What psychology actually taught me about HR
What does a counselling background really add to HR? Alts Digital’s head of people Rita Mendes explores what her psychology training brings to her job and the blind spots it can create.
There's a phrase psychologists hear often: "You studied psychology, you must be great at reading people." There's some truth to that, but it's unlikely to be the main contribution psychology makes to someone working in HR.
This piece draws on my background in work and organisational psychology and on the career counselling practice I still run to explore how both shape the way I do HR, the advantages they bring and the limitations too.
Theory doesn't replace reality
Training in psychology offers a vast set of models, theories and frameworks, and that knowledge is genuinely valuable. We learn theories of leadership, culture, team management and motivation, often with specific steps to follow, and sometimes with the definition of a pure reality that, in practice, rarely exists. But no model replaces reading the concrete reality in front of you, nor should it be forced onto it. A company's culture and the business area it operates in shape how any framework applies, so two seemingly similar situations can call for very different responses.
Perhaps one of psychology's biggest contributions isn't the knowledge of the theories themselves, but the awareness that none of them replaces listening to the person, the team or the organisation in front of you. That listening always has to be the compass of the practice.
No model replaces reading the concrete reality in front of you, nor should it be forced onto it
Several clients, no closed answer
HR's final client is, ultimately, the organisation, but day-to-day, several other clients coexist: employees, managers, the executive level and the people team itself. This multiplicity creates natural tensions and makes it hard to find closed answers to every problem.
Managing information is one of the most concrete ways this shows up. Being the point of contact for several parties means constantly deciding what I share, what I keep and where that line sits, something I learnt to make explicit through my counselling practice. This happens, for example, when an employee brings me a frustrating story about someone on the team, and shortly after, that same person comes to me about the exact same situation from a completely different angle. How I navigate that has to be decided case by case, and it takes real sensitivity, because the final response has to serve the team and the company, not just one side.
The same multiplicity also shapes what people tell me in the first place. Someone can be far more guarded in a meeting with their manager present, and much more direct with me one-on-one, often because of how they perceive authority. Part of my role is staying attentive to this myself, and helping managers and colleagues notice it too, so they know how to act accordingly.
Learning to distrust first explanations
None of us is exempt from this, myself included: when someone comes to us to share something, whether in a 1:1, a casual conversation, or a performance review, what's said first rarely tells the whole story. Learning to look past it is useful in any interaction, not only in an HR conversation. Assuming that the reality we're told is a shared reality, meaning the same thing to the person saying it and the person hearing it, is one of the easiest mistakes to make. In an organisational context, it's tempting to reach for quick explanations: "this person is unmotivated", "this manager doesn't communicate well", or "this team is excellent". These statements often hide a far more complex reality.
In a performance review, if someone says "I'm not very motivated to do this", the right question is "what do you mean by that, specifically?" In recruitment, if a candidate says "I want to grow and progress", the right question is "what does that look like in practice?" I learnt this in my counselling work too: concepts rarely mean exactly the same thing to the person saying them and the person listening.
Corporate language is full of clichés, and it's easy to slip into assumptions with no factual grounding at all. It's perhaps curious that a profession like psychology, so often associated with the subjective, ends up doing the opposite work: making concrete something that arrives as a vague, formless cloud, until it takes a shape that can actually be discussed.
Some people expect direct advice; others expect HR to intervene on their behalf or resolve conflicts for them. Managing these expectations is part of the job, and it isn't always simple
Not being the solution, but the space where it happens
One of the most striking ideas from psychology training is that the professional's role isn't necessarily to offer answers, but to create the conditions for them to emerge. A good therapist doesn't live the client's life for them, or tell them exactly what to do; they help the client build their own answers. This logic is just as useful in HR: instead of solving problems on behalf of managers or employees, I try to create space for reflection and decision-making.
This approach, however, often generates frustration. Some people expect direct advice; others expect HR to intervene on their behalf or resolve conflicts for them. Managing these expectations is part of the job, and it isn't always simple.
Seeing several levels at once
Psychology encourages a more holistic view of organisational problems: situations stop being seen purely from the company's point of view, or purely from the individual's. There's a constant tension between the wellbeing of the people who work there and the sustainability of the organisation, and the answer is rarely found at either extreme, or even in the middle. It's found instead in whatever solution is most sustainable for that specific culture, industry, business or context.
The cost: from understanding to deciding
One of the limitations of this way of thinking isn't necessarily a loss of assertiveness, but a tendency to draw out the understanding and analysing phase for too long. Constantly seeking more context and different perspectives is a real analytical advantage, but it doesn't remove the responsibility to decide, even when the information available will never be complete.
It's happened to me: trying to keep the balance between different parties, I've avoided digging deeper into something, or hesitated out of fear of overstepping into a decision someone else should be making for themselves. But there are moments when you simply have to decide and be direct. It has to happen.
There's another side to this too, one any HR professional will probably recognise: people come to us for all sorts of reasons, and not all of them deserve the same focus or priority. Sometimes the right call is simply to do nothing and let it be. When you're a psychologist trained to look for meaning in everything, that can be hard to do.
Perhaps psychology's biggest contribution to HR isn't simply a greater capacity to understand people. Its impact seems to lie mostly in how it teaches you to look at problems
Business doesn't come naturally
Training in psychology also doesn't naturally build skills around business, law, industry dynamics or economic analysis. Because of that, we need to develop these deliberately, recognising that understanding people, on its own, isn't enough to practise HR strategically.
Contrary to what's often assumed, perhaps psychology's biggest contribution to HR isn't simply a greater capacity to understand people. Its impact seems to lie mostly in how it teaches you to look at problems: resisting easy explanations, asking better questions and tolerating higher levels of ambiguity, even when that means accepting that different perspectives can coexist.
