While he works for us, he is too expensive. When he leaves, we look for someone like him. And we are willing to pay more.
Until yesterday, we were explaining why his salary could not increase. Today, we are explaining why we have to raise our offer to attract a strong candidate. The job is the same. All that has changed is that the person we counted on staying is no longer here.
While she was here, her reliability rarely drew attention. The work got done, clients received answers, and mistakes were corrected before they reached the manager. Over time, we forget how much knowledge and care go into a day when nothing goes wrong. We begin to believe that the work simply runs that way.
Then the person who made that calm possible asks to discuss her pay.
Suddenly, we need more justification. What has changed? Why now? Were we not satisfied with the existing agreement? We overlook the fact that the agreement may have been made years ago, while responsibilities have grown in the meantime. What the employee once took on occasionally has become their regular work. Their salary remains tied to the old role, while expectations moved on to the new one long ago.
Someone who does not threaten to leave can easily end up last in line for a conversation they deserve. We know they will come in tomorrow morning. We know they will not leave the work unfinished. If they say something is wrong, we listen, but assume we still have time.
Their sense of responsibility becomes our reason to postpone our own.
When they hand in their resignation, everything moves at a different pace. A meeting can happen immediately. The budget is reopened. Possibilities appear that did not exist just a few days earlier. Even if they decide to stay, it is hard to avoid the question now running through their mind: if this was possible, why did I have to leave for you to take this conversation seriously?
If they do leave, we start calculating the cost of replacing them. Usually, we look first at the new employee's salary. But then come the time needed for recruitment, training, and months during which someone else has to check the work. A colleague takes on additional duties. The manager returns to questions someone else had been handling for years. We explain to a client why something that used to be done quickly now takes longer.
The new person may be excellent. Still, they have yet to learn the work, the people, and the arrangements that never made it into the job description. It is not their fault that they do not yet know what their predecessor spent years learning.
Of course, some companies genuinely cannot afford to increase salaries. Even good work cannot create money that is not there. A pay rise has to be sustainable and justified by contribution, with fair treatment of everyone else. Not every outside offer can become an obligation for the employer.
But a real constraint calls for an honest conversation. What is possible now? When will we review the terms again? Can we reduce the responsibilities if we can no longer pay for them appropriately? If none of that is possible, we can at least accept that an employee has a reason to seek better conditions, without calling their departure a betrayal.
And the people who remain are watching.
They see that their colleague did not receive better terms when she took on additional work, but when she brought an offer from another company. They see that a calm conversation does not carry the same weight as a resignation ready to be handed in. They draw a perfectly reasonable conclusion: before the next conversation about pay, go to an interview for another job.
The company itself encourages the behaviour it will later complain about.
So it is worth asking one uncomfortable question before we next say there is no money for a pay rise: how much would we offer today to someone coming in to do this job?
If the answer is more than we pay the person who already does it well, then the conversation about their salary is already overdue.
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