This post is for those of you who – like me – consider power part of a leader’s arsenal. It’s like authority, which is yet another part of the leader’s arsenal, as is influence.
When leaders have power, they can reward followers who follow. And they can punish followers who do not follow. Put directly, when leaders have power, they can, generally, compel compliance.
Which brings us to this story about the founding chef of a fabled, now defunct, Danish restaurant named Noma. It’s a story about the leader: the founding chef and employer, Rene Redzepi. And, equally, it’s a story about his followers: his employees, who he badly abused.
Abuse in restaurant kitchens is no longer news. We’ve known about it for years. About physical abuse, psychological abuse, and sexual abuse. (For example, we’ve known since 2017 that the famous American chef, Mario Batali, routinely behaved badly toward those in his employ.) Still, the extent of Redzepi’s abusiveness, which more recently came to light, and the willingness of those in his employ to put up with it, is a reminder of the power of power.
Redzepi’s was so great that he was able physically to attack his employees and verbally to assault them – while getting those who suffered and witnessed the abuse to remain silent. The New York Times interviewed 35 of Redzepi’s former employees. They said that between 2009 and 2017 he was known for punching them in the face, jabbing them with kitchen implements, and slamming them against walls. They additionally “described lasting trauma from layers of psychological abuse, including intimidation, body shaming and public ridicule.” Further, there were threats to use his influence to get people blacklisted from other restaurants, or to have their families deported, or to get their relatives fired from jobs at other businesses.*
All of which must raise the question of why people put up with Rene Redzepi. Why did his employees remain in his employ? Why did they continue to follow their leader year after year when their leader was so bad?
Some were asked just this question and the answers they gave were revealing. Some said enduring the experience paid off for professional reasons. They said they learned a lot, had extraordinary experiences, and were able to hone their resumes in ways they could not have done otherwise. Others mentioned the group dynamic, saying that they put up with the abuse because everyone else did. And still others felt their reputation and self-esteem were at stake. As one person put it, “I swallowed it all, because I wanted to prove that I was a team player, that I could take it.”
Of course, not everyone was willing to put up with Rene Redzepi – some of his followers refused to continue to follow. A few reportedly fled mid-shift, in tears, and others were said just to have disappeared. But most stayed on, where they were, which is hard to understand. They were, after all, free to leave. To quit Redzepi’s establishment and go to another first-rate place where the environment was less toxic. So, why stay in such an awful workplace? Why continue to put up with such a bad boss?
Answering these questions requires more than a simple cost-benefit analysis. And more even than understanding the human condition. It requires we grasp that the context within which people are situated can explain not just their obeying authority but their kowtowing to power.
——————————————————————-
*The information in this post, and the quote, is from this piece: https://www.nytimes.com/2026/03/07/dining/rene-redzepi-noma-abuse-allegations.html