Lhasa Reviews

It’s easy to blame the deployment of management consultants in mid 2020 as the sole cause of the problems at Lhasa, but the toxic environment is radiating from a small group of senior leaders and the CEO. Whilst Lhasa attempted to ‘change its ways of thinking’ - a perfectly normal business practice – the results have been devastating. Whilst there is a vision to empower staff to make decisions based on their experience and closeness to the work, the reality is that Lhasa has turned into a dictatorship where any ideas are micromanaged by senior leaders. Almost all processes and working procedures have been ‘redesigned’ by staff with no understanding or expertise of them. As a result, the ‘redesigns’ have created chaos in everyday work, with no clear responsibilities and all operations practically stopping for over a year. The culture of Lhasa is one of a police state, where trust has been demolished between colleagues as career progression is only possible if you are in favour with particular senior leaders. ‘Collaboration’ at Lhasa is to appear to work harmoniously whilst also preparing to betray your colleagues to be seen favourably. A critical absence of skill and ability at the company is terrifying, given that prospective employees are preferentially hired on ‘cultural fit’. Those promoted into senior positions are there because of their ‘loyalty’ or for their enthusiasm in the sheer ignorance of their incompetence. By any measures, Lhasa is in a poor state. As a software company, Lhasa has failed to create a coherent direction in its strategy for years, resulting in sub-standard software releases and a failure to accommodate changes in technology. Four heads of software in six years is quite damning. Turnover in the previous twelve months are beyond belief – nearly 50 employees have left the business, taking 200 years of collective Lhasa experience with them. This is a horror situation for a company of Lhasa’s size and unique section of industry, yet this exodus is welcomed and encouraged by the leadership. All of the negativity of Lhasa is the result of catastrophic leadership, where gaslighting and scapegoating staff in briefings is commonplace. The preference to addressing the company’s problems is by silencing dissent and writing false positive Glassdoor reviews. The social media whitewashing campaigns are also fooling nobody, as customers have noticed that things are not matching the narrative. The saddest measure is the annihilation of morale, motivation and the mental health of staff in the last 18 months. Staff have suffered both in and outside of work, but Lhasa has ripped out the culture of supportiveness – as there is a fear that talking about any struggles will be interpreted as ‘not liking the changes’.

My experience at this organisation was overwhelmingly negative, and candidates deserve a frank account before considering a role here. Although the organisation markets itself as a mission-driven not-for-profit, internally it behaves like a politically charged private company where decisions are driven by allegiance rather than competence. Major restructures were carried out under the convenient label of “external consultancy assessments,” but the process felt more theatrical than genuine. Long-serving experts were moved aside, while far less experienced individuals were abruptly elevated. Unsurprisingly, this triggered a mass exodus: dozens of people left one department alone. No one can plausibly call that normal. One of the most concerning aspects is the complete absence of proper governance. There is effectively no independent oversight, no checks and balances, and no functioning escalation routes. A single leadership pairing dominates every decision, from HR to IT priorities, regardless of their actual expertise in those areas. The organisation’s structure exists on paper only; in practice, everything is concentrated in the hands of one senior figure and their closest ally, whose influence extends far beyond their formal remit. The HR department is purely operational and offers no meaningful support. They act entirely on instruction from the same leadership circle and cannot be relied upon as a neutral party. For employees facing issues, this leaves no safe or credible avenue to raise concerns. What follows from this is a culture of extreme favouritism. A small inner circle receives constant travel, rapid promotions, and perks, while others are sidelined or managed out. Advancement has little to do with skill and everything to do with being on the “right side” of those in charge. If you don't belong to this group, you might be a bad apple. Boundaries are routinely crossed; leadership displays an unusually close dynamic that many perceive as blurring professional lines, and this directly affects who is rewarded, who is punished, and whose voice matters. Employee autonomy is almost nonexistent. Senior leaders show a troubling sense of entitlement over staff’s personal lives — including attempts to influence how people behave on their own social media accounts (The whole organization gets e-mails telling them which posts to like and not to like on LinkedIn, or private messages telling them to remove reactions or comments they've made). The expectation appears to be total loyalty, public enthusiasm, and unquestioning agreement. Anything less is treated with suspicion. Despite public claims of valuing inclusion, diversity, and scientific integrity, the internal reality is deeply hierarchical, fear-driven, and politically loaded. Many employees stay silent because alternatives in the region for highly technical roles are limited. Others benefit from the inner circle and therefore prop up the system. Even governance bodies appear aware of the issues but remain hands-off, leaving employees with no real protection. Overall, working here often feels like stepping back decades to a workplace where questioning leadership is unwelcome, power is concentrated in a small and unusually interconnected group, and your progression depends entirely on staying in their good graces altough you are oftern