Burnout Isn’t a Personal Failing - It’s a Systemic One (Part 2)

The System Isn’t Broken—It Was Built This Way

In Part 1 of this blog series: When the System Breaks You (and Then Blames You for It) I shared my experience of burn out whilst working for a values-driven organisation that claimed to centre inclusion.

I shared how asking for support led to gaslighting, isolation, and escalation —and what it ultimately cost.

Not because it’s unique—but because it’s disturbingly common for disabled, neurodivergent, and otherwise marginalised people

This post discusses why these experiences are not a sign the system is failing.

They’re a sign the system is doing exactly what it was built to do: protect power and maintain the status quo by:

1. Rewarding conformity to ableist expectations of productivity, communication, and independence

2. Rebranding silence as professionalism

3. Punishing those who speak out

When Inclusion Is Performative and Belonging Is Conditional

Many workplaces pride themselves on being “inclusive".

Until someone asserts their rights - or names a systemic problem everyone's been ignoring - and it becomes clear that inclusion and belonging are conditional.

 We support you… as long as you don’t challenge the structure.

We value neurodivergence… as long as you don’t show the parts that make us uncomfortable.

We care about mental health… as long as you manage it quietly.

But when organisations say all the right things but do none of the work it’s not just hypocrisy—it feels like betrayal.

Because we believe you.

We believe the website copy. The mission statement. The “we value lived experience” tagline.

We bring our full selves  - because we’re told we can - and then we blame ourselves when the truth emerges:

• Don’t be too critical

• Don’t make anyone too uncomfortable

• Don’t disrupt power

But we need to stop treating exclusion as an individual anomaly and start recognising it as a key feature of the system.

Telling the truth still feels dangerous Because - for many people - it is.

But the only way to make real change happen is to name the problem. And keep naming it.

The Cost of Being 'Reasonable'

One of the most insidious dynamics for disabled and neurodivergent employees is the demand to be “reasonable.”

We’re told:

• Don’t take things personally

• Don't  escalate things too quickly

• Don't be too sensitive, too direct, or too much

We’re taught to self-sanitize under the guise of “professionalism,” while our peers are free to have bad days or snap under pressure.

And when - after months (or years) of quietly coping - we burnout, it’s framed as a personal failing.

Our responses to ableist expectations are pathologised — and exclusion becomes invisible.

Epistemic Injustice: When Marginalised People Aren’t Believed, Heard, or Invited to the Table Because of Who They Are.

Miranda Fricker's epistemic injustice highlights the harm done(to individuals and communities) lived experience knowledge from non-dominant groups is dismissed, minimised, when or shut out.

It shows up in three main ways:

1. Testimonial Injustice - Not Being Believed

This happens when our accounts are dismissed or downplayed because of stereotypes, biases and assumptions

In the workplace, it looks like:

• A neurodivergent person saying they’re not coping — and being told they’re overreacting

• A disabled staff member identifying structural harm — and being labelled “negative”

• Someone sharing lived experience — and being dismissed as “too close to the issue”

Your insight is treated as less credible — not because of what you said, but because it was you who said it.

 2. Hermeneutical Injustice -  Not Having the Language to Explain the Harm

This is the injustice that happens before you even speak - because the language to describe your experience doesn’t exist or isn’t recognised within the systems you work and live.

It’s what happens when:

• A trauma response is labelled an overreaction because there’s no shared framework for how systemic harm shows up for marginalised people.

• You’re told you're “too intense” or “unprofessional” when you’re experiencing sensory overload

• You internalise shame for “not coping,” because no one has told you that executive dysfunction isn't a  character flaw

Hermeneutical injustice isolates you and leaves you doubting your own experience. This is why lived experience stories matter.

They create shared meaning by giving voice to what others are still trying to name. They make the invisible visible - and help people see they're not alone.

(original source unknown -contact for credit)

3. Participatory Injustice -  Not Being Invited to the Table

Even when we know what’s happening, and have the language to explain it, we're often still excluded from the spaces where decisions are made.

When our insights and expertise are denied access to power it is participatory injustice.

It looks like:

• Being consulted after decisions are already made

• Being brought in for “lived experience” panels with no actual authority

• Watching others speak about inclusion while those most affected are left out of the conversation.

Assumptions about our capacity are often used to justify our exclusion. And even when we are invited, the invitation is often conditional.

What Happens When We Really Listen?

Epistemic injustice shows up when people say things like: 

"We don’t need more stories—we need solutions,”

When what they really mean is: 

“I’m not ready to hear the truth because it makes me uncomfortable.”

But that's the point.

Stories of lived-experience should make you uncomfortable. Because that discomfort means you’re paying attention.

So instead of turning away, sit with it.

Listen to what it’s telling you—about your workplace, your team, and your role in the system.

Because only once we name the injustice can we begin to imagine what real solutions look like.

If we want to move beyond performative inclusion, we need to rethink how workplaces are designed, led, and sustained. So, in Part 3, I’ll explore what that can actually look like in practice.