of prolonged workplace harm, financial devastation, isolation, and institutional silence, it carried a deep message.
It left me wondering whether the Golden Rule still had a place inside the institutions that teach ethics, speak about human flourishing and dignity, and encourage their students to become leaders of integrity.
If the positions were reversed, if another member of staff had reached out to me in obvious distress, fearing the loss of their home, their livelihood, their health, and their future, I know I could not simply have turned away.
And perhaps that is the question that continues to stay with me:
If we truly applied the Golden Rule at work, how different would this story have been?
That moment also forced me to confront another devastating question:
What does “ethics” actually mean inside institutions when a distressed worker pleading for lawful protections becomes something to block out rather than respond to?
That question still remains…
While the institutionalised wage theft continues…
Source: contemporaneous record of events - Document 302
Reference:
Yamada, D. (2010, 18 October). What if we applied the Golden Rule at work? at
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