The Cost of Peace of Mind: Or Why Top Engineers Seem “Too Expensive”
In IT organizations, just as in homes, you don’t choose between “cheap” and “expensive.” You choose between “cheap – but with cognitive load” and "expensive – but with autonomy.”
Top engineers are not a resource. They’re infrastructure.
And if you don’t invest in them as infrastructure—you aren’t firing an employee. You’re destroying your own resilience.
Read the manifesto for a mature IT professional — with references to cognitive psychology, systems thinking, complex systems theory, and principles of psychological safety (Amy Edmondson), deep work (Cal Newport), and responsibility for the system (Donella Meadows). It doesn’t accuse—it educates. And therefore—acts. And it’s not burnout.
When you choose an apartment or a car, you don’t just buy an object—you buy a support system. You pay not only for square meters or an engine but for reliability, predictability, and emotional reduction of mental load. A prestigious neighborhood isn’t about status; it’s about reducing the frequency of stressors: cleaning, repairs, security, reactions to accidents—all delegated to professionals. You pay for autonomy. For not having to think.
Similarly, when a manager in an IT company decides to “save” on processes, infrastructure, training, or team support—they don’t cut costs. They shift the cost.
They transfer cognitive load to their employees. They replace systemic reliability with individual resilience. They create a system dependent on heroism
, not on processes. And implementing even the simplest virtual machine with a monitoring system – isn’t that a process with its stages, tickets, involvement of stakeholders, sharing experience and updating documentation? Somehow you’re used to doing this work with your eyes closed or by pressing a button. Even if it’s by button?
And that’s where the tragedy begins.
You, as a consumer, love quality products: a phone that doesn’t lag; a car that doesn’t break down; an app that works without glitches. But when you—are a manager, you start perceiving your employees’ work as “natural”—as if code writes itself, infrastructure maintains itself, and incidents resolve themselves without intervention. You don’t notice that your best engineer is the one who fixes the server at night, writes documentation, implements monitoring, says “no” to hacks. You don’t see that their emotional resilience, deep engagement, and commitment to quality aren’t “intrinsic motivation,” but the result of conscious choice and systemic support. And when they start standing out—you don’t admire them. You wonder: “Why are they doing so much ?” Why don’t they make compromises?
This is a cognitive bias: you don’t understand that high performance doesn’t come from nowhere. It’s the result of a high level of psychological safety, clear boundaries, and support from the system. And when someone single-handedly compensates for systemic failures—they become indispensable but not valuable within the system. They become victims of their own efficiency.
Because in a toxic culture where “everything works” means “everything is normal,” and “works poorly” means “you need to work harder,” — top employees start absorbing all the unpleasant work. They become system de-compensators. They take on what the system cannot support:
— technical debt,
— lack of processes,
— chaos in priorities,
— emotional burnout of the team.
And then – after six months, a year – you notice: “This employee costs too much.”
But you don’t ask yourself:
“Who made them expensive?”
They didn’t become expensive — you made them expensive. You didn’t invest in the system—and they invested everything in it. You didn’t create a culture—they created it alone. You didn’t build a process—they wrote, implemented, trained, and supported it. And now that they have reached a point where your deputy starts reporting to them—you perceive this as a threat, not an achievement.