The curse of the long goodbye: a white-collar dilemma.
I've been stuck in a three-month notice period limbo, and it's an exhausting experience. It's like being in a relationship that's run its course, but you're still expected to pretend everything is fine for an eternity.
Three-month notice periods, once an exclusive perk for top-tier executives, have now become a common practice, affecting regular white-collar workers like me. And it's not just me; this trend is on the rise, with Clover HR reporting an 8% increase in jobs advertising such lengthy notice periods over the last decade.
But here's where it gets controversial: most employers don't openly declare these extended notice periods upfront, making it difficult to track the data accurately. In fact, a survey by Incomes Data Research revealed that only 10% of employers follow the statutory minimum of one week's notice for resigning employees. The rest? They set their own rules, often extending notice periods to maintain stability in a fast-paced job market.
Generation Z, known for their job-hopping tendencies, has contributed to this shift. According to Canada Life, those aged 18 to 25 have already worked for an average of six employers, similar to the number for those aged 65 to 74. This has forced employers to adapt, extending notice periods to retain some sense of consistency.
Marie Hart, founder of Popoki HR, explains, "Historically, longer notice periods were for senior roles due to the time needed to recruit and transfer knowledge. But now, it's become more acceptable for middle management and above."
So, why am I sharing this? Well, I recently received an unexpected job offer, leading me to leave The Telegraph. I want to emphasize that I loved my job and wasn't in a rush to depart. However, the three-month notice period has been an eye-opening experience.
It's a significant chunk of time—a quarter of a year, to be precise. It's enough time to learn a new skill, make a major life change, or even lose a considerable amount of weight healthily. And during this period, I've become acutely aware of the challenges faced by notice period employees.
Notice period employees are often disengaged and eager to move on. They may succumb to "quiet quitting," a term that describes their mental check-out from work. Employment consultant Obi James puts it perfectly: "They don't want to be there anymore, so they end up influencing those around them."
And this is the part most people miss: managers can take the news personally, feeling rejected and punished. It's a toxic cycle, with managers making it difficult for employees to leave, just like a bitter breakup.
Workplace researcher Christine Armstrong agrees, "Notice period employees can cause trouble. If someone wants to go, let them go."
Reddit is a testament to the struggles of notice period employees. One user expresses concern about a potential breakdown due to the stress of a full notice period. Another describes being overwhelmed with work, a form of punishment from their manager.
The advice? Leave and risk legal action, or show up but refuse to work. It's a tough choice.
Employment lawyers, however, argue that long notice periods benefit employees. Emma Wayland, a partner at Keystone Law, states, "Three-month notice periods protect both the employee and the employer. It gives managers time to find a replacement, and employees have the security of three months' pay if they're made redundant."
Europe stands out globally for its prevalence of three-month notice periods. In America, workers typically give just two weeks' notice, and in Australia and Singapore, one month's notice is standard for long-term employees.
After 91 days, I'm finally free from my notice period at The Telegraph. But the irony? My new job also has a three-month notice period.
So, what's your take on this? Do you think long notice periods are necessary, or do they cause more harm than good? Share your thoughts in the comments; I'd love to hear your opinions on this controversial topic!
