I’ve only ever worked for three companies, each with its own distinct approach to recruitment, retention, and attrition.
I started my career agency-side, where layoffs tapered off after the 2008 financial crisis. The company endured a very public, unrelated split, and yet the conditions felt stable even if the culture seemed chaotic as the new organization found its footing.
The decision to leave an agency role that was, for all intents and purposes, the picture of comfort and growth wasn’t easy. I was motivated by work-life balance (a thing I’d later rebrand as work-life coexistence), which felt like a a contrived construct when my days were consumed with billability, team leadership, and business development.
Layoffs were never previously top-of-mind when taking interviews. As a woman, I felt conditioned to parse through corporate word salad in search for things like policies for family leave, equity programs for women in leadership, etc. more than any other type of “protection.”
My experience taking maternity leave twice was enough to put me off ever further expanding my family. The process was painful, with a paltry policy nested under short-term disability. I navigated two high risk pregnancies without support from human resources to guide me through taking the leave; the standard was poorly understood because it didn’t really exist.
Over the past couple of years, a new normal has emerged. RIFs have been happening en-masse, especially post-pandemic, with few industries spared. In the beginning, questions from connections flooded my LinkedIn feed, with concerned people, particularly women on maternity leave, asking about the legality of layoffs while on FMLA. They would soon learn that they were likely not protected, because even FMLA has fine print.
What followed were stories from parents who were on leave for births, adoptions, etc., fully intending to return to their roles once their time away was up. Instead, they received ominous requests for remote meetings, templated emails with links to separation agreements, or even worse, they went to log into their work emails only to find that their access had been restricted or revoked, learning later that their employment had been terminated.
Now that we’re past the pandemic, it’s important to put this all in perspective.
The recruitment and retention processes is flawed. Employers barely comply with salary-band transparency; entire departments exist to shield them from liability. Long-story-boring: the employer is protected. They’re boxed in by labor laws and then some, and kept enough above board to get by.
The employee(s)? The savvy ones who know what to ask might be OK. Decoding the dribble in a disability policy to understand pregnancy protections, and committing the company handbook to memory to comply with the rules out of an abundance of caution are only part of the equation. Severance and separation agreements should fall somewhere in between.
Many companies have this language drowning in legalese. Stipulations exist for years of service and/or experience, seniority, even job function.
RIFs are the new normal; they’ve become routine headlines while the policies for severance remains hidden. Employees (including prospective hires) should be given the benefit of reviewing the policies before signing an offer to understand and potentially negotiate their eventual exit, should it be untimely.
The idea of one week per year, benefits until the end of the month, or a final paycheck inclusive of unused PTO is unacceptable and void of accountability. I don’t expect “humanity” when speaking “corporate” — I do, however, expect that a company should have to put its values in plain text.
Treating severance as part of a benefits package places a silver lining on the rise in RIFs; you can negotiate your worth in a way that reflects a value that is complementary to your base compensation.
In the same commonplace coordination of benefits that happens between setting up or transitioning 401Ks and signing up for medical coverage, clearly disclosing RIF protocols and severance policies sets a precedent for big-picture planning; it’s prophylactic in nature.
In the spirit of the beloved Kit-Kat jingle, I think it’s time for corporations to give us all one big break.