A Soft Landing
Throughout my career, I've experienced periods of significant organizational change that stretched me in ways I never could have imagined. One of the greatest challenges of leadership has been supporting talented colleagues through difficult transitions, including times when I had to deliver news that would change the course of someone's career.
Years ago, I went through a layoff myself, and I promised that if I were ever in the position to deliver that news, I would do everything possible to give people a soft landing.
For me, a soft landing means helping people see and remember their accomplishments, providing contacts and résumé reviews, offering career coaching, and reminding them of their skills when the shock makes them forget who they are. It means opening my network so they can connect with recruiters and opportunities, and making sure they know that they are not their job — they are the value they bring, and that value travels with them.
I think the biggest way for companies to provide a true soft landing is to retool people for new roles. Too often, I’ve seen organizations lay off talented staff only to later repost similar positions at lower salaries, forgetting that subject matter expertise and skills are transferable. By investing in retraining and upskilling, companies can retain institutional knowledge and give loyal employees a path forward instead of pushing them out.
A layoff can feel like a death. It can bring intense stress and leave people feeling like they’ve failed, even when the decision was completely out of their control. This weight is even heavier for those with children or for the primary earners in a household, who may feel the immediate financial and emotional pressure of needing to provide. Care should be taken to recognize and understand this reality, because the way the message is delivered — and the support offered — can make all the difference in how someone recovers.
During periods of organizational change, I've always believed that leadership doesn't end when difficult decisions are made—it becomes even more important. Whenever I've had the responsibility of supporting people through career transitions, I've worked closely with Human Resources to ensure every conversation was handled with dignity, empathy, and respect.
Before each conversation, I prepared by thinking about the individual—their contributions, their concerns, and what support they might need in those first difficult moments. Between meetings, I took a few quiet moments to clear my mind so I could be fully present for the next person.
After sharing the news, my focus shifted immediately to helping people move forward. I encouraged them to gather performance reviews, peer feedback, and job descriptions to support their job search. I shared my network of recruiters and professional contacts, connected colleagues with one another, and offered résumé reviews, interview preparation, and salary negotiation coaching. Often, my greatest contribution was helping people recognize strengths and career opportunities they hadn't yet seen in themselves.
The support didn't end when the conversations were over. I continued checking in, celebrating new opportunities, making introductions, and encouraging people as they navigated the next chapter of their careers. Many of those professional relationships have continued long after we stopped working together, growing into friendships built on trust, shared experiences, and mutual respect.
Those experiences reinforced my belief that leadership is ultimately about humanism—seeing people as whole human beings with lives, families, dreams, and aspirations beyond the workplace. They strengthened my commitment to servant leadership: removing obstacles, creating psychological safety, and using whatever influence I have to help others succeed.
Throughout my own career, I've benefited from mentors who opened doors, colleagues who believed in me, and leaders who invested in my growth. Supporting others through difficult transitions is one way I can pay that kindness forward. Titles and projects eventually change, but how we treat people—and how they remember being treated—becomes part of our legacy as leaders.
In the end, the greatest soft landing we can offer is to let people leave knowing they were valued, respected, and never alone.