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The cultural code of productivity: what the Japanese protocol, American competition, and British flexibility teach us
about caring for people
What do the Japanese protocol, American race for results, and British flexibility have in common? At first glance — nothing. But for Tatiana Knyazeva, these are not abstract concepts, but systems of work experienced firsthand, each answering the question: how to achieve outstanding results without destroying people in the process? Having transitioned from burnout in a culture of "hyper-productivity" to consciously building her life and career, Tatiana studied what wellbeing means in practice, not just in corporate presentations.
In this article — her personal survival and thriving map in modern business, which will help you distinguish genuine care for employees from a mere checkbox and build your own recovery system.
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Tatiana's career path at Miki Travel began as a negotiator. Initially, she worked overtime, passively hoping that management would notice her successes and offer a promotion. The realization came later: one must actively build a career. She asked for a promotion herself, which marked the beginning of her journey into management.
Tatiana recalls that professional growth was not easy: she had to learn on the go, especially in leadership and self-presentation — skills that were not taught before. The Japanese specifics, with its many rules and protocols, added to the challenges. As Tatiana admits, after her first year, she thought: "God, I can't work here!". Patience and self-discipline helped her adapt.
Tatiana's experience demonstrates how corporate culture can look different even within the same international company:
"In London, in our company, the idea of constant overtime is a myth," Tatiana assures. "We have a lot of flexibility: you can start your day between 7 and 11 am, and we are only in the office once a week. For example, I work from 7 am to 3:30 pm. There are other perks: a gym, insurance, training. People stay for a long time, many, like me, leave and return.
But the picture changes dramatically in Japan. "In the Tokyo office, everyone starts at 8 am and finishes very late, and we were surprised to find couches for overnight stays," she shares. "It turned out that those who live far away often stay overnight at work. And once during lunch, Japanese colleagues, despite our international delegation, rushed back to the office at one o'clock because that’s the rule. In such a situation, we would have all attributed it to a meeting with partners."
Another cultural shock — hierarchy. "Business cards are presented with both hands, and you must immediately sort them by rank," Tatiana recalls. "And this is incredibly difficult when you see people for the first time and don’t know Japanese. And yes, there are still very few women in leadership roles there."
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Later, after moving from a Japanese corporation to an American one, Tatiana encountered a radically different culture: the new work environment seemed to her a "complete mess" compared to the Japanese orderliness.
"My entry into this company was not accidental, but it wasn’t my conscious choice either. After returning from maternity leave, I wasn’t looking for a job — a recruiter found me and spent six months persuading me to consider this offer. In the end, it turned out to be one that I couldn’t refuse."
The specifics of the American company according to Tatiana's experience:
Tatiana realized: no amount of money can restore love for life and inner balance. This experience only confirmed the statistics: in such aggressive environments, whether a startup or a corporation with a "startup" mentality, a person's resources are depleted within 1-3 years of continuous "24/7" work.
When asked about the most effective culture for sales, Tatiana is sure: there is no universal answer. An aggressive "squeeze and replace" model, like in American companies, provides a short-term spike in productivity but inevitably leads to burnout and value conflicts.
The main conclusion: the choice between a startup and a corporation is not about finding the "right" place, but determining what you need at a specific stage of your career.
When it comes to health, of course, the foundation is personal responsibility, believes Tatiana. Taking care of oneself and being healthy is a choice of the individual. But the company can contribute by creating an environment that supports that choice.
"As a manager, I influence what I can control: I provide a comfortable travel schedule (choosing convenient flights, taxis to the airport) and address overload issues by redistributing tasks or expanding the team. However, I cannot be responsible for an employee's personal choices, such as regular sleep deprivation due to binge-watching series. Their health is their responsibility."
As an example, Tatiana shares which initiatives have been implemented at Miki Travel:
In fact, the corporate care system is already functioning, but it has a paradoxical side. Tatiana gives a vivid example: on one of the corporate days in the office, employees, upon opening their emails, shared in surprise: "Did you see, we received 30 emails?", "And you got 10?". In these emails, they were met with mandatory wellbeing training.
The company bombarded employees with a barrage of courses — from workspace assessments to lighting rules and monitor settings. "The number of such mandatory trainings is simply overwhelming," notes Tatiana. "You sit there thinking: 'God, when am I going to get through all this?'" Meanwhile, the HR department insists that all this is done for their wellbeing.
On one hand, the initiative comes from above and has good intentions. On the other hand, the formality of execution nullifies the benefits. "For example, I took a training on how to sit properly and where the mouse should fall," she shares. "You do it because 'you have to', not because you thoughtfully study the material." Thus, good intentions turn into an additional bureaucratic burden.
According to Tatiana, the effectiveness of corporate care hinges on scale and sincerity of intent. In small companies and startups, where management is genuinely interested in the team's well-being, wellbeing can be organic.
"They can organize team-building activities related to wellbeing — outings to parks, bike rides, retreats. And the key is to do this during working hours. If you suggest going fishing on a Saturday, many will think: 'Why would I want that?' But if it’s instead of a workday — people will be more willing to go.
However, in large corporations, she says, it often boils down to a 'checkbox'. "Even beneficial initiatives, like leadership courses, drown in a flood of mandatory trainings. When you have 15 such courses plus a ton of work, you simply don’t find the time for them. HR can report: 'We offered this'. But who checks how you applied it? In a large company, that’s impossible.
A solution might be to abandon a directive approach in favor of gentle nudging. "Some companies, realizing that mandates don’t work, use hidden initiatives. Like step-challenges."
A vivid example of meaningful care, Tatiana considers sponsoring a bike ride from London to Brighton. "The company sponsored 12 employees. It was a great team-building experience that truly showed the company cares about us." She also notes that other trendy initiatives, like those in sustainability, often remain at the level of "words, presentations, and pictures", without offering real actions.
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Care for mental health is gradually reaching a new level. A striking example is fully paid Sick-leave for Mental Health Issues, which can be arranged in the Netherlands. Tatiana notes that such a system is seriously regulated: "You must check in, have regular meetings with a doctor and a manager. No one is rushing you.
"Similar practices, she says, exist in the UK, and attitudes towards them are changing. "Before, it either didn’t exist, or people talked little about it. Now, not only do they talk about it, but they also act."
A turning point was her personal experience. "Last year, for the first time in my life, I took sick leave. I reached a point where I started having panic attacks, and I realized I couldn’t work. My brain was so overwhelmed that I couldn’t physically live normally."In this crisis, the company provided her significant support, granting a month of paid sick leave with a gradual return — for another 6 weeks she worked at 50% capacity.
This experience changed not only her approach to work: Tatiana notices that management pays more attention to this. Just as colleagues do: after her case, two employees in her team began to view this issue differently.
Maxim: Tatiana, looking back, what signs of burnout would you notice now? Could it have been prevented?
Tatiana: You know, there’s no straightforward answer. On one hand, I found myself in a situation where after a wave of layoffs during the pandemic, the workload remained the same, while the team shrank by four times. There was a catastrophic shortage of people. I was literally screaming that I needed resources, plus I took on a new, challenging region — Switzerland, which required diving into a huge amount of new information.
The workload was colossal, but I didn’t realize it. I thought: "I’ll quickly gather myself and do everything." Even now, knowing the outcome, I can’t imagine how I could have acted differently — objectively, there were no people.
But the main reason, I think, lies within me. Like many active people, I am wired in such a way that until my body stops me, I don’t hear its signals.The precursors were there: my hands started going numb. I went to doctors, but they all shrugged and said I was perfectly healthy. Then panic attacks began. I tried to act rationally: "It’s okay, I’ll see a therapist, take some practices, and cope." But my body, apparently, decided: "Until we lay you down, you won’t stop."
The point of no return was a powerful panic attack that physically paralyzed me. I had to call an ambulance. And the doctors in the ambulance said: "Girl, if you don’t stop, it will be bad." That was the wake-up call after which I surrendered and went on sick leave.
That month was a strange experience for me. Instead of working on my project Kid2Success, I was gardening and decluttering my home — doing something with my hands while my brain completely refused to work.
Now I understand why this happened. For three years straight, my schedule was the same: from 7 am to 4 pm — corporate work, then until 11 pm — my project and numerous courses (Harvard Business School, certifications in negotiations and marketing). Weekends were also spent on the project. I enjoyed it and it didn’t cause me discomfort, but my brain was slowly boiling. The moment of truth was realizing that I was watching a training course and couldn’t remember anything. I hit a ceiling.
The main takeaway I now share: Yes, it’s important to engage in what you love. But even more important is to remember about focus and your health. You have only one. Now I consciously reduced the pace of my project, focusing on corporate work. I show by my own example what a life on the edge leads to. Earlier, people would ask me: "Tanya, how do you manage to do everything?" Now I respond: "I managed a lot. But the question is — at what cost?"
"Negotiations have long ceased to be stressful for me; I love them," says Tatiana. She offers her clients, who are just starting to negotiate and feel fear, an effective system.
"Harvard research shows that the most common associations with the word 'negotiations' are 'stress' and 'fear'. Therefore, the first thing we work on is changing the mindset so that negotiations become something enjoyable for you: a game, excitement."
Just before the meeting starts, it’s important to shift focus from anxiety to something neutral. Tatiana suggests several simple yet effective methods:
"50% of your success is preparation," emphasizes Tatiana. "If you have a sheet with written theses, questions, and arguments that you can keep in front of you as a cheat sheet, it gives you immense confidence."
Thus, the formula for confidence in negotiations looks like this: the right mindset + switching techniques + thorough preparation.
Challenging business trips with 20-30 meetings a day require a conscious approach to energy. Tatiana shares her refined system, which consists of three phases: conscious preparation, total recovery, and resource rituals.
A week before an intense period, Tatiana consciously slows down. "I don’t attend any unnecessary meetings, I try to preserve and accumulate resources. On weekends, I don’t participate in any activities; I can say I close myself off and remain silent." This allows her to approach the start at peak strength.
Immediately after returning from a trip, working on adrenaline, there follows a period of complete "disconnection". "I arrive and lie down. In the literal sense of the word. I can spend weekends not getting out of my pajamas, just reading books, lounging, watching movies. And again, I remain silent." Only after this "hibernation mode" does she gradually return to her normal rhythm.
A key skill acquired after burnout is the ability to replenish energy through simple rituals, the main one being contemplation without purpose. "Earlier, I used every minute productively: I would lie on an acupressure mat — listening to a podcast, walking — also listening to something. Now I’ve learned to simply contemplate".
For her, water became a powerful resource. "Water helps me a lot. After presentations, I go for a walk without headphones, preferably near water. I can just go to the ocean for a day, walking and looking at the water".
She got the idea for her ritual at a luxury tourism exhibition in Cannes, where she learned about the concept of "sleep butler". "I arrived and thought: that’s cool! And I introduced a ritual before sleep — 10 minutes of yoga stretching. I did this every day for a month. Introduce some one ritual for yourself — lying on a mat, reading. It’s a very cool, very effective story."
Awareness of healthy lifestyle rules rarely turns into habit. Everyone knows the benefits of exercise, but few find time for it. "The only thing that works here is discipline," emphasizes Tatiana.
Her personal journey towards conscious slowing down has not been easy. "I have been working with a therapist for two years now, but I still don’t like the word 'slowing down' — it feels boring to me. Even two minutes to just lie down and scan my body is hard. I have to be very disciplined because I will always find something 'more important'."
