I’ve sat across the table from thousands of leaders wrestling with the same knot in their stomach. It’s time to let someone go, and they can’t make themselves do it. So, they wait. They coached for the third time when the first two didn’t work. They tell themselves it’s kindness. It isn’t. It’s cowardice wearing kindness as a costume.
Think about how many times you have seen a “C Player” turn things around, becoming a solid B or even an A…… and remain there?
Here’s the reframe that changed how I think about this, and I want you to sit with it. You are not firing anyone.
You are offering them back to the marketplace.
Think about what that person represents. Talent. Energy. A skill set that builds something real inside your walls. At some point maybe on day thirty, that skill set stopped matching what the seat needed next. That’s not a character flaw. That’s just growth outpacing fit. Companies change speed. People don’t always change speed with them. That’s not a crime, it’s physics.
What do you owe that person? Not an apology. Not a eulogy. You owe them speed and honesty, because every extra month you let them sit in a seat that’s wrong for them is a month you’ve stolen from their next chapter. The marketplace is enormous. Somewhere out there is a company, a team, a mission that is a perfect match for exactly what this person has to offer and every day you delay, you’re the only thing standing between them and that match.
That’s the conversation. Not “you’re not good enough.” Instead: “This seat has outgrown what you can give it, or you’ve outgrown what this seat can give you and I’d rather hand you back to the market today, with your dignity and your references intact, than wait eighteen months and hand you back damaged.”
A players, B players, C players, it doesn’t matter. Every one of them deserves that same clarity, delivered fast. The tragedy isn’t termination. The tragedy is the slow bleed of the person who knows deep down they’re not thriving, watching everyone around them pretend not to notice, losing confidence a little more every quarter while leadership “gives it more time.” That’s not mercy. That’s organizational cowardice, and it costs the person far more than a direct conversation ever would.
The feelings. They’re real, and they matter, and no reframe erases them in the room. Someone will still feel shocked, grief, anger, maybe relief they won’t admit yet. Your job isn’t to talk them out of feeling it. Your job is to be human, be brief, be clear about the “why,” and then get out of the way so they can start moving. Don’t dress it up with corporate mush. Don’t drag it into a thirty-minute performance review of the last two years. Say what’s true, say it with respect, and let them go do their next great work somewhere else.
The best leaders I’ve studied and the best companies I’ve studied and served, treat every departure as a talent handoff, not a failure. You’re not closing a door on someone. You’re opening the market back up to them. Do it quickly. Do it honestly.
Do it like you believe they still have somewhere great to go because they do.