When someone on your team is going through something hard

Good morning. You've probably already had a version of this moment. Someone on your team has been quieter than usual for a few weeks. There's been a look in a one-on-one that caught you off guard, a kind of heaviness that had nothing to do with the agenda. Maybe something was mentioned almost in passing, something personal, and then the conversation moved on because neither of you quite knew what to do with it.

You've thought about it since. You haven't said anything.

The question that stops most leaders in this situation isn't whether to say something. It's what to say, and how far in to go. And underneath that question is something most leaders don't name out loud: a genuine worry about making it worse, or becoming liable in some way.

This is the edition about that moment, and about what a leader's role is in it.

Some leaders overstep. They pull up a chair, settle in for a long conversation, and start counselling, gently probing, problem-solving around personal circumstances, taking on an emotional load that isn't theirs to carry. This usually comes from the right instinct. But it can delay someone accessing professional support, create a dynamic that's hard to unwind, and puts the leader in a role they're not trained for and can't sustain over weeks or months.

Other leaders understep. They notice something, tell themselves it's not their place, give the person a lighter week, and decide that's enough. By the time something more explicit happens, the person has been managing alone for far longer than they should have, and often wonders why nobody said anything or followed up.

Here's what most leaders don't recognise in themselves: the instinct feels like professionalism. It feels like respecting someone's privacy. Not wanting to presume. Not overstepping. But most of the time, it's really about the discomfort of not knowing what to say, and the relief of not having to say it.

The middle position is neither therapist nor bystander. It's something more specific and more achievable than either. And it starts with being honest about which of those two pulls is the one you're more likely to give in to.

You might recognise some of these:

None of these are character failings. They're ordinary responses to a situation that's genuinely uncomfortable, where the stakes feel high and the right move isn't obvious. What's worth recognising is that most of them have one thing in common: they protect the leader from a hard conversation, not the team member from a hard situation.

Noticing isn't diagnosing. It doesn't require knowing what's wrong or having any idea what to do about it. It's a change from someone's baseline, their energy, the way they're showing up, or how they're carrying themselves through the day.

The person who was reliable and has started dropping things. The person who was engaged in meetings and has gone quiet. The person who is clearly working harder than they should need to and getting less done. The one who's started over-apologising, for small things, in a way that reads as if they're bracing for something.

It helps to think of wellbeing less as a fixed state than as something that moves, up and down, week to week. Most people aren't simply fine or not fine. A sustained shift in one direction is worth naming. So is a change that happens faster than usual. Both tell you something.

None of this tells you what's happening. It tells you there's a reason to check in. That's the only thing noticing needs to be.

There's one signal worth paying particular attention to: something mentioned in passing. People rarely disclose in one go. More often, they test. A small mention, slightly more personal than usual, to see how it lands. If it gets picked up, they might share more. If it gets deflected, even kindly, they're likely to close back up. "Something mentioned in passing" is often more deliberate than it sounds.

The instinct to fix is strong in most leaders. When someone is clearly struggling, a kind of readiness comes online: if you listen carefully enough, you'll find something actionable. That's not the goal here.

The goal is to make someone feel seen, heard, and valued, and to understand enough about their experience to know what kind of support makes sense at that moment. That's a narrower task than it sounds, and a more achievable one.

Try these:

"I've noticed you don't seem quite like yourself lately. Not a criticism, just something I wanted to name. How are you going?"

"I want to check in properly, not just the quick version. Do you have a few minutes for a real conversation?"

If they share something significant:

"Thank you for telling me that. I want to make sure you get the right kind of support, can we talk about what would actually be most helpful right now?"

If they minimise or deflect:

"I hear that. I'm not trying to make something out of nothing. I just want you to know I'm paying attention, and you don't have to wait for a crisis to bring something to me."

What you're not doing in these conversations: diagnosing, advising on circumstances outside your expertise, committing to things you can't sustain. What you are doing: creating space, staying present, and listening for enough to know what the next step is.

The value of an initial conversation with someone you trust is not that the person has answers for you. It's that you don't have to carry something alone.

A check-in isn't a conversation that leads somewhere. It's a conversation that opens something up. Where it leads is up to the person you're talking with.

The most common mistake leaders make in these conversations is reaching for the actionable thing too quickly. What can we take off your plate? Can we look at a different arrangement? Have you thought about talking to someone? These moves feel logical. But they can feel, to the person on the other end, like the leader is more interested in resolving the situation than in understanding their experience.

The questions that land best are open ones, and they don't rush to solutions. Not "what do you need?", which can feel like too much pressure to have a ready answer, but something like: "What would help you navigate this right now, even just a little?" or "Is there anything that would make this situation feel more manageable?"

And sometimes the most useful thing you can say is nothing in particular. "That sounds really hard" is not a small thing when someone has been managing something privately for weeks.

The clearest signal that something is beyond your scope: the person describes distress that is persistent, that is affecting their daily functioning, or that has a clinical quality, a sustained change in sleep or appetite, an inability to concentrate over an extended period, persistent low mood, a sense of being unable to cope that has been going on for weeks. These are health concerns, not performance issues, and they need professional support.

Your role at that point is not to manage the problem. It's to say, clearly and without judgment:

"What you're describing sounds significant. I think it would be worth talking to someone with more expertise in this than I have. Can I help you work out how to access that?"

Here, you can share what your organisation offers, many have a free EAP service, pastoral support, or stress and discretionary leave pathways. The person's GP is always a sound first step in persistent or significant circumstances, to help build a fit-for-purpose support plan.

You're not pointing to a door and walking away. You're staying alongside them while connecting them to something better than what you can offer on your own.

This requires knowing what's available before you need it. EAP contact details. How confidentiality works. Who in HR handles pastoral matters. What the occupational health process looks like in your organisation. And if your organisation offers Mental Health First Aid training, a structured programme, widely used across ANZ, that equips non-mental health professionals with a practical approach to exactly these conversations, it's worth doing. The research consistently shows it builds both the skills and the confidence to act. Know these things in advance, so that when you offer them, the offer feels confident rather than improvised.

The bar for these conversations isn't knowing what to say. It's being willing to have them. Most people who are struggling aren't waiting for a solution, they're waiting for someone to notice.