Julien leads a team of seven developers at a fast-growing 90-employee SaaS company. Marc, one of his most experienced developers, has always been a benchmark for the team: clean code, on-time delivery, a collaborative attitude. For the past six weeks, everything has changed. Frequent lateness, keeping to himself during breaks, missing stand-ups, unusual logic errors in his code. Two colleagues have even told Julien: "Marc really doesn't seem okay."
Julien has noticed it too. But he doesn't know what to do with that observation. He's afraid of being intrusive, of asking the wrong questions, of making a situation worse when he doesn't even know what's behind it. He tells himself "that's what HR is for" and limits himself to mentioning it informally during a routine meeting. The answer he gets: "We'll keep that in mind."
Three weeks later, on a Monday morning, Marc sends in his immediate resignation, citing severe burnout. The team loses its most experienced developer right in the middle of a critical phase for a key feature for a major client, putting an already-scheduled delivery at risk.
At the very first signs, Julien could have asked Eskalon: "A member of my team has changed behavior dramatically over the past few weeks. I want to step in but I don't know what to say without being intrusive. How do I start this conversation?" The answer begins by clearing up a common misconception: opening a supportive conversation doesn't require knowing the details of an employee's personal life — only naming what you observe professionally and opening a space.
Eskalon would have given him precise, immediately usable wording: name the change observed, express his availability, and mention that resources exist, without ever forcing the conversation. He would also have learned his obligations around psychological health at work and gotten a list of internal and external resources to offer Marc.
The gap between the two scenarios is enormous. An open conversation held in time doesn't always guarantee an employee stays, but it turns a situation where the employee feels invisible into one where they feel seen — which fundamentally changes their trajectory, and that of the whole team watching how their manager responds to a colleague's distress. Julien, with the right words at the right moment, becomes the frontline responder that research identifies as the most decisive factor in preventing burnout — exactly the role his title already gave him, but that he didn't yet know how to play.
Does this sound familiar?
Eskalon gives your managers concrete, real-time answers for situations like this one.
Ask Eskalon a question