Most workplace advice treats generosity as an unqualified good: help more, say yes more, and good things follow. Two separate lines of organizational research complicate that picture in a specific and useful way. The problem research keeps finding isn’t generosity itself. It’s generosity with no boundary attached to it.

The clearer warning sign comes from a 2005 study by Mark Bolino and William Turnley, published in the Journal of Applied Psychology. The researchers focused on a specific type of workplace helpfulness they called individual initiative: staying late, coming in early, taking on extra projects, and rearranging personal plans to meet work demands, the exact behaviors that tend to get someone noticed as a dependable, generous colleague. Their finding wasn’t that this kind of initiative is worthless. It was that it comes at a measurable personal cost. Individual initiative was positively related to role overload, job stress, and work-family conflict. The people quietly absorbing the most extra work, in other words, weren’t just being generous. They were also the ones most likely to be stretched thin, stressed, and in conflict between their job and the rest of their life, a cost that rarely shows up on the same performance review that praises their dependability.

A second, earlier study adds an important layer to why this happens and points toward a way out of it. In a 2003 study by Francis Flynn, published in the Academy of Management Journal, Flynn examined how favor-giving at work actually shaped two different outcomes: social status and productivity. Perceived generosity was positively related to status. Generous people were seen more favorably by their colleagues, which lines up with the instinct that helping others pays off socially. But status wasn’t the only thing at stake. Maintaining a roughly equitable balance in how favors were given and received, rather than consistently giving far more than was ever returned, was what predicted productivity. Employees who gave generously but let the exchange run one-sided for too long saw their own output suffer. Flynn’s data pointed to a specific fix, too: the employees who did best on both fronts weren’t the ones who gave less. They were the ones who exchanged favors more frequently, which kept the giving and receiving closer to balanced without requiring anyone to hold back their generosity.

Put next to each other, these two studies describe the same trap from different angles. Bolino and Turnley show what happens when a person’s helpfulness expands without limit: role overload, stress, and conflict between work and everything else. Flynn shows why the imbalance itself, not the generosity, is what erodes productivity, and that people who keep the exchange moving in both directions protect their standing without needing to give less. Neither study is really an argument against being a generous colleague. Both point toward the same narrower target: generosity that has no boundary and no reciprocity attached to it is the version that costs something, not generosity in general.

It’s worth being clear about what this research doesn’t cover. Bolino and Turnley’s individual initiative measure captures a specific slice of workplace helpfulness, staying late, taking on extra tasks, rearranging plans, rather than the full emotional pattern people usually mean by “people pleasing,” which often includes difficulty saying no in personal relationships, discomfort with any conflict, and self-silencing that has little to do with a job at all. Flynn’s data came from a single firm’s engineers, a specific occupational context, and correlational data like this can’t fully rule out the reverse explanation, that people already prone to stress or lower status take on more one-sided helping as a way to compensate, rather than the imbalance itself causing the strain. Both studies also focus on workplace outcomes specifically, not the broader question of wellbeing or self-respect that usually sits underneath the instinct to stop people-pleasing altogether.

Within those limits, what the research does offer is a more precise place to draw a line than “give less” or “care less,” neither of which reflects what these findings actually show. The pattern across both studies points toward something narrower and more workable: the cost shows up specifically when generosity stops being a two-way exchange, when there’s no boundary marking where someone else’s need ends and a person’s own time, energy, or limits begin. Protecting that boundary, keeping the exchange moving in both directions rather than absorbing everything asked of you without anything coming back, is what the data ties to better outcomes on both sides, for the relationship and for the person doing the giving.