If your first thought is, “But I’m not a micromanager!”… first, make sure you’re not lying to yourself. You might not be a micromanager, in which case this article may not be for you (though I still think you should read it, as you could become one—nobody is immune!).
But if you are a micromanager and you’ve been avoiding that truth like you would an email saying nothing but “We need to talk”, now’s the time to let it go. That energy you're using to build your “I’m just detail-oriented” defense strategy is better redirected toward not being the thing you want to defend yourself against accusations of. It’s like the old saying goes: if you don’t want people to think you’re an asshole, try not being one. (And if you don’t want people to think you’re making up old sayings… well. That advice clearly isn’t for me.)
Why do I think you might be lying to yourself about this micromanagement thing?
Because literally every micromanager I’ve coached has started off by telling me they’re “very hands-off.” Every. Single. One.
And then, five minutes later, they’re casually explaining that their team should be able to account for every minute of every day, preferably in a spreadsheet with color-coded tabs.
When I ask the team how things are going, “micromanaged as hell” is usually the first phrase out of someone’s mouth… right before they stare into the middle distance as if they’ve just had a flashback to a particularly grim lab meeting.
So, what’s the fix?
Here’s the thing. Micromanaging isn’t the problem. It’s a symptom. Like when you get COVID and suddenly everything tastes like cardboard, except instead of losing your sense of taste, you lose your ability to assign any task ever without sending three follow-ups and a “just checking in :)” message before the person’s even finished reading the first email.
Trying to fix micromanaging by addressing micromanaging is like trying to shut your angry cat up by putting the bedroom door between you and him instead of getting up at 5 am to give him breakfast like any good cat owner should (sorry, my cat wrote this part). Sure, you might sleep in for an extra 30 minutes, but you’ll wake up to shredded carpet and an even angrier cat.
Micromanagement feels like a communication issue. Or an attitude problem. Or a power trip. But all of those are also symptoms.
The root cause?
Lack of trust.
And not just in others. In yourself, the process, the system, something. Maybe it came from a past experience or a specific person who let you down. Maybe it’s generalized everyone is incompetent except me energy. Maybe it’s just straight-up paranoia. (That’s not a judgment. Sometimes paranoia is valid! But also sometimes it’s… not.)
Let me give you a worst-case scenario. An (unfortunately) real-world example.
An extremely successful researcher running a lab of about 10 people started noticing experiments weren’t working. Rather than investigate the science, he decided the problem must be the people. He started firing people one-by-one, hoping to clean up the data. The data still didn’t cooperate. He then convinced himself his team was deliberately sabotaging him by fabricating negative data (???) and installed cameras all over the lab.
Nobody was caught doing anything wrong. He kept firing people anyway. Eventually, there was one lab member left. By that point, the guy had taken to secretly filming hallway conversations and cornering colleagues in the bathroom to show them blurry footage and demand they interpret it like they were in an episode of CSI: Miami (without the sunglasses. I think. I was never in that bathroom).
He lost all his funding. Got banned from campus. Also got hired somewhere else later, but that’s another story.
Was that just micromanagement? No. But at the root of it all was the same issue: unresolved mistrust that snowballed into complete dysfunction.
So. If you want to stop micromanaging before you end up hiding in the toilets with a camcorder and a conspiracy board, start here:
Ask yourself: Where is there a lack of trust in this situation?
And then: What can I do to address that?
(Spoiler alert: “trusting harder” is not a strategy.)
The real work is in figuring out why the trust is missing and whether it’s based on reality, fear, or a vibe that’s spiraled out of control (vibes are not facts, and if you’re taking a vibes-based leadership approach, please know that’s how cults start. And you can trust me on that because I’ve been in a cult.)
Let’s break it down.
1. Is the lack of trust in someone else?
Ask yourself:
Have they consistently missed deadlines or delivered low-quality work?
Have I clearly communicated what I want from them AND checked that they understand?
Do they know what the priorities are, or have I been unintentionally expecting them to read my mind? (As an aside—holding people to expectations that were never communicated is an extremely common root cause of conflict)
If you’re micromanaging because someone’s performance is shaky, fine. But if you’ve never had an honest conversation about it and instead opted for passive-aggressive comments and 15 follow-up emails, that’s not performance management. It’s slow-motion sabotage.
Try this: Set clear expectations, provide actual actionable feedback, and give them the space to meet those expectations. If they don’t, you’ve got data. If they do? Congratulations, you’ve just built some trust back.
2. Is the lack of trust in the team as a whole?
This usually shows up as a ‘they can’t do anything unless I’m in the room’ attitude, and if that’s you, here’s the tough love: either your hiring decisions are trash, or your onboarding and ongoing expectation management are. Possibly all three.
Micromanagement becomes the default when we don’t build systems that allow teams to succeed without us (I see you running away… come back, please—your team succeeding without you doesn’t make you less important; it just gives you more time to write those grants!). There’s no Researcher Who Did It All prize. You’ll just get a reputation as That PI People Warn Others About.
Try this: Build processes. Have specific mechanisms for your team to report information to you—a Friday afternoon email detailing what they did that week and what they’re doing next week is one option. Give people ownership. Give them the ability to set their own schedule, but provide them training in how to block off intensive work time (lab work is creative, and all creative work needs dedicated blocked-off time for it to happen consistently). Then let them go and do it.
3. Is the lack of trust in yourself?
I know you don’t want to admit it.
Maybe you’re a new PI. Maybe you got zero training because that’s how 90% of universities do it. Maybe you had terrible examples during your grad school and postdoc positions, and you’re now unintentionally cosplaying them. Whatever the reason, micromanaging often masks self-doubt.
It's easier to obsess over the tiny stuff when you don’t trust yourself to lead, make decisions, or let go. And obsessing over the tiny stuff feels productive. It feels like control. But it’s not. It’s making a to-do list out of your anxiety.
Try this: Get support. Coaching and mentoring from the right people go a long way. Forget about looking for the most successful people in your department in terms of research output. Find the ones with the teams everyone wants to join—the ones who have students competing for places every time rotations roll around because the lab atmosphere is so good—and chat with them about how they do it. Hire an external coach who can objectively listen as you talk through your self-doubt and where it is coming from. Most won’t directly advise you because you won’t need them to. Talking things through in a safe space tricks your brain into solving problems on its own. It’s annoying, honestly, how well it works.
You don’t need to be perfect to lead, but you do need to stop weaponizing your uncertainty. To your team, micromanagement doesn’t feel like leadership. It feels like surveillance. Like being told every day that you can’t be trusted to think. I know you don’t want your people feeling that way.
Micromanaging doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. It doesn’t even mean you’re a bad manager.
It means there’s a trust problem somewhere. And trust problems, like weird sounds in your car, only get louder the longer you ignore them. (I once overheard a guy on campus telling someone on the other end of a phone call that he “didn’t need” to take his car to the shop anymore because “whatever was leaking out of the engine stopped”. I still think about that.)
Ask the question. Where is there a lack of trust in this situation?
Be honest with your answer. Deal with the root instead of hacking at the branches.
And please don’t install cameras in your lab. If you’re at that point, take a sabbatical.