Pros
I was warmly welcomed when I joined—there was a strong onboarding glow that initially felt very affirming, and for my first three months or so, I truly felt like the company was everything they’d promised it would be, and that I’d hoped it would be. Looking back now, though, those first months seem more like they were love-bombing me, priming me to overlook all the red flags that followed. Another pro is how unusually strong the time-off policies are—on paper, at least. The four-day work week* and the multiple weeks of annual office closures were a huge part of what drew me (and many others, I’m sure) to CHANI. But as time went on, I found that my time away from work became more and more of a necessity, just to preserve my sanity. I also received generous corporate gifts multiple times a year (one holiday package alone easily exceeded $250 in value), which excited me, having never worked before at a place that seemed to have money to throw around like that. Finally, there are some genuinely kind, committed people at the company—people who care deeply and give their all,* and who made it possible for me to survive there for as long as I did. *more on these in the “cons” section
Cons
If something seems too good to be true, it probably is. Unfortunately, that was my experience at CHANI. Let’s start with the thing I imagine excites people the most about working here: the promise of a 32-hour work week. Sadly, it wasn’t a reality for many staff. I routinely saw teammates work waaaaay beyond that, pushing through burnout and sometimes compromising their health, because the culture implicitly rewarded overwork. For example, leadership frequently talked about the need for everyone to have an “abundance mindset”—which, in practice, seemed to mean not pushing back or raising concerns about being asked to do far too much. I even witnessed staff publicly praise themselves (or be praised by others) for working through illness to get a project across the finish line on-time. Trying to hold that 32-hour line or question unrealistic timelines could get you reprimanded for not being a team player. And trying to prioritize well-being over hustle, as per the company’s professed values, could bring you under scrutiny for—ironically—“not being a good culture fit.” In fact, I found that raising concerns in any meaningful way was discouraged, in general. When I expressed discomfort with contradictions I was experiencing between the company’s stated values and its internal practices, it was gently implied that it wouldn’t be in my best interests to pursue the issue. The fact that the internal staff wiki had a page about restorative justice and that the page was blank the whole time I was there turned out to be an unintentionally apt metaphor (especially after seeing the company fire almost 20% of the workforce this spring, and knowing that, for a number of the fired employees—whom I spoke with personally after they were terminated—the first time they learned about the “issues” they were being fired for was the moment of termination). There was also a persistent sense of insider culture and cliquishness—even, at times, a “mean girls” energy in how certain social dynamics played out. Slack-wide “fun” initiatives (“TODAY WE TYPE IN ALL CAPS, OKAY??”) were frequent, often felt juvenile, and could feel like forced participation in inside jokes. Therapy-speak was widely used in ways that felt performative and, at times, emotionally manipulative. The email and Slack culture leaned heavily into emoji use, ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ cutesy ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ communication, and a level of positivity that seemed to stifle dissent and bordered on toxic. Meetings occasionally devolved into side-chatting and giggling, with social dynamics even appearing to influence some project decisions and undercutting internal efforts to collaborate. Another way the company’s public messaging conflicts with its internal practices? While the founder has spoken publicly (in her weekly podcast) about CHANI avoiding AI due to environmental and ethical concerns, AI use was not only present internally–it was encouraged. At the 2024 staff retreat, there was a session where staff were asked to brainstorm ways to use AI to increase the company’s efficiency. After that, I noticed teams—including my own—using AI tools more and more often to speed up the turnaround time on deliverables, especially as leadership increased project loads without adding resourcing. Contradictions like these were not meaningfully acknowledged or addressed during my time there. Promotions and raises seemed to operate on vibes, not structures. There were no performance review systems, no promotion pathways, and no cost-of-living adjustments. Advancement appeared to depend more on personal rapport with leadership than on merit, skill, or tenure. And those kind, committed people I mentioned? They often seemed just as stuck as I was, with little power to intervene or change things. Many of us joined because we believed in the values the company claims to stand for—and we genuinely tried to uphold them at work. But when leadership won’t be held accountable, the disconnect between CHANI’s public image and internal reality becomes demoralizing. If you choose to join the company, just know that even the best-intentioned colleagues can’t shield you from the broader toxicity and dysfunction in the long-term.