As a leader, you’ve probably spent years nudging your managers to create psychological safety. After all, organizations benefit greatly when it feels safe to challenge the boss, surface bad news early, and say the uncomfortable thing before it becomes the expensive thing.
The Space Shuttle Challenger disaster of 1986 has become the canonical warning. Engineers raised concerns about the O-rings used in the solid rocket booster before launch. Their warnings were overruled by managers under schedule pressure. Seventy-three seconds after liftoff, seven astronauts were dead. The lesson still holds: When people are afraid to speak or are pressured to comply, organizations miss what they already know.
AI, however, is introducing a complication most leaders haven’t accounted for. Your employees now have another place to speak, and emerging research suggests they may be more willing to challenge a machine than a human leader, while another body of research challenges our assumptions about psychological safety itself.
Put those together, and you’re no longer managing psychological safety only between people. You’re managing it across people and machines, and the two may tell you very different things about your organization’s health.
Safety needs accountability
Psychological safety became popular for good reason: Teams perform better when people can admit mistakes, question assumptions, and challenge authority without fear of it following them into a performance review. But here’s the misconception: Psychological safety and accountability sit at opposite ends of the same dial. Turn safety up, the thinking goes, and standards come down. They don’t. The strongest teams have both; people feel safe enough to challenge one another and accountable enough to deliver.
Researchers studying five workplace settings, from hospital nurses to knowledge workers to four years of sales data across 229 retail stores, found that the relationship between psychological safety and performance wasn’t simply linear. At high levels of psychological safety without matching accountability, performance on routine work could decline; collective accountability substantially buffered that decline. The problem wasn’t that people felt too safe; it was safety operating without another ingredient the team needed.
A newer conceptual paper helps explain why. Psychological safety lowers the interpersonal risk of speaking up, which is what you want, but safety alone doesn’t create the discipline that keeps a team sharp: preparing for meetings, thinking carefully before weighing in, and taking shared norms seriously. That discipline comes from accountability.
Aviation offers a useful analogy. Sterile cockpit rules eliminate nonessential conversation during critical phases of flight, not safety-critical challenge. If something is wrong, you still speak. What changes isn’t how much psychological safety is allowed. It’s how tightly decision rights, operating discipline, and accountability are enforced.
Your AI pilots and early experiments need maximum candor. A junior engineer questioning a model or vendor claim should have every opportunity to be heard. Once a decision moves into production, incident response, or customer-facing execution, accountability tightens. Psychological safety doesn’t go down; accountability goes up.
Culture won’t automatically make people trust AI
Here is another set of assumptions in this area for IT leaders to challenge: that inclusive leadership, meaning leaders who stay approachable and treat employees’ input as worth acting on, builds psychological safety, that psychological safety makes people comfortable with AI, and that comfort with AI drives adoption. The evidence is messier.
One recent study found that inclusive leadership did improve psychological safety, but psychological safety itself did not significantly predict trust in AI. What mattered more was an individual’s ability to tolerate uncertainty. That matters because AI adoption is an uncertainty event: Capabilities shift every few months, outputs can be confidently right and impressively wrong, and the impact on jobs, workflows, and careers remains unclear. Employees are being asked to exercise judgment around systems whose behavior is probabilistic, not deterministic.
Another study of employees in South Korea found that AI adoption was associated with lower psychological safety, which in turn was associated with greater employee depression. Ethical leadership, meaning leaders who are transparent and fair about what’s changing, softened that relationship but didn’t eliminate it. Neither study is universal proof — different countries, samples, and methodologies matter — but together they raise an important question for CIOs.
A healthy culture may help people absorb the disruption AI creates without necessarily making them trust the technology itself. Those are two different problems. One is organizational: Do employees believe they can question what is happening around them? The other is psychological and technical: Can they work productively when the tool is probabilistic, and do they know when to trust it, challenge it, verify it, or ignore it? That requires more than another culture initiative. It requires AI literacy, judgment, and comfort operating under uncertainty.
Your people may be honest. Just not with you.
A 2026 series of scenario-based experiments with participants in China found that employees were more willing to voice concerns to an algorithmic leader than a human leader during cognitive tasks. Perceived fairness and psychological safety helped explain the difference. That doesn’t mean employees want robots for bosses — the effect didn’t hold in the same way for emotionally charged situations — but for analytical work the finding is worth paying attention to. One possible explanation feels remarkably human: An algorithm can’t embarrass you at the next staff meeting, downgrade your reputation with the executive team, or remember that you challenged its favorite project six months ago.
Now think about what happens as generative and agentic AI become embedded in everyday work. Somewhere in your company, an engineer may tell an AI assistant that the proposed architecture is flawed, explain why, work through three alternatives with the model, then walk into a meeting an hour later and nod along while a senior leader advocates for the original design.
The concern existed. The organization just never received it. AI didn’t suppress the dissent; your management system did.
You’ve created a psychologically safe chatbot sitting inside a psychologically unsafe org chart, and your AI adoption dashboard will never show you the difference. Both employees look like successful AI users, one using AI to accelerate work, the other using it as the only place they feel comfortable saying what they really think. Usage looks identical. Organizational health doesn’t.
We spend a lot of time asking whether employees trust AI. We may need to spend just as much time asking whether they trust people enough to repeat what they already told it.
What only you can fix
First, keep psychological safety constant and let accountability flex by phase. Push for aggressive challenge during strategy sessions, architecture discussions, AI pilots, and early experiments, and make disagreement cheap before decisions get expensive. Once execution starts, tighten decision rights and expectations without closing the channel for legitimate safety, ethical, or operational concerns.
Second, stop measuring psychological safety only through sentiment. Ask whether dissent changes decisions: what major initiative was redesigned because someone challenged an assumption; what AI pilot was narrowed, delayed, or killed because someone surfaced a risk early; what executive decision changed because somebody several layers down challenged the prevailing view. If nobody can remember one, another engagement survey isn’t going to tell you much.
Third, build a path for concerns raised to AI to reach the human decision system. That doesn’t mean reading employees’ private AI conversations; doing that would create exactly the surveillance problem that destroys candor. Instead, design mechanisms that let employees elevate a concern without reconstructing it from scratch: an anonymized escalation channel, a prompt-to-retrospective workflow, a mechanism to flag questionable AI outputs, or a structured path from an AI conversation into an architecture or investment review.
The design question is simple: Can an employee move a concern discovered in an AI conversation into the organization’s decision process with one deliberate action? Increasingly, that’s where the concern may show up first.
None of this argues against psychological safety. It argues against assuming psychological safety works in isolation, or that human trust and AI trust are the same problem. AI is creating a second conversation inside your organization, one that happens in meetings, reviews, and Teams calls, and one that happens quietly between an employee and a machine.
The real question isn’t whether your employees trust the AI. It’s whether AI has quietly become the place where they say the things your organization most needs to hear.
Second Opinion offers technology leaders an evidence-based perspective on their most consequential decisions. Khalid Kark brings 25 years as a trusted advisor, researcher, and operator. In an enterprise technology market crowded with noise, this column separates signal from spectacle.