MMA organised a discussion on the book Good Boy Syndrome: A Peculiar Feature of Being a Man in the Indian Context by Kartik V. Kartikeyan, Executive Coach, Leadership Consultant, and Author. The session featured an engaging conversation between the author and a distinguished panel comprising Ganesh Chella, Author, Co-Founder & Chief Solution Architect, CFI; Sharada Chandrasekar, Leadership & Executive Coach, CFI; and Lakshminarayanan Duraiswamy, Managing Director, Sundaram Home Finance Ltd.
Ganesh Chella: The Good Boy Syndrome is an intriguing term. As a coach, a student of human behavior, and an observer of social change, I think that understanding the Indian male—his role in society, at home, and at work—is essential today, more so because the Indian female is evolving at an astronomical pace. Many questions about social dynamics today could be better answered by exploring the evolving identity of the Indian male. So perhaps we can begin by asking you, Kartik, to describe what you mean by the “good boy.” How can someone reflect and ask themselves: Am I a good boy? And more importantly, Is being a good boy a positive or a limiting thing—especially in organisations?
Kartik V. Kartikeyan: The “Good Boy” is within each of us—it’s not strictly about gender. Whether you’re a man or a woman, there’s a part of us that wants to be ‘good,’ to be accepted, to do what is expected. Of course, society and biology shape different expectations of what being a “good girl” or a “good boy” means.
As I reflected on my own life—what it has been about, what I’ve done—I began noticing patterns. These weren’t just personal. I saw the same behaviours all around me. That’s when I realised: the “Good Boy” isn’t rare or hidden. He’s everywhere. He is the one who upholds the existing order—whether it’s the expectations of family, society, the organisation, or even children. He doesn’t just comply; he sustains, reinforces, and spreads those expectations. He becomes a custodian of the status quo. But the “Good Boy” isn’t without cost. He carries joys, sorrows, and silent struggles—often in isolation.
In a patriarchal society like India, the “Good Boy” plays a crucial role in sustaining that patriarchy. Even as structures of patriarchy are questioned or deconstructed, it remains in the system’s interest to keep the “Good Boy” alive. And this dynamic isn’t limited to families or society—it’s deeply embedded in organisational life as well. The corporate world is no exception.
Lakshminarayanan Duraiswamy: Can we draw parallels between the “Good Boy” and corporate life? In a corporate setup, the good boy might be defined by his performance, loyalty, or a few other traits. What’s your perspective on that?
Kartik V. Kartikeyan: The good boy isn’t the captive property of any particular system. What’s interesting is that this concept isn’t strictly about a moral compass—what society sees as good or bad. Rather, the good boy adapts to the context he is in and plays by those rules.
Take, for instance, the practice of honour killing—not just in India, but in many countries. It’s a shocking, deplorable, and shameful reality. Often, it’s the brother of a girl—who has married outside her caste—who carries it out. In the eyes of the family, he’s considered a good boy, even though it’s a criminal act.
The same applies to corporate settings. The good boy upholds the order—he lives by what he has learned and aligns with what the organisation seeks to create. In my interviews with various people, most described the good boy as someone who values and lives by organisational norms. But there are limitations to being that good boy—and that’s an important aspect to reflect on.
Sharada Chandrasekar: In my long experience of working with many men in the corporate sector—and increasingly with women—I’ve observed that quite a few women also exhibit strong “good boy” qualities. Recognising that you are a “good boy” is, in itself, an act of self-awareness. And it is this self-awareness that becomes the starting point for transformation. The “Good Boy Syndrome” can play a significant role in sustaining relationships—whether in families, marriages, or teams.
As a parent, I often found myself uncertain about how to help my children set boundaries. I used to think of boundaries as restrictive—but over time, I’ve come to see that they can also be profoundly enabling. They are not about confinement, but about creating the space necessary for autonomy and growth. Carl Jung once said, “The hardest boundaries to set are often the ones that free us most.” That insight resonates deeply with me.
Kartik V. Kartikeyan: Carl Jung’s quote is a very profound statement. The “Good Boy” exists on a spectrum of multiple identities. On one end, there’s the self-centric boy. There are no truly “bad boys.” Then there’s the equivocal boy—neither self-centric nor clearly a good boy—he lives in between. And then, we have the “ungood boy.” He’s not bad either—but he stands in contrast to the good boy. The ungood boy is what you begin to uncover when you engage deeply with Jung’s insight. He struggles with setting boundaries, because doing so doesn’t come naturally to him. The good boy, on the other hand, doesn’t have to set boundaries—he adapts to and lives within the ones that are given to him by the system.
I grew up as a Tamil Brahmin boy. I studied in Vivekananda College and pursued a B.Com degree. The family expectation was clear—I was supposed to do a CA. If I’d taken the science stream, then engineering or medicine would have been the acceptable paths. None of these felt right to me. I didn’t feel confident enough to pursue CA. A friend suggested I try for an MBA. I got into XLRI—and everything changed. The rules, regulations, and boundaries I had grown up with were blown away by the winds of XLRI. It challenged all my assumptions about what it means to live within boundaries. That was the first time I started exploring the “ungood boy” within myself.
One of the defining features of all human systems is boundaries. These can be physical, psychological, emotional, or social. Boundaries are meant to protect the well-being of those within the system. But they also define the scope of your autonomy—what you can and cannot do. The good boy carefully figures out what he can do—and more importantly, what he’s not expected to do. If, by chance, he steps outside those expectations, he risks being seen by the system as a “bad boy.”
Boundaries are often shaped by the expectations of those around us. These expectations frequently take the form of unspoken commandments—like: take responsibility, be the provider, contain your emotions, respect your elders, don’t ask too many questions. They are rarely questioned, yet deeply influential, quietly defining the limits of who we’re allowed to be. The “ungood boy” begins to question these. He asks, Why should I accept these boundaries? Why can’t I set my own?He’s like a cricketer stepping out of the crease and hitting a boundary and exercising autonomy. How boundaries are drawn, held, or challenged determines whether someone is seen as a good boy or an ungood boy.
Sharada Chandrasekar: Some behaviours that signify being a good boy can actually be limiting. The question is—how can he begin to explore his own autonomy by stepping out of that shell? How does he break free from the constraints of the ‘good boy’ identity in order to discover who he truly is?
Kartik V. Kartikeyan: The good boy does have a certain modicum of autonomy—what I would call conditional autonomy. It may sound like an oxymoron, but it’s real. He has autonomy to operate within a defined radius. Now, that radius may be narrow, constrictive, or relatively wider—it depends on the context, whether it’s the family or the organisation he’s part of. Different settings offer different diameters of boundaries within which the good boy can function.
Societal norms have also evolved significantly. Practices that were uncommon 30 years ago—like dating or live-in relationships—are increasingly part of today’s social fabric. So, a person who embraces these may still be considered a good boy, as long as he operates within the autonomy permitted by his current context.
Being a good boy isn’t a moral label. Goodness here is defined by the expectations of the context in which a person lives. The ungood boy, in contrast, operates from a different kind of autonomy—one that is self-authored, not conditional. He defines and claims his own space.
Ganesh Chella: Organisations continue to struggle with women’s participation in the workforce. We often find that beyond a certain level, the number of women progressing to middle or senior management positions is limited. While part of this is shaped by what women themselves choose or want, how much of it could be attributed to the Good Boy Syndrome?
Kartik V. Kartikeyan: I believe the Good Boy Syndrome is a fairly significant contributor to this phenomenon. Let me explain why. Traditionally, organisations are hierarchical and power is delegated downward. If I’m the executive head of an organisation, it’s often easier for me to maintain control and continuity by promoting the “good boy”—someone who upholds the existing order. This happens even if the individual isn’t fully competent or suited for the senior role. His “good boyness” may not lead to real effectiveness, but from a leadership standpoint, it serves the interests of those in power to support and promote such individuals. The good boy continues to enjoy the protective patronage of senior leaders because it helps them preserve their own agendas and organisational culture.
Now, if we bring women into this picture, their increased participation often presents challenges to these traditional bastions of male leadership. Many of these male leaders may themselves be “good boys” or self-centric boys, operating within a patriarchal framework. And let’s not forget—India is still very much a patriarchal society.
That patriarchy is just as present in corporate boardrooms as it is in rural villages. So, in such systems, it’s more likely for good boys or self-centric boys to rise to the top. We may see more ungood boys emerge over time too. But both the rise of ungood boys and increased women participation introduce a level of disruption and inconvenience for traditional male power structures.
Ganesh Chella: One paradigm of the Good Boy could be the belief that men must be the providers, while women should be the caregivers. That’s also a possible interpretation. But the larger question is: will the Good Boy be willing to re-examine these structures and boundaries, especially when greater women participation in the workforce demands it?
Sharada Chandrasekar: I absolutely believe the time has come for the Good Boy Syndrome to be explored—deeply and personally—by individuals in every kind of relationship and context, even as team players. The question to ask is: What am I losing out on by being a good boy? And more importantly: What more can I become if I step out of that identity?
I’ve come across many men in my coaching practice—often spouses of the women I coach—who carry this Good Boy dimension. And many of these women don’t know how to challenge it, because their own expectations and identities are evolving very rapidly—perhaps even more rapidly than those of their male partners. And I say this with a great deal of compassion. Men also need support. They need workshops, programs, and safe spaces—just like women have had—to step out of traditional roles and discover who they truly are.
Kartik V. Kartikeyan: The good boy is not a trap. If we say it is a trap, then there is no hope for the good boy.
Ganesh Chella: In many organisations, especially in the early stages, we emphasise compliance and conformance to processes. This helps drive scale, discipline, operational excellence—things run smoothly that way. But then, suddenly, we expect people to be innovative, think outside the box, and deal with disruption. Do you see any connection between this shift and the Good Boy archetype?
Lakshminarayanan Duraiswamy: Absolutely. We tend to typecast the Good Boy as someone who follows the rules, conforms to processes, and obeys orders—qualities that leaders often appreciate. But in today’s organisations, there’s also a large number of people who don’t conform to any of these processes—yet they perform, and they deliver results.
It’s a paradox. Many of us come from structured environments—Six Sigma, quality systems, compliance-heavy cultures. And then we find ourselves leading teams with a fair number of what I’d call “cowboys”—people who operate on their own terms and get the job done, even if they ignore every standard process along the way.
So now, as leaders, we’re managing two very different groups: the Good Boys, who conform, and the non-conformists, who often outperform but don’t fit the mould. In some teams—take large sales forces, for instance—you can’t realistically associate strict compliance or structured processes with how they operate. And I say that with no disrespect. You need both types to coexist. You can’t build an organisation solely around conformists and expect to thrive, especially in today’s dynamic, results-driven environment.
This paradox isn’t as stark in family settings. There, if someone doesn’t conform to family values, they become an outcast. But they’re not expected to contribute in any material way either. In organisations, however, you have to include everyone and still deliver results.
And to me, this paradox isn’t new. Organisations have always had both—compliance-oriented teams like finance or operations, and then others who work more instinctively, creatively, or chaotically. What’s changed now is the proportion. In the new economy—especially with startups and more agile environments—the number of non-conformists is growing. Meanwhile, the traditional conformists are slowly decreasing in number. That’s creating a new imbalance—and leadership today has to reckon with how to manage this evolving mix.
Kartik V. Kartikeyan: Yes, the shift is definitely happening. Organisations today are increasingly demanding what I would call a bit more ungoodness—a willingness to challenge, disrupt, question norms.
Based on the data I’ve collected, around 80% of Indian males identify with what we call Good Boy traits. These identities include roles like custodian, provider, guide, or mentor. When I narrow the data to Indian males with less than 10 years of work experience, the percentage drops slightly—from 80% to about 70%. So yes, there is movement, but it’s not a dramatic shift yet.
Ravi Kyran, the CHRO of Bajaj Auto said something insightful. He noted that 30 years ago, the biggest struggle for corporate leaders was guilt—“Have I gone over budget? Did I make a mistake?” But today, what troubles leaders most is anxiety—a persistent unease about the future, change, disruption.
Ganesh Chella: How much of the Good Boy Syndrome is peculiar to the Indian context? Would its characteristics differ globally?
Kartik V. Kartikeyan: The characteristics certainly differ from context to context. Cultural and social settings shape how the Good Boy manifests.
Sharada Chandrasekar: While there are cultural differences, I also believe there are many underlying similarities. In most cultures, individuals are exposed to a mix of societal and familial expectations. Even if the society itself seems quite different, especially for the younger generation, these influences often mirror each other. So, while the form may vary, the relevance of the Good Boy construct may still be significant across different cultures—though it may manifest or be interpreted differently.
Kartik V. Kartikeyan: That makes sense. If I were to consider the United States or other developed nations in the Global North, the peculiarity there might come more from the archetype of the dominant male. So yes, there’s still a peculiarity, but it’s rooted in a very different cultural context than ours. Now, addressing another question—was there a personal turning point when I recognised the Good Boy in myself?
Yes, painfully so. But it wasn’t like I woke up one morning and suddenly realised, ‘Oh, my life has been that of a good boy.’ It has been more of an ongoing inquiry—an evolving self-exploration over time. Since the 1990s, I’ve been associated with two significant institutions: Sumedhas and Group Relations India. Both are rooted in behavioural sciences and have offered me structured spaces to reflect and question myself. These settings consistently invited introspection—asking questions like, ‘What are you doing with your life? Who are you? What are you really up to?’ So, rather than a single dramatic moment, it was more of a turning arc—a gradual unfolding of self-awareness through continuous inquiry and reflection.
Ganesh Chella: When you associate a voice with the Good Boy, is it the voice of the mother or the spouse?
Kartik V. Kartikeyan: It’s the mother—especially in the early stages of identity formation.
Ganesh Chella: What needs to change?
Kartik V. Kartikeyan: People often say that it has to start at home, or in school—that the curriculum needs to change. But I get a bit cynical when I hear this. It feels like common sense, something we’ve been saying for a long time. We can shout these things from the rooftops, but very little actually changes, because much of this is hard-coded into our social structures.
There’s a new series on Netflix called Adolescence that explores the relationship between a boy, his father, and his mother. It raises some really tough, important questions. But let’s be honest—these issues can’t be solved just by tweaking school curricula or having one-off family conversations. Those things may help, but they’re not sufficient conditions for real change.
I don’t have a ready-made solution. But what I do believe is that educators, parents, and caregivers must come together, sit down, and engage in genuine, ongoing inquiry. They must be willing to ask difficult questions—not just of children, but of themselves.
