What is it really costing your organisation to keep the people who have stopped contributing - the deadwood - and when is it time to bite the bullet?

Every organisation has them. The people who were once genuine assets and have quietly become liabilities. The committee member who turned up reliably for years and now attends erratically and contributes little. The staff member whose performance was once the benchmark and is now a daily management challenge. The board director who built their reputation in a different era and hasn’t kept pace with where the organisation needs to go.

Deadwood. It’s an uncomfortable word for an uncomfortable reality.

The Conversation That Started This Thinking

I was working with a senior manager in a very large organisation — thousands of employees — and the topic of underperformance came up. I asked him directly: how much deadwood do you think exists in this organisation?

His answer was candid and, I think, widely representative: around twenty percent. One in five employees not pulling their weight in any meaningful sense.

I’ve had versions of this conversation with leaders across industries, and the estimates are remarkably consistent. When people are honest — truly honest — the number is almost always higher than the organisation’s official position would suggest. And the gap between the honest estimate and the official position is itself a symptom of the problem.

Why Organisations Tolerate What They Shouldn’t

The reasons are human and understandable, even when the consequences are damaging.

History plays a role. Someone who was a genuine contributor for many years earns goodwill that doesn’t expire cleanly. There’s a reluctance to write off that history, even when the present reality no longer matches it.

Conflict avoidance is powerful. Having the direct, honest conversation about performance is genuinely difficult — especially in cultures that prize harmony and tend to treat directness as unkindness. Leaders who dread conflict will find endless reasons to delay.

Process anxiety is real. In many organisations, managing a poor performer out requires documentation, formal processes, HR involvement, and significant management time. The activation energy required is high, so the problem gets deferred.

And in voluntary organisations — committees, boards, community groups — there’s often no formal mechanism at all. How do you remove a volunteer who isn’t pulling their weight without causing a scene?

The True Cost of Doing Nothing

Here’s what tends not to be calculated clearly: the cost of keeping deadwood in place.

When high performers watch an underperformer receive the same treatment as everyone else — same conditions, same recognition, same opportunities — morale erodes quietly but steadily. The message they receive is: results don’t really matter here. The people who care most are always the ones who have options, and they exercise those options.

There’s also a performance contagion effect. Low standards are normalised. The bar drops. What was once considered poor performance gradually becomes the baseline.

And in smaller organisations and committees, one disengaged person can consume a disproportionate amount of leadership energy — energy that could be directed at the people who deserve it and the mission that needs it.

Biting the Bullet as an Act of Leadership

The difficult conversation — the one where you look someone in the eye and tell them directly that their performance isn’t acceptable, or that it’s time for them to move on — is one of the highest acts of leadership there is.

Not because it feels good. It rarely does. But because it signals to everyone watching that the organisation takes its mission and its people seriously. That standards matter. That the culture is one where contribution is valued and coasting is addressed.

The leaders I most respect have all had to bite this bullet at some point. None of them enjoyed it. All of them describe it as one of the most important things they ever did.

A Practical Starting Point

If you’re reading this and thinking of someone specific — which I suspect you are — here’s a starting point. Have the conversation. Not a hint. Not a performance review that dances around the issue. A direct, respectful, honest conversation about what you’re observing and what needs to change.

It’s one of the hardest things you’ll do as a leader. It’s also one of the most important. And almost always, it’s overdue.