Clues Your Star Employee Is Secretly Plotting Their Escape

Leadership is often described as “seeing the big picture.” Very poetic. The problem is, when you’re staring at the big picture all day, you can miss the tiny brushstrokes that actually keep the picture from catching fire. And in the workplace, those tiny brushstrokes—like a missing coffee mug or a sudden wardrobe shift—can tell you more about your team’s morale than any color-coded engagement survey.

The truth is, subtle changes are sneaky. They don’t show up with a neon sign flashing, “HEY BOSS, I’M LOSING INTEREST.” No, they slip in quietly while you’re buried in budget spreadsheets, project deadlines, and the great mystery of who keeps putting the empty coffee pot back on the burner.

A woman with sticky notes on her eyes as if her eyes are closed and sleeping at her desk.

One day, you have Linda—office superstar, resident overachiever, queen of “Sure, I’ll do it!” She’s the type who not only organizes the potluck but also alphabetizes the dessert table. She bakes brownies that taste like a hug and always knows where the good pens are. Fast-forward a few months, and suddenly Linda’s in stealth mode—no extra projects, no potluck sign-up, no brownies. The only thing she’s bringing is her laptop to meetings, and even that feels begrudging.

Then there’s Bob. Bob’s desk used to look like Pinterest exploded—family photos, souvenirs from company trips, an intimidating tower of glitter gel pens, and a coffee mug that read, “World’s Okayest Employee” (which was wildly inaccurate because Bob was great). Now? His desk could be an IKEA showroom. Clean. Minimal. Devoid of personality. Just one sad stapler in the center, like it’s waiting for the end times.

And don’t forget Tracy—the team’s walking sunshine ray. She was the unofficial greeter, new hire tour guide, and keeper of the community candy jar. Then one day… the candy jar is empty. The next week, it’s gone. Now Tracy arrives wearing noise-canceling headphones, laser-focused on her screen, and moving with the speed of someone avoiding a mall kiosk salesperson.

Or Marcus—once the brainstorm champion, tossing out big ideas like Oprah handing out cars. “You get an idea! You get an idea!” Now? Crickets. He stares at the table in meetings like he’s trying to crack a secret code, occasionally blinking just to prove he’s still alive.

And then there’s Priya—the team fashion icon. She once brought the runway to the office, her outfits worthy of a “Corporate Chic” spread. Then one day she’s in the same hoodie for three straight days. At first, you think, Minimalist phase? But then the webcam mysteriously stays off in every Zoom call.

How Did We Get Here?

These shifts don’t happen overnight. It’s not like Linda woke up and decided, “Today I will never bake again.” They’re more like a dimmer switch slowly sliding down. And sometimes, the reason is sitting in the corner office.

It might be:

• Death by Micromanagement – Hovering over every decision until their creativity packs up and leaves a note that says, “It’s not me, it’s you.”

• Recognition Deficit Disorder – Consistently overlooking their contributions until they stop bothering to contribute.

• Friday 4:58 p.m. Meetings – If you do this, please stop. This is a crime against humanity.

• Overload without Offload – Giving more responsibility without taking away anything else, as if they have Hermione Granger’s time-turner tucked in their desk drawer.

  
  

The Detective Work of Leadership

If you want to keep your team’s spark alive, you have to be part boss, part therapist, and part Sherlock Holmes—with fewer pipe-smoking breaks. That means:

• Notice the props. Desk plants that are dying? Personal photos that vanish? That’s a plot twist worth investigating.

• Measure the laughter. When’s the last time they laughed in a meeting? (And no, your “Excel joke” doesn’t count.)

• Track the treats. If the office baker retires their spatula, something’s up.

• Ask open-ended questions. Not, “You’re not quitting, are you?” but, “I’ve noticed you’re quieter lately—how’s everything going?”

• Be the thermostat, not the thermometer. You’re not just here to take the temperature; you’re here to set it.

  
  

Why This Matters

By the time disengagement shows up on a performance review, you’re too late. You’ll be at their going-away party, halfheartedly eating cake while wondering if you could have done something. Meanwhile, Bob’s stapler is watching you from the breakroom counter like it knows all your failures.

People don’t usually burn out in a big dramatic moment—it’s death by a thousand tiny cuts. And your job is to notice and heal those cuts before they turn into an exit interview.

Also, please—no more Friday 4:58 meetings. Ever.

Final Takeaway

Leadership isn’t just steering the ship—it’s making sure your crew isn’t quietly building a raft in the cargo hold, hoarding snacks, and plotting their escape to a sunnier island with better Wi-Fi. It’s noticing when someone has stopped showing up on deck, when their enthusiasm for the voyage has been replaced with a thousand-yard stare, and when the storm they’re facing isn’t in the open sea—it’s in their own cabin. A great leader doesn’t just chart the course; they walk the deck, talk to the crew, plug small leaks before they sink morale, and keep reminding everyone why the destination is worth it. Because no matter how skilled the captain, the ship only sails well if the crew feels valued, seen, and part of the adventure—not just passengers eyeing the lifeboats and waiting for the next port to jump ship.