They say never burn a bridge. While most of my readers hopefully have never attempted to light an actual bridge on fire, that would have to be a subject for another day. Of course, we are talking metaphorically here. Is it ever okay to sever a relationship - to a boss, co-worker, company, customer, or industry? There are obvious cons to burning a bridge, but is there ever a pro? And what if you think you've damaged a relationship and realize you need to recover it? Let's dive into all this today and hopefully give you some considerations before you take action.
Everyone is walking the same direction on both sides? As Dan Cummins would say, "You get the right half!"
No Crystal Ball
So, let's get the most obvious con of burning a bridge out of the way. First and foremost, you never know what the future will hold. You may find yourself working with (or for) the same person again, have to come regain employment with that same company, or do more business with that customer. Many careers can be surprisingly tight-knit and networked, and you just never know when you'll cross paths with someone again. I'm sure we all have had the experience of a co-worker from a previous job joining your new company, or a client leaving your old firm for your new one, or even just running into an old boss at a conference.
So why is leaving on good terms so important? Well, over time, things can change. For example, let's say your former employer that had a toxic work environment that caused you to leave the company. You found another job, but realize the grass is not greener on the other side. Three years later, you find out from a former co-worker new executives came in shortly after your left, recognized the dysfunction, and rebuilt the corporate culture. Now, the company is thriving and has an opening for a leadership role in your old department. But how did you leave things? Did you tell off your old boss who remains at the company? Did you fire off a ranting email to the department about how terrible things were before departing? If you had to get those jabs in on the way out, you may never find a way back in.
So perhaps you find yourself in a similar situation. Ask yourself this: what benefit will you get from taking an action that would leave a bad taste in someone's mouth? If it's simply to take out some frustration, it's not a good choice and you should find an adult kickball league to take out your anger.
Burn Away
Now this may come as a surprise, but I think there's time and a place for burning a bridge. If your company/boss/co-worker/industry is doing something illegal, unethical, or otherwise deplorable, then you have every right to burn away. As a general rule, I like this logic - if the behavior was headline news, would the general public be upset by it? If you think so, I recommend you do some polling amongst friends and family before taking action.
Before you strap on your metaphorical flamethrower, think about the consequences. If you burn the wrong way - exaggerate or not gather the facts, name-call, or overreact - it may come back to haunt you. If you don't size up your response properly, you could end up looking worse than the other guy.
A Bridge Too Far?
From my personal experience, I can tell you there's nothing more satisfying than burning a bridge responsibly. Many years ago, I was in a bad job at a bad company. The company was constantly reorganizing for all the wrong reasons (selfish leadership ambitions primarily), leaving the environment toxic enough to reboot the Captain Planet franchise. In my final reorg, it was a power play by the manager of another department (let's call her Sharon) who convinced a bumbling executive (Kevin) that she should do an "audit" of our department. Given the modus operandi of this organization, we knew this was a foot in the door: the "audit" would reveal a series of falsehoods, and the "auditor" would present buzz-word solutions that would appeal to the executive's ego. My manager (Carly) was a great leader, doing her best to comply with the executive's direction without playing into the hands of Sharon.
Carly's direct reports - myself included - were asked to participate in hours of "auditing" each day. My fellow supervisors and I complied the first few days, where Sharon was asking more general questions about how our department operated. Then, the false accusations began flying. Sharon arrogantly proclaimed our department was poorly run by Carly, and not so subtlety implied that we need to support her findings or lose our positions as supervisors. As an aspiring leader, I wanted to advance in this company... but did not want to do it under unethical pretenses. In my heart, I knew what I had to do: be honest. I scheduled a 1:1 with Sharon, and explained I felt what she was doing was not right - and I would not acquiesce to support her unfounded case. Sharon was irate - she said I'm "not a leader", and needed to accept she was going to lead Carly's department. Just an audit, right?
As someone who puts pride in their work, I did not want to accept this as business as usual for the rest of my career. While Sharon's circus was beginning, I thought it wouldn't hurt to dip my toes into the job market. I interviewed and received an offer for a good job with a great company, shortly after my 1:1 with Sharon. The timing couldn't be more perfect. Sharon's land-grab became official just days after I accepted the job offer. I scheduled another 1:1 with Sharon. In typical Sharon fashion, she dominated the first 20 minutes of conversation - mostly unfairly critiquing Carly's leadership. I looked at her, smiled, and politely slid her my letter of resignation.
If I only took a picture - she looked both shocked, horrified, and in complete disbelief. She thought her bullying tactics would keep everyone in line, and she needed to retain Carly's staff to keep the business running smoothly. At a company that rewards long-term employment (golden handcuffs), it was almost unthinkable for someone to leave before retirement. Many just played the game - get a job, go through dozens of reorgs, then dip out with a nice retirement package. However, your retirement package vests at five years, and perfectly enough, I had just vested earlier that year and would receive a prorated version of the retirement for my years of service.
And how did all this work out for everyone? I'm still with the new company, and just got a promotion to a job I absolutely love. After being unjustly removed from her manager position, my old leader Carly left the company shortly after I did and has been promoted to a director-level role. And Sharon? Well, my friends at the previous company said she left shortly after Carly and I (leaving the nonsensical reorg in shambles) for a big title at another company. She apparently left that job for a "freelance consulting" role. My guess - she was fired, and her new "consulting" gig is a nice way of masking unemployment. Karma.
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