A man sits in front of his desk at his office late at night and has an exhausted expression on his face

TL;DR SUMMARY: Calling employees a “human firewall” can frame cyber security as something people provide for their employer, rather than a capability that benefits them too. A people-centred approach can make security knowledge useful wherever people work, live and interact online.

 

“Human firewall” is one of those cyber security phrases that makes immediate sense. Technology provides one layer of defence, while employees provide another, spotting suspicious emails, challenging unusual requests, reporting incidents and avoiding risky behaviour.

There’s an awkwardness in the metaphor, though. A firewall is a component of an organisation’s security architecture. It exists to protect something. People have their own careers, priorities and reasons for developing new skills, and those reasons don’t necessarily disappear when they walk through the office door.

That distinction raises an interesting question about how employees experience security education. If people are repeatedly told that they’re an essential part of the organisation’s cyber defences, what does that actually mean from their perspective? Do they see themselves as developing a useful capability, or as being given another corporate responsibility to carry?

Who benefits from being the human firewall?

For an organisation, the appeal is straightforward. Employees represent another opportunity to detect threats before they become incidents. Better awareness can mean fewer successful phishing attempts, more effective reporting and quicker responses when something goes wrong. For an employee, the picture can look rather different. An organisation might tell someone that they’re an important part of its security defences, then present them with an annual training module containing a series of rules about what they should and shouldn’t click. The organisation gains a more secure workforce. The employee gets another mandatory task.

That doesn’t mean people are unwilling to take security seriously. It reflects the way security is often framed: as something employees are expected to do for the protection of the organisation, with relatively little attention given to what they gain from becoming more security-aware themselves. Language contributes to that framing. Calling someone a “human firewall” positions them as a component in a security architecture. Their value becomes connected to their ability to recognise, absorb or stop threats on behalf of the organisation, which can make security feel like another operational obligation rather than a skill worth developing.

People tend to engage differently when they can see something for themselves in what they’re being asked to learn, and that becomes increasingly relevant as the relationship between employers and employees changes.

 

The workplace has changed, and security culture needs to catch up

 

For previous generations of workers, there was a stronger expectation that employment might be a long-term relationship. Someone could spend decades with one organisation, building institutional knowledge and gradually progressing through a career.

That model still exists, of course, but it no longer describes the experience of everyone. Redundancy, restructuring, organisational change and career mobility have become familiar features of working life. Current UK labour market data continues to reflect a degree of employment uncertainty, with the ONS recording 114,000 redundancies in the three months to July 2026, equivalent to 3.9 redundancies per 1,000 employees.

That context changes the relationship people have with their employers. An employee can be committed to doing a good job, contributing to their team and acting professionally without seeing their employer as a permanent part of their identity.

There’s an important distinction here for cyber security. If security education is framed primarily as something employees owe to their organisation, its perceived value can disappear when that employment relationship ends. Someone changing jobs or careers takes their knowledge with them, but much of the organisational context in which that knowledge was taught stays behind.

 

Cyber security skills can belong to the person, too

 

Someone who learns how to recognise social engineering has acquired something useful beyond their current employer. Someone who understands why password managers matter can use that knowledge across their personal accounts. Someone who becomes comfortable questioning an unexpected request for sensitive information can apply the same instinct when dealing with their bank, a utility company or a suspicious message at home.

Those are transferable skills, and treating them that way changes the relationship between security education and the individual.

Instead of presenting awareness as a collection of behaviours that protect the company, organisations can help people develop a practical understanding of how digital threats work and how those threats intersect with everyday life. “Don’t click that link because you could cause a security incident” gives someone a rule to follow. Explaining how attackers manufacture urgency, impersonate trusted people and manipulate decisions gives them a pattern they can recognise elsewhere.

One approach is centred on compliance. The other develops a mental model that can remain useful long after the training module has been forgotten.

 

Security gets more interesting when it leaves the office

 

There’s also a useful blurring happening between work and personal cyber security. People increasingly use similar devices, platforms and behaviours across both parts of their lives. They encounter phishing in personal inboxes, fraudulent messages on their phones and increasingly convincing attempts at impersonation through social platforms and messaging apps.

That creates fertile ground for security education. Someone who has learned to spot manipulation in a workplace scenario may start noticing similar patterns elsewhere. Someone who understands why attackers create artificial urgency might become more sceptical when a message supposedly from their bank demands immediate action.

The reverse can happen too. People bring experiences from their personal lives into work. They may already have encountered scams, account takeovers, impersonation attempts or suspicious online behaviour, and those experiences can become useful security knowledge inside an organisation.

A genuinely people-centred approach recognises that learning doesn’t begin when someone logs into their employer’s training platform, and it doesn’t end when they log off.

The NCSC’s Cyber Security Culture Principles take a similar approach, emphasising the importance of understanding how people behave and why, designing security around the realities of their work, creating psychological safety and developing a culture where people can see value in improving their security knowledge.

 

From human firewall to human agency

 

Perhaps the more useful question, then, isn’t whether employees are the organisation’s human firewall. It’s what organisations want people to become as a result of their investment in security education.

A people-centred security model treats employees as participants in security rather than infrastructure that security happens to run through. Their judgement matters, their experiences matter, their ability to ask questions matters, and so does their willingness to admit when something has gone wrong.

The NCSC makes a similar point in its guidance on security culture, emphasising that people need to feel safe asking for help, reporting issues and admitting mistakes. It also advocates learning and improvement rather than simply identifying who was responsible for an incident.

That has implications for the tools organisations choose, too. A security tool should ideally help people become more capable, rather than simply make them easier to measure.

At Redflags, that people-centred perspective offers a useful way of thinking about security. Technology and education can support people in making better decisions, while the knowledge they gain can retain value beyond the immediate needs of their employer.

Security awareness can easily become transactional. Complete the module, pass the test, don’t click the phishing simulation, report the suspicious email, then repeat the process next year.

A richer model asks what happens between those events. Does someone understand why the behaviour matters? Do they feel comfortable asking for help? Could they explain the risk to a colleague? Would they recognise the same attack outside work? Have they developed an instinct that survives beyond the organisation’s policies and terminology?

Those are harder things to measure, but they may be much closer to what genuine security capability looks like.

 

The employee who leaves takes their security knowledge with them

 

There’s an irony in organisations spending considerable effort trying to make security knowledge part of workplace culture while employees are increasingly mobile. When someone leaves, the organisation loses a member of its security ecosystem, yet the knowledge that person has developed doesn’t have to leave the wider security community with them.

If someone moves on with a better understanding of authentication, social engineering, data protection, scams and digital risk, that knowledge travels with them. It might help their next employer, their family or their own digital life.

From an organisational perspective, the immediate benefit has moved elsewhere. From a wider security perspective, knowledge has spread.

That offers a different way to think about the purpose of security education. Instead of building a workforce trained primarily to comply with one company’s security rules, organisations can help people develop knowledge and instincts that remain useful as their circumstances change.

The human firewall metaphor imagines people as a defensive layer surrounding an organisation. A people-centred approach starts with the person and recognises that their relationship with the organisation may be temporary, while the capabilities they develop can stay with them for years.

The goal, then, might be less about turning people into better firewalls and more about helping them become better at recognising when something doesn’t look right, understanding why, knowing what to do next and feeling confident enough to act.

That benefits an employer, but it also gives the individual something worth taking with them.

 

Key takeaways

  • “Human firewall” can frame employees primarily as organisational security controls, rather than people developing a capability of their own.
  • Security education has greater potential when people can see personal and transferable value in what they’re learning.
  • The boundary between workplace and personal cyber security is increasingly porous, allowing knowledge to move in both directions.
  • A people-centred security culture can build confidence, judgement and agency alongside the behaviours an organisation needs from its workforce.