I’ll be honest. Territorial behaviour at work is something I’ve seen, something I’ve felt, and something I’ve even been guilty of myself.
That instinct to guard your turf. That hesitation to share too much. That flicker of fear when someone else’s star begins to shine. You wonder: What if I’m no longer needed? What if they see me as irrelevant? What if I get quietly put in “cold storage”? (#iykyk)
It feels like a normal reaction, especially when we don’t fully understand the bigger picture.
Is territorial the same as ownership?
This is something I’ve struggled with: Is being territorial the same as taking ownership? Or is “territorial” just a fancy word for something we want to justify?
To me, ownership is more about accountability. It’s saying, “This is my work, I’ll do it well, I’ll stand by it.” Ownership is positive. It builds trust and credibility.
Territorial, on the other hand, is when ownership crosses into defensiveness. It’s when protecting your work turns into protecting your ego.
Ownership invites others in; territoriality shuts others out.
That’s where the danger lies. We can be proud of what we do and still collaborate. We can own without hoarding.
Is it just a “women thing”?
Here’s the uncomfortable truth. Sometimes, this territorial instinct feels more visible among women. Maybe it’s because there are fewer women in leadership spaces, and the scarcity mindset kicks in: If she rises, do I fall? If she’s seen, will I be forgotten?
I’ve seen women guard their projects, their networks, their knowledge, afraid another woman might overshadow them. The irony? This behaviour only reinforces the very barriers we’ve fought so hard to break.
But to be fair, territoriality isn’t exclusive to women. It’s human. Men do it too. The difference is, men often mask it behind hierarchy or authority, while women feel the stakes more personally, more emotionally.
Is it generational?
Sometimes I wonder, do the younger generation carry this mindset the way we Gen Xers (or Boomers) do?
Not as much maybe? Many younger professionals, especially Gen Z, have grown up in a culture of collaboration… sharing on platforms, working in squads, open-source mindsets. They’re more comfortable with visibility being spread around.
But for us older ones, we came from a world where resources were scarce, competition was fierce, and recognition was hard-earned. We had to fight for our seat at the table, so naturally, when we get it, we guard it. That’s why territorial tendencies feel stronger in older generations.
In today’s (younger) workforce, collaboration is becoming the new currency. The organisations that thrive are the ones building inclusive, cross-functional cultures where information flows and silos break down. Companies that hold onto territorial mindsets? They stagnate.
So, what are we protecting, really?
When I reflect on it, what are we really protecting when we get territorial?
A title? A project? An illusion of control?
The truth is, being territorial doesn’t secure us. It shrinks us. It makes us smaller, harder to approach, less trusted.
Collaboration, on the other hand, multiplies our relevance. When you’re known as the person who shares, who supports, who lifts others. You don’t become irrelevant, you become invaluable.
Territorial thinking may feel like protection, but it’s really… just fear in disguise.
Ownership, on the other hand, is accountability and pride. The good kind. The one that builds trust.
So maybe the shift we need is this:
Less territorial, more ownership.
Less guarding, more giving.
Less “mine,” more “ours.”
Because when we choose collaboration over territory, we don’t just build better organisations. We build better versions of ourselves.
Written by A. Balancing duty in public service and care at home, she writes from the heart of both worlds.