Using the word first
«I think you’re burning out» moves the conversation onto medical ground and triggers the defence. You are not a clinician and they know it. Describe what you observe and let them name what they are living.
You do not open a burnout conversation with a diagnosis. You open it with observable facts and you act on the workload. Three principles: talk about what you have seen rather than what you suspect, never use the word before the person does, and leave the meeting with a concrete reduction rather than a piece of advice.
Adrien VasseurUpdated
Claire answers messages at 11pm and on Sundays. She has cancelled her last two holidays. In meetings she snaps over details that would not have touched her six months ago, and two recent mistakes are not like her at all. When you ask if everything is fine, the answer is instant: «yes, it’s just a busy stretch, it’ll calm down after the launch.» She is one of the most reliable people on the team, and that is exactly what makes the subject impossible to raise.
The performance is still there, more or less, which deprives you of an obvious reason to intervene. The denial is not blindness: for many high-standards profiles, admitting exhaustion means admitting personal failure, so the defence is immediate and sometimes sharp. You are also operating on ground that is not yours — health — with symmetrical risk: saying nothing makes you a spectator to a predictable decline, saying too much means diagnosing something you have no competence to diagnose.
«I think you’re burning out» moves the conversation onto medical ground and triggers the defence. You are not a clinician and they know it. Describe what you observe and let them name what they are living.
A corridor «all good?» always gets the same answer and lets you consider the subject handled. The opening only happens in dedicated time, seated, with nothing scheduled behind it.
«You should disconnect», «take a proper weekend» transfers the load back onto the exhausted person by implying they are managing badly. If the workload is objectively excessive, the only useful advice is the one you apply to yourself by reducing it.
Quietly removing someone’s files without discussing it is experienced as being sidelined and confirms the fear that fed the denial. Any redistribution is decided with the person, framed as temporary, and written down.
Not in a corridor, not at the end of a meeting, not just before a committee: an hour, announced without drama — «I’d like us to take some time on your workload, this isn’t a project update.» The frame itself says the subject is serious and not disciplinary.
Line up verifiable observations: «You’ve messaged me at 11pm eleven times this month. You’ve cancelled holiday twice. On Tuesday you snapped over a formatting point.» Then stop. The silence after the facts does more work than any question.
Avoid «are you okay?», which is too easy to answer yes to. Prefer: «What takes up most of your week and isn’t worth it?» You open on workload — professional ground — without demanding that they admit a state.
Leave with a decision that commits you, not them: a file taken back, a meeting cancelled, a deadline you renegotiate with the client yourself. A real reduction, however small, beats ten minutes of concern — and it is often what makes the honest conversation possible two weeks later.
Name the resources without imposing them: occupational health, the employee assistance line, whatever exists internally. «I’m not the right person for that part, and there is someone whose actual job it is.» Then set a checkpoint in a fortnight, so the subject does not depend on their ability to come back to you.