Stockholm Syndrome at Work: What it Is, Symptoms, and What to Do

Her manager screamed at her in the Monday meeting, forwarded her work to the director on Wednesday with a glowing note, then left a “you’re my rock” message on Friday night. By the weekend, Maya had forgiven everything. She defended him to her sister, rehearsed excuses for his temper in the shower, and checked her phone for a text she half-dreaded and half-craved. Nobody had taken her hostage. She’d signed a contract and had a lanyard.

That strange mix of fear, loyalty, and confusion is what people mean when they search for Stockholm syndrome at work. It describes an employee who becomes emotionally attached to, or protective of, a boss or employer that hurts them, and who struggles to see the harm for what it is. The label is popular and imperfect. Clinically it isn’t a diagnosis, and the real science sits under other names such as trauma bonding, abusive supervision, and coercive control.

Why does it matter? Because the pattern keeps capable, decent people in damaging jobs for years, and because well-meaning friends keep saying “just quit,” as if it were that simple.

It rarely is.

This article explains what Stockholm syndrome at work really means, the symptoms to watch for, why the bond forms, and practical steps toward safety.

Is “Stockholm syndrome at work” a real diagnosis?

No. Stockholm syndrome has never been formally recognized as a psychiatric diagnosis, and it doesn’t appear in the DSM or the ICD, the two main diagnostic manuals. It’s a popular label for a pattern in which a person under threat or abuse develops positive feelings toward the person controlling them. Applying it to office life is a metaphor, a useful one only if we keep the limits in view.

That honesty matters. If you read “Stockholm syndrome at work” online and conclude you have a mental illness, you’ve drawn the wrong lesson. What’s being described is a normal human response to an abnormal situation: dependence on a powerful person, unpredictable treatment, and a nervous system doing what it can to stay safe.

Researchers prefer more precise terms. Trauma bonding refers to emotional attachment to a person who is intermittently abusive. Abusive supervision refers to employees’ perceptions of sustained hostile behavior from a supervisor, excluding physical contact. Coercive control refers to patterns of domination that limit someone’s freedom and choices. Each captures a slice of what the workplace version looks like.

Here’s a quick sense of how they differ:

• Tough management is demanding but fair, and you can tell where you stand.
• Abusive supervision involves sustained hostility such as ridicule, public humiliation, or silent treatment.
• Trauma bonding at work adds an emotional attachment that makes the abuse hard to name and the job hard to leave.
• A toxic culture spreads the pattern across a team, with leaders modeling or excusing it.

A caution for anyone with a boss they merely dislike. Disliking your manager, or finding them irritating, isn’t a trauma bond. A real bond develops under specific conditions, which we’ll cover, and usually involves intense, mixed feelings: fear, gratitude, shame, and hope, all at once.

So the term isn’t clinically valid, but the experience is real. If it describes your Monday mornings, the label matters less than the question underneath it: what is this job doing to me?

Where did the term Stockholm syndrome come from?

From a bank robbery in 1973. In August of that year, a convicted criminal named Jan-Erik Olsson took hostages at a bank on Norrmalmstorg Square in Stockholm. The standoff lasted about six days, and when it ended, some of the hostages appeared to defend their captors and distrust the police.

Swedish psychiatrist and criminologist Nils Bejerot, who advised the police, called the reaction “Norrmalmstorg syndrome.” The name Stockholm syndrome spread from there, picked up by journalists after cases such as the Patty Hearst kidnapping. It spread faster than the evidence did; the original account, including claims that a hostage was “brainwashed,” has been questioned by later writers, and some hostages said they simply did what felt safest.

American psychiatrist Frank Ochberg helped define the pattern for law enforcement agencies in the 1970s, including the FBI. In his writing on victims of terrorism, he described hostages’ positive feelings toward captors and hostility toward authorities, and he framed the response as a survival strategy, an unconscious effort to stay alive, not a disease. That framing is still the most useful part of the idea.

Picture the situation from the inside. A person holds power over whether you live, eat, or are allowed to move. Small kindnesses, a blanket or a cigarette or a reassuring word, feel enormous. Your brain looks for whatever makes the person less dangerous, and warmth toward them can be part of that.

Now map that to an office, carefully. No one in a quarterly review meeting is facing death. But power asymmetry is real: your boss can control your income, health insurance, reputation, visa status, or career prospects. Sudden praise can feel like relief out of proportion to its size.

Still, some caution. Many experts argue that Stockholm syndrome is rare in actual hostage situations and has been overapplied to everything from abusive marriages to cults to bad bosses. When a term stretches that far, it loses precision. That’s one reason to prefer “trauma bonding” and “coercive control” when talking about workplaces.

One detail worth keeping from the original case: nobody was weak or foolish. Their responses were predictable given the circumstances, which is a good principle for judging your own.

How does a trauma bond form with a boss?

Two ingredients do most of the work: a power imbalance and intermittent mistreatment that alternates with kindness. Psychologists Donald G. Dutton and Susan Painter described this in 1981 as “traumatic bonding,” first studying battered women and other relationships involving intermittent abuse.

In their theory, the person with less power becomes more dependent, feels less able to leave, and develops a sense of themselves as less capable. The abuse isn’t constant; it cycles with warmer periods, and those warmer periods create an intense, paradoxical attachment.

A later study by Dutton and Painter, published in 1993, followed women who had left abusive partners. It found that the intermittency of abuse and the power differential strongly predicted how attached they remained after separation. Relationship variables accounted for about 55 percent of the variance in attachment at the six-month follow-up, and attachment dropped by roughly 27 percent over those six months. The study was about intimate partners, not offices, so we’re extending the logic, not quoting a workplace finding.

Addiction counselor Patrick Carnes described a related idea in The Betrayal Bond, a book about attachments to people who exploit or harm us. Carnes argued that betrayal and intense emotional experience can create bonds that feel like loyalty, which can keep people tied to exploitative relationships. It’s a clinical-practice framework more than an experimentally tested model, so treat it as an informed lens.

Imagine how this plays out in a restaurant kitchen. Chef screams over a burnt sauce, throws a pan, and makes the new cook stay late alone. Two days later, he gives that same cook a compliment in front of the team, calls him “the future of this place,” and slides him an extra shift with better tips. The cook now reads the cruelty as a test and the compliment as the “real” chef. He’ll work harder for the next compliment.

Key conditions for a bond to develop at work:

1. Dependence: the boss controls pay, promotion, references, or visa sponsorship.
2. Unpredictability: you can’t tell whether today brings praise or punishment.
3. Isolation: the boss discourages outside friendships, or the culture treats complaints as disloyalty.
4. Shared “special” bond: the boss makes you feel chosen, a confidant, the one who “gets it.”
5. High stakes: the job is bound up with your identity, vocation, or family’s security.

None of this is a character flaw. It’s what happens when attachment systems built for survival meet a workplace that uses them.

Notice the loop. The harm creates need, the kindness satisfies the need, and the satisfaction deepens the attachment.

Why does a bad boss’s occasional kindness work so well?

Because unpredictable rewards are the stickiest kind. In behavioral psychology this is called intermittent reinforcement, and it’s among the most thoroughly studied principles in the field. Behavior reinforced only some of the time, on an unpredictable schedule, tends to persist longer than behavior reinforced every time.

The classic work here is B. F. Skinner and Charles Ferster’s 1957 book Schedules of Reinforcement, which documented how different reward schedules shape behavior in animals. Variable schedules, where payoffs arrive unpredictably, produced steady, persistent responding that was hard to extinguish. Slot machines are built on the same logic.

Transfer that to a workplace carefully. Humans are more complicated than pigeons, and nobody has run a controlled trial on bosses. But the principle fits what workers describe: you never know which version of your boss will walk in, so you stay on alert, working to earn the good version. Each good day feels like proof the bad days are an aberration, and you keep going back for it.

Think of Jonah (an illustrative composite), a junior analyst whose director goes cold for weeks, then suddenly sends a late-night message: “Your deck saved us today. Don’t tell anyone, but you’re the best I’ve got.” Jonah reads that note four times and sleeps better than he has all month. The next morning he’s anxious again, but now his anxiety has a purpose: earn another message.

Several features of workplace life amplify the effect:

• Ambiguous feedback leaves you guessing whether you’re valued.
• Praise tied to loyalty (“I can only trust you”) makes the reward feel intimate.
• Scarcity of warmth in the culture makes small gestures feel huge.
• Relief after dread hits harder than steady kindness would.

The relief point is worth sitting with. A calm word after days of fear produces a surge of safety that your brain can mistake for closeness. It’s the nervous system, not the relationship, doing the talking.

This also explains a baffling feature of toxic jobs: why the mistreated sometimes become the boss’s fiercest defenders. Fierce defense is the expected outcome of an unpredictable reward pattern, not evidence of stupidity.

And when you describe it out loud to an outsider, the sentence sounds absurd: “He’s awful, but when he’s kind, it means everything.” Absurd? Not to anyone who’s lived it.

What are the signs and symptoms of Stockholm syndrome at work?

The main signs include defending a boss who mistreats you, feeling grateful for crumbs, hiding or minimizing the abuse, and finding it hard to imagine leaving. There’s no official checklist, because the condition isn’t a diagnosis, but the following patterns come up repeatedly in descriptions of workplace trauma bonds and abusive supervision.

Look first at your thoughts and loyalty:

• You make excuses (“he’s under so much pressure,” “that’s just how she is”).
• You feel guilty when you criticize your boss, even privately.
• You treat rare kindness as proof of their “real” character.
• You believe nobody else would put up with them, or with you.
• You feel special or chosen, and a little superior to coworkers who’ve been pushed out.
• You protect the boss from consequences, covering for mistakes or hiding the behavior from HR.
• You’ve started to doubt your own memory (“maybe it wasn’t that bad”).

Then your body and mood. Chronic hypervigilance, Sunday-night dread, trouble sleeping, stomach problems, tension headaches, and the sensation of scanning your boss’s face for clues all show up in people under sustained workplace hostility. Research on abusive supervision links it with psychological distress, depression, anxiety, and emotional exhaustion. Notice the phrase “links with”: most studies are correlational, so the direction of cause isn’t always clear.

Next, your behavior: working unpaid overtime to avoid a blowup, checking messages at midnight, pulling away from friends because they “don’t understand,” or noticing that your whole social life has shrunk to work and recovery from work. People sometimes also lose confidence in skills they once took for granted.

Consider Elena (an illustrative composite), a nurse manager whose hospital director belittles her in staff meetings and then asks her to dinner “to talk.” She declines the dinner, but she keeps a thank-you card from him in her desk drawer, and when her partner suggests she apply elsewhere, she snaps at him. The card is the clue. It’s a keepsake from the person who also makes her dread her shifts.

No single sign proves anything. A tough season at work can produce a few of them. But if you tick several, they’ve lasted months, and they’re tangled up with fear of one particular person, that’s worth taking seriously.

A useful gut check: would you accept this treatment of a friend? If you’d tell your friend to run, your standards may have shifted without your noticing.

Is it a bad boss, or is something worse going on?

Look at pattern, severity, and power. A bad boss can be disorganized, impatient, or clumsy at feedback. Abusive supervision, a term coined in research by Bennett J. Tepper in 2000, means a subordinate’s perception of a supervisor’s sustained hostile verbal and nonverbal behavior, excluding physical contact. The word “sustained” matters; one bad day doesn’t count.

Tepper developed the Abusive Supervision Scale, which asks employees how often their supervisor does things like ridicule them, tell them their thoughts are stupid, give them the silent treatment, or blame them for the supervisor’s own mistakes. In his 2000 study of employees, perceived abuse was associated with lower job and life satisfaction, weaker organizational commitment, more conflict between work and family, and greater psychological distress. His data also suggested that the damage was greater among employees who stayed because they felt they couldn’t easily leave, though that finding came from one sample and needs cautious reading.

Later reviews echo the pattern: abusive supervision is linked to mental and physical health problems, worse job attitudes, and more counterproductive behavior. Still, most of this research relies on employee self-report, which captures perceptions, and perceptions can be shaped by mood and context. It’s strong evidence, not perfect evidence.

The table is a rough guide, not a diagnosis. Some bosses are mostly decent with a destructive streak, and some workplaces reward volatility without anyone intending harm.

Also watch for illegal conduct. Harassment based on race, sex, disability, age, or other protected characteristics, retaliation for complaints, and unsafe working conditions can fall under employment or workplace safety law, and laws vary by country and region. If any of that is happening, talking to an employment lawyer, union representative, or the relevant government agency can matter as much as therapy.

The question isn’t “Is my boss a nice person?” It’s “Does this person’s behavior consistently harm me, and does my situation make it hard to leave?”

Why is it so hard to leave a job that hurts?

Because the barriers are real, not imagined. Money, health insurance, visa sponsorship, a tight job market, family obligations, and a career identity tied to the role are all legitimate reasons to stay. On top of those practical walls sit psychological ones.

The most important is probably cognitive dissonance, the discomfort of holding two conflicting beliefs, formalized by Leon Festinger in his 1957 book A Theory of Cognitive Dissonance. If you believe “I’m a smart, self-respecting person” and also “I keep working for someone who humiliates me,” something has to give. Changing the job is costly, so many people quietly change the story: “He’s tough because he cares,” “I’m learning a lot,” “It’s not that bad.”

Dissonance reduction is automatic, not a conscious decision to deceive yourself. And the more you’ve sacrificed (late nights, birthdays missed, a reputation staked on his projects), the more you need the sacrifice to have meant something. Psychologists call this escalation of commitment, or in everyday language, the sunk cost trap.

Other forces that pin people in place:

• Identity fusion: in jobs tied to mission (healthcare, teaching, nonprofits, creative fields), leaving feels like betraying the cause.
• Erosion of confidence: after months of belittling, you may sincerely believe no one else would hire you.
• Fear of retaliation: bad references, rumors, or vengeful behavior can be real risks in small industries.
• Hope: the memory of the good version of your boss keeps the door open in your mind.
• Exhaustion: job searching requires energy that chronic stress has already taken.

Picture Tomas (an illustrative composite), a skilled welder on a work visa whose supervisor docks pay for imagined mistakes, then offers an extra week’s cash “because I look after my guys.” Tomas can’t afford to lose the sponsorship. His gratitude is partly strategy and partly feeling. He’s not weak; he’s cornered.

Which brings up a point most advice misses. “Just quit” ignores structure. Realistic exits are staged: documenting, saving, quietly applying, building outside contacts, and leaving when you have a landing place. Leaving well often takes months, and that’s not failure.

How does chronic workplace abuse affect the mind and body?

Sustained mistreatment where you can’t escape resembles what psychiatrist Judith Herman described in her book Trauma and Recovery as prolonged, repeated trauma. Herman argued that such trauma occurs in conditions of captivity, where the victim can’t easily flee and the perpetrator controls much of daily life, and she proposed that it produces a pattern broader than single-event post-traumatic stress, often called complex trauma.

That doesn’t mean a bad job equals a prison camp; the stakes and severity are very different. Herman’s point is about shared psychological mechanisms: the perpetrator becomes the most powerful figure in the victim’s life, and methods of control, such as unpredictability, humiliation, and isolation, are designed to disempower and disconnect. She also noted the perpetrator can become a source of both fear and solace, which is the core of a trauma bond.

What can chronic workplace abuse look like in a person? Reports and studies associate sustained abusive supervision with anxiety, depression, burnout, sleep problems, and emotional exhaustion. Some people develop symptoms that resemble post-traumatic stress: intrusive replays of events, jumpiness at the sound of a manager’s voice, avoidance of reminders, numbness. Others experience shame, a damaged sense of competence, and trouble trusting any future employer.

The body keeps its own accounting. Chronic stress is linked with high blood pressure, digestive trouble, headaches, and disrupted sleep, though attributing a particular physical condition to a particular job takes careful medical judgment.

It can also seep into home life. Partners and children often see the weekend irritability, the rumination at dinner, the flinch when the phone buzzes with a work message. Some employees drink more, or rely on sleeping pills, to blunt the strain.

Herman proposed a three-stage model of recovery from trauma: establishing safety, then remembrance and mourning, then reconnection with ordinary life. It was built for severe trauma, but its sequence is useful for work trauma too: safety comes first, before analysis, before forgiveness, before big life decisions.

That order matters, because many people jump straight to “processing” while still sitting in the dangerous room.

Safety first. Everything else follows.

What can you do if you recognize yourself in this?

Start small, and start with safety and clarity, not confrontation. You don’t have to resolve everything in a week. A workable sequence looks like this:

1. Name the pattern privately. Write down what happens, with dates: the insults, the praise, the sequence. Seeing the cycle on paper often breaks the fog.
2. Keep records. Save emails, messages, performance reviews, and notes of incidents with times and witnesses, stored somewhere not controlled by your employer. This protects you if you later report or leave.
3. Reconnect outside work. Tell one trusted person the full story, not the edited version. Isolation is fuel for these bonds, and outside perspective is the antidote.
4. Check your options. Learn your company’s HR procedures, union or employee assistance program, and legal protections. Know that HR primarily serves the organization, so use it with eyes open.
5. Build an exit runway. Update your resume, quietly contact former colleagues, and put money aside where you can. Even small steps shift your sense from trapped to choosing.
6. Set micro-boundaries. Stop answering messages at midnight when it isn’t an emergency, and practice neutral, factual replies that don’t beg for approval.

One tactic from the research is worth mentioning carefully. A review of abusive supervision suggests employees sometimes reduce mistreatment by becoming instrumental to a supervisor’s goals, which changes the power balance. That’s a survival tactic, not a solution, and it can deepen dependence. If you use it, treat it as a bridge to an exit, not a plan to stay forever.

Watch the grief that comes with change. When you start pulling back, your boss may ramp up charm (“love-bombing”) or threats. Expect a pang of guilt either way. That reaction is the bond talking, not proof you’re making a mistake.

For colleagues and friends who see this from outside: skip the ultimatum. Ask open questions (“How are you sleeping?”), name what you’ve noticed without attacking the boss, and keep the door open. People rarely leave because they’re told to; they leave when they feel safe enough to see clearly.

What’s one small, private step you could take this week?

When should you get professional help, and what kind?

Get support if the job is affecting your sleep, mood, health, or relationships for more than a couple of weeks, if you feel numb, panicky, or hopeless, or if you can’t stop defending someone who hurts you. You don’t need to wait until you’ve “had enough.” A therapist, psychologist, licensed counselor, or your primary care doctor (GP in the UK, Ireland, Australia, and New Zealand) can all be reasonable starting points.

Look for a clinician with experience in trauma, workplace stress, or coercive control. Approaches with good evidence for trauma-related symptoms include trauma-focused cognitive behavioral therapy and EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing); cognitive behavioral therapy is also well supported for depression and anxiety. A good therapist won’t push you to quit before you’re ready, and won’t treat the bond as your fault.

Things you can say in a first appointment: “I think my boss’s behavior is affecting my mental health,” “I find myself defending someone who treats me badly,” or simply “I can’t switch off from work.” You don’t need the perfect vocabulary.

Many workplaces offer an employee assistance program with a few confidential counseling sessions. Coverage details vary, so check what your employer actually offers before relying on it. Occupational health teams, union representatives, and employment lawyers can help with the practical and legal side.

If things feel dark, don’t wait. Thoughts of ending your life or harming yourself are a reason to reach out right now:

• US: call or text 988 (988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline); emergency 911.
• Canada: call or text 9-8-8; emergency 911.
• UK: Samaritans 116 123; emergency 999.
• Ireland: Samaritans 116 123 or Pieta 1800 247 247; emergency 112 or 999.
• Australia: Lifeline 13 11 14; emergency 000.
• New Zealand: 1737 (free call or text); emergency 111.

Physical danger, stalking, or threats from a boss call for emergency services and, usually, the police.

Recovery from a trauma bond isn’t a straight line. Many people miss the boss after leaving, feel disloyal, or replay the best moments. That’s normal and fades with time and support, and the 1993 research on post-separation attachment shows how attachment can drop over months.

FAQs about Stockholm Syndrome at Work

Can you really have Stockholm syndrome with a boss?

Sort of, with an important caveat. Stockholm syndrome isn’t a recognized diagnosis, and it was first described in hostage situations that involve a threat to life. In workplaces, the equivalent is better described as trauma bonding or a response to abusive supervision. People can and do develop strong, confusing attachments to bosses who treat them badly, particularly when the boss has power over their livelihood and alternates cruelty with kindness. So the experience is real, even if the label is borrowed. If it fits your life, use the term as a starting point for talking about it, not as a medical conclusion.

What are the main signs of a trauma bond at work?

The most common signs are defending or excusing a boss who mistreats you, feeling intense relief or gratitude when they’re kind, hiding their behavior from others, and doubting your own memory of what happened. You may also feel anxious on Sunday nights, hypervigilant around them, and isolated from friends who don’t “get it.” Many people say they feel special or chosen, even as they feel afraid. No single sign is proof. Look at the overall pattern and how long it has lasted, and ask whether you’d accept the same treatment of someone you love.

Why do I defend my toxic boss?

Several forces push in that direction. Unpredictable kindness creates powerful attachment through intermittent reinforcement. Cognitive dissonance makes it uncomfortable to believe you’re staying with someone harmful, so your mind finds reasons to justify them. Dependence on the job for money or status raises the stakes of seeing the truth. And chronic stress can dull your judgment and confidence. Defending a boss doesn’t mean you approve of the abuse; often it’s a way to keep things bearable. Talking to someone outside the workplace usually helps you hear how the situation sounds to others.

Is Stockholm syndrome in the DSM?

No. It isn’t listed in the DSM-5 or in the ICD, and there are no widely accepted diagnostic criteria for it. Psychiatrist Nils Bejerot coined the phrase “Norrmalmstorg syndrome” after a 1973 bank siege in Stockholm, and the term spread through news coverage. Researchers today usually talk about trauma bonding, coercive control, and the effects of prolonged abuse rather than a single syndrome. The absence of a diagnosis doesn’t make your experience less valid; clinicians can still treat the anxiety, depression, or post-traumatic symptoms that come with a harmful workplace.

How is a trauma bond different from loyalty to a good manager?

Healthy loyalty is built on consistent, fair treatment, and it survives disagreement. You can say no, challenge decisions, or leave without fearing punishment. A trauma bond forms around unpredictability and power: you feel anxious and relieved in cycles, you walk on eggshells, and you protect the boss from consequences. A useful test is how you’d feel about stepping back. If you’d feel sad but fine, it’s probably ordinary attachment. If the idea fills you with dread, guilt, or panic, the bond may be doing more work than the relationship deserves.

Should I quit right away?

Not necessarily, and not without a plan. Quitting abruptly can be the right move when your safety or health is in danger, but it can also create financial stress that makes recovery harder. Most people do better with a staged exit: document incidents, build savings, quietly job hunt, and line up support. If the behavior involves discrimination, harassment, or retaliation, talk to an employment lawyer or the relevant agency before resigning, since leaving can affect your options. What matters most is that your decision comes from clear thinking, not from either loyalty or panic.

Can a therapist help with a toxic work situation?

Yes. A therapist can help you identify patterns, rebuild confidence, and treat symptoms such as anxiety, depression, or trauma reactions. They can also help you plan how to set boundaries or leave, and process the guilt that often follows. Approaches such as cognitive behavioral therapy and trauma-focused therapies have good evidence for many of these difficulties. Choose someone comfortable with workplace stress or abuse dynamics, and expect to be asked about your safety, sleep, and support network early on. A therapist can’t change your boss, but they can change how much room the situation takes up in your head.

Will I stop feeling attached once I leave?

Usually, yes, though it takes time. Studies of people leaving abusive partners found that attachment to the former partner declined by roughly a quarter over six months, so the feelings don’t vanish instantly but do weaken. Expect waves: missing the good moments, doubting whether it was really so bad, or feeling a jolt when you see their name. Cutting contact where you can, staying connected to supportive people, and keeping your written records handy for reality checks all help. If symptoms like nightmares, panic, or constant rumination linger for months, a trauma-informed therapist can speed things up.

Bibliography

• Carnes, P. (1997). The betrayal bond: Breaking free of exploitive relationships. Health Communications.
• Dutton, D. G., & Painter, S. L. (1981). Traumatic bonding: The development of emotional attachments in battered women and other relationships of intermittent abuse. Victimology, 6(1-4), 139-155.
• Dutton, D. G., & Painter, S. (1993). Emotional attachments in abusive relationships: A test of traumatic bonding theory. Violence and Victims, 8(2), 105-120.
• Ferster, C. B., & Skinner, B. F. (1957). Schedules of reinforcement. Appleton-Century-Crofts.
• Festinger, L. (1957). A theory of cognitive dissonance. Stanford University Press.
• Herman, J. L. (1992). Trauma and recovery: The aftermath of violence, from domestic abuse to political terror. Basic Books.
• Ochberg, F. M. (1978). The victim of terrorism: Psychiatric considerations. Terrorism, 1(2), 147-168.
• Tepper, B. J. (2000). Consequences of abusive supervision. Academy of Management Journal, 43(2), 178-190.