When Giving the Benefit of the Doubt Backfires

A designer who showed up to a review with the wrong project—accidentally revealing they’d been freelancing on the side during company time.

A team member claiming to be based in one country, but turned out to be living in another—causing problems with the local tax officials.

A staff member who simply didn’t show up to an important client meeting, and later said they “just didn’t feel like it.” No notice. No apology.

And then, of course, the classic: disappearing for days at a time, no communication, no explanation—just radio silence.

In every one of these situations, the rest of the team knew. They’d clocked the signs. They’d picked up on the disengagement. They knew this person was taking the piss.

But nobody said anything.

Because they assumed the boss must already be aware.
Because they didn’t want to be that person.
Because they didn’t feel it was their place to intervene.

So the behaviour continued. And that’s where the real damage starts—not just in the poor performance, but in the silence around it.

The Culture of Not Showing Up

We’re living through a moment where not showing up—literally and figuratively—is becoming weirdly common.

Some people blame remote work. Others blame a generational shift. Still others say it’s a response to burnout, capitalism, or a hangover from the pandemic.

But here’s the thing: you can recognise these cultural forces without excusing behaviour that directly harms a team.

I’m all for boundaries. I’ve spent the last decade encouraging people to design better, more sustainable work cultures. I’ve fought hard against burnout and presenteeism. I’ve seen what happens when people are pushed too far.

But what we’re seeing now isn’t just self-protection—it’s a withdrawal of responsibility. It’s showing up late, doing the bare minimum, then logging off mid-crisis without a word. And when leaders hesitate to act—for fear of being seen as out of touch, or unempathetic—it’s the team who suffers.

It’s Not Just the Work That Gets Hurt

When underperformance or absenteeism goes unaddressed, it doesn’t just affect delivery—it corrodes morale.

Teams start to ask: If they’re getting away with it, why am I even trying?

It’s especially demoralising when the person coasting is on the same salary band—or even higher—than others who are consistently showing up and putting in the effort. The sense of fairness breaks down. People begin to feel like mugs for caring. And over time, that disillusionment starts to spread.

It’s a ripple effect. One unchecked case of disengagement can quietly lower the standard for the whole team. Not because people are lazy—but because they’re human. And humans take cues from each other.

I Get the Temptation

Let me be honest: I get it.

One of my first jobs was working weekends in a supermarket while I was still in school. I’d regularly hide out in the warehouse or cold room, just so I could dodge another boring task. I was on minimum wage. The job had no real future. So I coasted when I could.

But there is a difference between slacking off in a part-time summer job at 17—and quietly checking out from a well paid professional role, where people are relying on you to deliver.

If you’ve signed up for a role with high expectations and generous pay, you have a responsibility to meet the standards you agreed to. That doesn’t mean you can’t have bad days. It means that when you do, you communicate.

This isn’t hustle culture. It’s basic courtesy.

When Kindness Becomes Complicity

As leaders, we want to believe the best in people. We want to trust that if someone’s underperforming, there’s a good reason. That they’re going through something. And that we can give them the space and support to bounce back.

In most cases, that’s exactly what’s happening. And that’s what we should do.

But very occasionally, people use that kindness—and the ambiguity around the situation—as a kind of weapon. It gives them space to coast, to stretch things out, to get away with behaviour that would normally raise eyebrows. The usual excuse? “No one’s getting hurt. It’s just a big company with deep pockets.”

But someone is getting hurt.

It affects their manager, who’s carrying the weight. It affects their peers, who have to pick up the slack. It eats away at trust. And it risks creating a leadership culture where kindness becomes harder to extend—because nobody wants to be played again.

That’s the real damage.

When good leaders get burned too many times, they can stop offering support altogether—even to people who genuinely need it. That’s not the kind of work environment I want to see. And it’s not one I want to encourage.

So we have to deal with it. Not with cruelty, but with clarity.

So What Can Leaders Do?

1. Set clear expectations.
   Be upfront about what the role demands—and what good performance looks like. Most ambiguity is unintentional. But sometimes, it’s strategic. Having a clear job description of career ladder is a good start.

2. Build trust—but also accountability.
   Teams should feel safe calling out behaviours that affect them. If they can’t say anything, the silence becomes toxic. Psychological safety isn't just about feeling safe from repercussions from your bosses, but from everybody on the team.

3. Stay alert.
   Don’t assume everything’s fine just because nobody’s complaining. The most damaging behaviours often go unreported for too long.

4. Act sooner than feels comfortable.
   Waiting for “one more incident” rarely improves the outcome. Neither does avoiding that awkward conversation in the hope that the behaviour goes away. If your gut’s telling you something’s wrong, it's best to act before it turns into a much bigger and more damaging problem.

We can’t lead through fear, nor should we. But neither can we lead through avoidance.

When people stop showing up—really showing up—it’s our job to notice. To ask the awkward questions. To protect the people who are doing the work. And to remember that empathy isn’t about ignoring problems. It’s about dealing with them in a way that’s fair to everyone.