We notice the signs. We see the slurred speech in a meeting, sudden forgetfulness, a colleague stumbling over their words, or even their feet. But when it’s a leader, a founder, a long-time executive, people get real quiet.
We’ve all seen it. A senior leader starts missing cues. They lose their train of thought in meetings. Their once-confident gait now looks uncertain. They take a wrong turn or get confused on a commute they used to navigate by heart. They repeat the same stories, forget key points, or fumble over details they used to command with ease. And yet nobody says anything.
When a team member shows up late or drops a ball, we intervene. But when it’s someone with power? We call it “a quirk,” “just a bad day,” or “part of their charm.”
But What If It’s More Than That?
In our personal lives, we don’t shrug off these kinds of changes. If your parent started walking unevenly or slurring their speech, you’d book a doctor’s appointment. You’d check in, ask questions, and make sure they’re doing okay.
So why, in the workplace, do we let those same red flags slide, especially when the person showing them holds decision-making power over others? Well, power dynamics between employees and a boss can certainly complicate the matter. It’s one thing to have a sensitive conversation with a parent or loved one. It’s a completely different matter to bring up concerns to someone who could respond by literally firing you. In a work setting, we often stay away from these difficult discussions because it’s hard, we’re taught not to question authority, or we might confuse silence for compassion.
But silence doesn’t serve anyone. It doesn’t help the person who may need help, the team absorbing the impact, and certainly not the organization trying to succeed. And if we stay silent for too long, we might end up enabling someone’s decline.
Ageism and Ableism Are Real, And So Is Accountability
Talking about someone’s cognitive or physical changes can be deeply uncomfortable. It may trigger fears about being seen as ageist or ableist, or even simply being wrong. Those fears oftentimes keep us from doing the very thing inclusion requires: noticing when something isn’t working, naming the concern, and creating space for a better path forward.
Being inclusive doesn’t mean ignoring decline. It means we lean in to the challenge, and make room for:
- Conversations grounded in dignity and care
- Role transitions that preserve legacy while honoring current needs
- Structures of support that don’t isolate or infantilize people
Accountability doesn’t cancel compassion. In fact, they go hand in hand.
Who Gets Protected, and Who Doesn’t?
We’ve seen what happens when warning signs are ignored. Mistakes multiply, communication breaks down, trust erodes, teams whisper, and then people disengage. Meanwhile, the leader, often insulated by power or nostalgia, is shielded from feedback they might actually benefit from.
At the same time, other employees who often tend to be younger, newer, or from marginalized backgrounds, are scrutinized more for far less. This imbalance of experience sends a clear message: power protects you, while everyone else is on probation.
If we care about fairness, we have to care about consistency.
A Culture of Care Requires Brave Conversations
Creating a truly inclusive workplace means recognizing that everyone’s needs change over time. It means building cultures where people can step back or shift roles without shame, and where support doesn’t depend on hierarchy.
Some questions to consider:
- Do we have a clear, respectful process for addressing leadership capacity concerns?
- How do we support longtime employees when their capabilities shift?
- Are we equipping managers and HR teams to notice signs of decline—physical or cognitive—and respond with care?
- Do our benefit packages offer a holistic approach to health and wellness?
Leadership is a privilege, and so is longevity. But neither guarantees immunity from feedback, concern, or change.
Final Thought
If your coworker showed signs of decline, you’d probably check in. If it were your boss, you might hesitate. And if it were the CEO, most people would go silent. But when the stakes are high, silence isn’t safety. It’s a risk.
Let’s build cultures that care enough to speak up, not just when it’s easy, but when it matters most.