Earlier this year, two of America’s largest employers laid off staff in AI-led areas of their business. Both copped a lot of flack for it; not for their decision to cut jobs, but how they communicated the decision.
It’s the thought thoughtlessness that counts
In May, General Motors cut 500-600 employees, roughly 10% of its IT division, to “better position the company for the future”. They were told they were being let go in a 15-minute virtual meeting with a human resources representative reading from a script, with no room for questions.
Then last month, Microsoft cut almost 5,000 staff (around 2% of its workforce), including 3,200 staff in its Xbox division (around a fifth of its workforce). A thousand-word all-staff memo announcing the cuts detailed the rationale for the decision, but spent only 83 of its 986 words empathising (but not very well) with affected employees and not one word of apology.
Leadership consultant Kevin Kruse recently cited both examples in an article in Forbes as illustrations of lack of empathy caused by poor emotional intelligence among leaders.
Having advised leaders during restructures, I’m inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt. In my personal experience, most leaders do actually empathise with employees losing jobs. They just underestimate how important it is for them to express it. And they often overestimate the importance of justifying their decision with detailed reasons.
It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it
The typical redundancy announcement puts focuses on explaining the reasons for the decision. When the human impacts are acknowledged, they’re often immediately undermined by the rationale.
Saying “I know this is difficult, but this positions us for the future” might as well say “I can feel your pain, but I care about the bottom line more”. An attempt to demonstrate empathy results in demonstrating the opposite. All in the same sentence.
Kruse advocates a “now-and-next strategy”: first, acknowledge the immediate human cost; second, detail concrete future support; and only then, provide the business rationale.
First, acknowledge the human cost: their loss of income, of the workplace they helped build, the workplace friendships they made.
Then, say what you’ll do about it (and mean it): real severance packages, real timelines, real support, names of people they can talk to. Avoid vague “support is available” statements; they only magnify an uncaring bureaucratic decision.
Only then, explain the business case. The detailed rationale doesn’t even have to be in the same conversation; it’s usually best if it isn’t.
Most people understand that AI is making some work unnecessary today. They don’t need a detailed justification; they need empathy and practical support.
None of this makes redundancy fun. But it can earn respect and loyalty rather than undermining staff morale and trust in their leaders.
