Quiet quitting

Once is coincidence. Twice is remarkable. Three times is a pattern. Fascinating, then. If you ask me.

So I had 3 conversations with 3 different people about their evaluations. Or "performance reviews." That sounds a lot more interesting right away. Say it out loud. You notice the difference immediately, don't you?

Anyway. These 3 people. Doing perfectly well. At different companies. Strong work ethic and sense of responsibility. Thinking 10 steps ahead. Invested in people. Strong "people managers." As it happens, I know all 3 of them well.

The past year was quite challenging for all 3. Their direct manager was out for a long stretch. And well, no replacement. So it was up to these 3 to keep the shop running as best they could. In short: two jobs at once. Teams. Meetings. Events, travel. Presentations. Working weekends. A permanent panda look. The home front starting to crack. But hey, anything for the company.

And then came the performance reviews. And all 3 scored: "meets expectations." Rico Verhoeven couldn't have hit them harder. After all their backbreaking work, this was their reward. The intense disappointment. Anger, too. Because if all of this is "normal," then what counts as exceptional?

The familiar distribution: 10 to 20% "exceeds expectations." 5 to 10% "below expectations." And everything in between, "meets expectations." So no matter how hard you try, statistically not everyone can get "exceeds." But this is held to rigidly. Because otherwise the manager has some explaining to do. To me, this reeks of "organized mediocrity."

An appraisal system dreamed up in the '80s and '90s, meant for a stable and well-staffed organization. And you're welcome to call me an old sourpuss, but I think we've arrived in an era where we have all sorts of things — but not the above.

The message is harsh. Everything you've done, then, falls within expectations. For your mental health, it's a dangerous signal. Keep going like this? Then you can be sure you're on the slippery slope toward burning out from stress. Or you draw a line. And start doing only what you're formally required to do. Welcome, "quiet quitting."

But maybe it isn't "quiet quitting" at all. Maybe it's recovery behavior. An attempt to find balance again after losing it completely. Which may also mean letting go of some of your involvement with the organization. Not out of unwillingness. But precisely out of self-preservation. Perhaps with a new question: "Do I still fit here?" Or "Do I still want this?"

The way I see it, it isn't the people who are "quiet quitting." Rather, the organization itself is slowly parting ways with exactly those people who were once willing to give the most. Feel free to read that sentence again. What a shame, isn't it? For everyone involved. And then everyone wonders why so many coaches are needed in the Netherlands.. Well, not me.

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