There’s a leadership myth I wish we’d let go of for good: The idea that if you don’t have the perfect thing to say, it’s better to say nothing at all.
The silence that follows uncertainty is often more damaging than the uncertainty itself.
When we don’t know what to say, we stall. We cancel the meeting. We delay the announcement. We ghost the update. We hope things settle down on their own.
But here’s what I’ve seen after nearly 20 years in communications: Silence doesn’t create safety. It creates space for assumptions.
When people don’t hear from leadership, they start to fill in the blanks with whatever’s most immediate, most believable, or most fear-based. Even teams with the best intentions and relationships aren’t immune. When people feel unsure, they start to disconnect, sometimes quietly, sometimes all at once.
Especially now, when layoffs, reorgs, and quiet exits are happening all around us, those blanks are showing up everywhere. When we say nothing, it doesn’t preserve trust. It chips away at it.
I’ve been on both sides of a layoff. I’ve written the messages no one wants to send and received the ones no one wants to get.
What lingers most isn’t the exact wording; it’s the silence that follows. The inbox that stays quiet. The farewell that never happens. The sudden absence of someone who was just in the room.
For those who remain, there’s often a disorienting mix of relief, guilt, and uncertainty. We call it “survivor’s guilt” for a reason because staying can sometimes hurt, too.
In these moments, we don’t need perfect messaging. We need presence.
Reach out. Not to pry. Not to fix. Not to force a conversation. But to acknowledge the person behind the role. A simple message can go a long way:
“I’m thinking of you. You made a difference. I miss seeing your name in my inbox. If you ever feel like connecting, I’d love to stay in touch.”
If a card, a flower delivery, or a shared memory feels right, do it, because silence doesn’t soften the blow. It sharpens it.
Your small gesture might be the thing that reminds someone they mattered.
And for leaders still in the building? You don’t need a comms degree to send a note that says, “Here’s what I know. Here’s what I don’t. Here’s what I’m working on.” That level of clarity can calm more waters than you think.
Say something, even if it’s not polished, even if you’re still figuring it out.
Your voice matters. So does your presence. And people remember who showed up when it was hard to know what to say.
