My honest observations of working here are that the company speaks endlessly about its magical culture, yet if you asked anyone to explain how it is actually different from anywhere else, you would be met with the same vague phrases you hear in every other mediocre workplace. Culture becomes this enchanting word they love to throw around, but it holds about as much meaning as a fortune cookie. It sounds nice, but it tells you nothing.
The whole illusion is reinforced by the fact that the business, even at senior levels, is predominantly filled with people who have never previously worked in the industry. They arrive bright-eyed and enthusiastic, and within weeks they are fully brainwashed into believing this so-called culture is unique and revolutionary. I found it to be the complete opposite. It was toxic, confusing, and easily the worst working environment I have experienced. Somehow the lack of industry experience at the top combined with loud declarations of greatness created a perfect storm of delusion.
Anytime someone on the team offered actual constructive feedback, management treated it like we’d personally insulted their entire family tree. You could say, “Hey, maybe this process could be smoother,” and suddenly you’re being ushered back into line like a rebellious toddler at a supermarket.It got to the point where sharing an idea felt dangerous and brave.
Meanwhile, the company continues its recruitment theatre, selling itself as an industry unicorn with its incredible working environment, unbelievable incentives, sky-high retention, relationship-building sales approach, and best deals known to mankind. It is a huge list of promises that sounds like it was written by someone who has never actually worked in a functioning business. And of course, the reality looks nothing like the glossy pitch.
The performance is kept alive brilliantly on LinkedIn, which has become the new Facebook for attention seekers showing off coffees, holidays, selfies, houses, and self-appointed inspiration. Every day there is another dramatic post about how wonderful the company is, accompanied by team photos with everyone smiling like they have just been told to look happy for national propaganda day. The level of fakeness is almost impressive. When a company needs that much noise to prove how amazing it is, you can be certain the reality is the exact opposite. It all feels like throwing bucketfuls of glitter into the air, hoping that one speck lands convincingly. Meanwhile, the people who genuinely know what they are doing in the industry simply get on with the job without broadcasting every breath online.
I worked for the company for a short period, just long enough to see behind the curtain. I left at the same time as many others, which created a kind of unspoken solidarity, like we were all quietly acknowledging that the ship was not as steady as advertised. Nothing says strong company culture quite like a queue at the exit.
The work was described as fast-moving and exciting, but in reality, it felt like being pushed into chaos with contradicting instructions from people who were guessing. Leadership at the very top communicated often but rarely explained anything, and the idea of work-life balance was treated like folklore from a distant planet. The only genuinely positive part was the other employees who were also trying to navigate the madness with humour and survival instincts.
Another layer of chaos came from the constantly changing commission structure, which was tinkered with so often it became obvious the aim was to pay out as little as possible. During my time there, the only people who ever saw commission with any regularity were the top performers who had been with the company for more than five years, and even they went through long stretches where nothing was paid. This was especially bleak considering the commission was already the lowest in the industry by quite some distance. To earn anything at all, you practically needed to sell at least eight properties every month, and even then, you were penalised if a sale fell through. The company would keep its six thousand pound fee without blinking, yet deduct your two hundred pounds from your salary as though you personally caused the collapse of the sale. There were several occasions where people ended a quarter in negative equity and literally owed the company money.
It genuinely felt like someone had binged one too many motivational podcasts on “treat them mean, keep them keen” and decided this was the ideal approach for managing sales staff. Unsurprisingly, this was just one of many flaws that occur when a sales department is overseen by people from marketing backgrounds—individuals who had never sold anything more complicated than a raffle ticket yet somehow took it upon themselves to train actual salespeople. It was a constant and exhausting battle, and predictably a recipe for disaster.
From what I gather, the company hired an expensive consultant who aggressively changed a number of things including targets and commission and lectured the sales team about performance and “not rewarding failure.” The problem? He had very little sales success himself, which became obvious later. His approach created anxiety and made people feel replaceable, contradicting the company’s stated values about stability and support. The entire experience came off as poor judgment from the leadership and damaging to morale.
In fairness, there were senior guys on the sales team which are great and helped me so much in settling into the role. The sales manager, also gave us hope due to his experience, and he tried tirelessly to champion the sales team. While he did manage to change some of the lunacy, his hands were tied, and unsurprisingly, he left nearly as soon as he arrived.
As if the commission fiasco was not enough, the bonuses added another layer of absurdity. These were supposedly based on both team and individual performance and paid at the end of the year, which sounded promising until you actually experienced how it worked. Imagine the scene: everyone is pulled into a team meeting and told that the business had hit its financial targets for the year, so the team bonus would be paid to everyone just before Christmas. Champagne corks pop, balloons appear out of nowhere, people are hugging and high-fiving like they have just won a national lottery. And then payday arrives, and reality hits like a cold slap. The bonus is means-tested based on how long you have been with the company, something conveniently not mentioned during the celebrations.
For the chosen few who did receive anything close to a real bonus, many later discovered that the amount had been reduced because the marketing team’s jolly to Dubai that year had conveniently dragged the company’s profit below the threshold for higher payouts. Nothing screams culture quite like one department’s holiday reducing another department’s income. And as for the individual bonus, that was nothing more than a corporate myth. During my time there, not a single person in sales received it, not even those who had sold in the region of one hundred and fifty properties. Marketing, of course, were paid in full, making the divide in the office even wider and the resentment even stronger. It all felt very deliberate, as though the marketing decision maker thought pitting teams against each other was some kind of motivational strategy.
As if the contradictions were not already obvious enough, there was also the bizarre double standard around office attendance. Some people were expected to be in the office every single day without exception, while others, no prizes for guessing which departments, seemed to float in and out as they pleased. The MD was a prime example, regularly working from home while simultaneously banging the drum about the importance of being together in the office and building culture through presence. It was hard not to laugh at the hypocrisy. The people enforcing the rules were the least likely to follow them, which only added to the resentment and widened the divide inside the company. It was yet another reminder that the so-called culture only applied when it was convenient for those at the top.
Another tradition I particularly disagreed with was the Friday morning team video meeting, which felt like a weekly performance where certain people were clearly trying to justify their own existence. It was the same routine every time, forced smiles, nodding heads, and a collective effort to avoid mentioning any of the real issues affecting the business. The highlight or lowlight, depending on how you look at it, was when a spreadsheet was put up on the screen showing everyone’s individual sales performance for the month. Some people would be mocked, others laughed at, all under the guise of banter or motivation, but in reality it was absolutely humiliating. It summed up the culture perfectly, pretend positivity layered over an undercurrent of fear, embarrassment, and misplaced ego.
What made the whole situation even more laughable was the company’s pride in its supposed ability to get s##t done. This mantra was repeated so often you would think things were being transformed at lightning speed, but the reality was the complete opposite. The simplest of changes, basic everyday things that should have been fixed the same afternoon, took weeks, sometimes months, and some never changed at all. Instead, there were endless meetings about absolutely nothing, each one circling the same empty promises that something was in progress. It became a bizarre form of corporate theatre where action was replaced with discussion, and discussion was mistaken for progress. For a company obsessed with its own efficiency, it was astonishing how little actually happened.
In the end, the entire experience felt like a masterclass in how corporate mythology can be used to mask dysfunction. If you enjoy theatrics, confusion, loud self-promotion, and a culture that exists only in slogans, you may find it entertaining. But if you prefer a healthy environment, competent leadership, and authenticity rather than brainwashing, you will quickly realise this is not the place to find it.
