“All Good” Is Not All Good

Two words that are slowly killing honest communication in our workplaces, our relationships, and our lives?

“All good.”

Someone misses a deadline that affects your work. “All good.” A colleague cancels on you for the third time. “All good.” Your boss adds another project to your already impossible workload. “All good.” You’re struggling but don’t want to burden anyone. “All good.”

Except it’s not. And we all know it’s not. But we keep saying it anyway.

I’ve been watching this phrase spread like a virus through professional culture, and I’m convinced it’s doing more damage than we realize. It’s become our default response to everything from minor inconveniences to major problems, and in the process, we’ve created a communication system where nobody says what they actually mean.

Here’s what “all good” really means most of the time: “I’m not going to make this awkward.” “I don’t want conflict.” “I’m too tired to address this.” “I don’t think my concerns matter.” “I’m pretending this doesn’t bother me even though it absolutely does.”

The problem isn’t politeness or choosing your battles wisely. The problem is that we’ve replaced honest communication with reflexive dismissal. We’ve trained ourselves to minimize real issues before we’ve even processed them. And the cost is significant.

In organizations, “all good” culture means problems don’t get solved, but instead get buried. Team members stop raising concerns because they’ve learned that everything is supposed to be “all good.” Leaders miss crucial feedback because people have been conditioned to wave off legitimate issues. Resentment builds in silence because we’ve normalized pretending everything is fine when it clearly isn’t.

In personal relationships, it’s even worse. When someone asks “Are you okay?” and you respond “all good” while you’re actually struggling, you’ve just closed the door on connection. You’ve signaled that real conversation isn’t welcome here. You’ve chosen performance over authenticity.

I learned this the hard way during cancer treatment. Well-meaning people would apologize for small things—being late, forgetting to call, whatever—and I’d reflexively say “all good.” But sometimes it wasn’t all good. Sometimes I needed people to show up when they said they would. Sometimes I needed them to remember. Sometimes their small thing was my big thing, and by saying “all good,” I was protecting them from discomfort while abandoning myself.

Here’s what changed: I started saying what I actually meant. Not aggressively. Not dramatically. Just honestly.

“Actually, that timing doesn’t work for me.” “I need you to follow through on this.” “I’m struggling with this and could use support.” “That matters to me, so let’s figure out how to make it work.”

The response? Most people appreciated the clarity. Relationships got stronger, not weaker. Problems got solved instead of festering. And I stopped carrying the weight of pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

This isn’t about becoming hypersensitive or making mountains out of molehills. It’s about precision in communication. Some things genuinely are all good - minor inconveniences, honest mistakes, situations that truly don’t matter. But when something does matter, when it does affect you, when it’s not actually all good, we owe ourselves and others the truth.

Try this instead: pause before you reflexively say “all good.” Ask yourself if it actually is. If it’s not, say so clearly and directly. “That doesn’t work for me.” “I need something different.” “Let’s address this.” “I’m not okay with this situation.”

The discomfort of honest communication is temporary. The damage of chronic dishonesty compounds.

So, the next time someone asks if you’re good and you’re not, tell the truth. Your relationships, your work, and your peace of mind will thank you.

Check out this post and more of my writing on Substack.