Indian entrepreneur Pratham Jindal’s policy of letting staff roast him highlights a growing trend in workplace transparency, raising questions about corporate candor, boundaries, and boss-employee power dynamics.
There is something faintly alarming about a boss who invites employees to insult him. Most employees spend their working lives trying not to do precisely that. Yet Pratham Jindal, a 25-year-old entrepreneur from Chandigarh, has apparently decided that being roasted by his staff is an excellent management practice. Jindal, who runs a content business called Praper, recently attracted attention by describing his unconventional workplace philosophy.
Employees can openly make fun of him. Those who sacrifice a day off receive double pay. Company numbers are discussed transparently, month-end parties are taken seriously, and troublesome clients may be shown the door rather than inflicted upon employees. It sounds suspiciously like an office designed by employees rather than management consultants. In most Indian offices, telling the boss that his latest strategy is ridiculous requires considerable courage, preferably another job offer, and perhaps a resignation letter already drafted.
At Jindal’s company, apparently, it qualifies as team bonding. But the invitation raises an awkward question. Just how honest can employees afford to be when the person laughing at their jokes also signs their salary cheques? Consider the possibilities. A junior executive observes that the boss’s presentations are unnecessarily long. Everyone laughs. Another suggests that his leadership style resembles a malfunctioning GPS, constantly recalculating without reaching anywhere.
More laughter. Then somebody remarks that the company might perform better if its founder spent less time posting about its wonderful culture on social media. At this point, the temperature in the room might change. The difficulty with corporate candour is that it’s usually encouraged by precisely those who have the power to punish it. Leaders routinely declare that their doors are always open, although employees quickly learn that some opinions are best left outside.
Organisations have developed elaborate rituals to overcome this problem. There are anonymous surveys, town halls, skip-level meetings, and feedback sessions. Employees are urged to speak truth to power, provided the truth is expressed constructively, respectfully, and preferably without identifying anyone responsible. The result is a peculiar corporate language in which incompetence becomes an opportunity for improvement, confusion becomes alignment challenges, and a disastrous decision becomes a valuable learning experience.
It allows criticism to arrive disguised as entertainment. The boss can laugh without admitting a mistake, and employees can complain without appearing disloyal. Yet even this apparent democracy has limits. A joke about the boss’s haircut is harmless. A joke about his inability to make decisions is potentially career-limiting. The distinction depends less on the joke than on the boss’s capacity to tolerate it.
To his credit, Jindal’s other practices suggest that his approach extends beyond office theatrics. Paying double for sacrificed holidays and protecting employees from unreasonable clients are more substantial gestures than installing a table-tennis table or distributing motivational merchandise. Still, the real test of openness is not whether employees can ridicule their boss at a designated gathering.
It is whether they can disagree with him during an important meeting, challenge an expensive mistake, or question an unrealistic deadline without calculating the consequences. For Indian firms, accustomed to elaborate hierarchies and considerable deference to seniority, this is an especially interesting experiment. The traditional boss expects respect as a condition of employment. The modern boss increasingly wants affection as well.
Perhaps Jindal has discovered a way of making authority less intimidating. Or perhaps roasting will become another corporate ritual, complete with guidelines, approved jokes, and a feedback form assessing whether everyone enjoyed themselves. Naturally, participation would be voluntary, though attendance might be compulsory. The ultimate irony would be an HR department issuing a warning to an employee for taking the roasting session too seriously.
