Why do people resign?

By Herman M. Lagon

“Pagod na ako.” It is a line we hear in jeepney rides, in pantry corners, and after long hours at work. But it is not just tiredness—it is the kind that wears down the soul. The kind built from unseen effort, unpaid extras, workplace dissonance, and staying too long in a place where you no longer grow. And lately, more Pinoys—whether answering calls in graveyard shifts or juggling five lesson plans in overcrowded classrooms—are no longer just whispering it. They are walking away.

The numbers are telling. In the 2025 Aon Human Capital Study, 64% of Filipino workers said they were either preparing to leave or thinking hard about it. This is not a passing trend—it is the result of long shifts with no thanks, unpaid workloads that punish competence, and bosses who confuse control with care. Sometimes, even the commute costs more than the salary. Quitting, for many, is no longer defiance. It is survival.

HR departments may label these exits with safe phrases—“personal reasons,” “career growth,” “greener pastures.” But behind those lines are real people. Teachers buying whiteboard marker  from their own pocket yet blamed for low scores. Nurses clocking 16-hour shifts with no hazard pay. Staff doing admin work beyond their pay grade. People do not leave because they are fragile. They leave when the emotional cost of staying outweighs the paycheck.

Take a guidance counselor friend from Capiz. After six years of service, she packed up quietly. She loved her students, but the system wore her down. Extra duties were dumped on her with no training or support. When she raised her voice, she was labeled “difficult.” Her resignation email was polite. Her exhale of relief was not. Her story is not an exception—it is alarmingly common.

Good leaders—those who truly lead—do not wait for resignations to reflect. They notice the small silences, the shift in energy, the sparkle that fades. They ask not just why you are leaving, but why you stopped laughing in meetings. And they act—not with grand statements, but with quiet, deliberate care. Leadership, at its core, is not just about hitting targets. It is about building people.

The usual suspects are clear: poor managers, favoritism, toxic culture, bad communication. These are not just organizational flaws. They are leadership breakdowns. A Gallup study found that 70% of a team’s engagement depends on the manager. When leaders hoard decisions, dodge feedback, or treat employees like numbers, the best people do not fight. They leave.

Sure, compensation matters. DOLE reported a 12% rise in resignations among government workers in 2024, mostly due to stagnant wages. Of course, it goes without saying that this is many folds worse among private workers. But people rarely leave because of pay alone. They leave when they feel invisible. Modest pay with dignity and purpose is more tolerable than higher pay with constant disrespect. People stay where they feel seen, not just listed.

Recognition—or the lack of it—is another quiet deal-breaker. Too many workplaces still run on the outdated and gaslighting idea that “you’re lucky to have this job.” In truth, it is the organization that should be lucky to have loyal, hardworking people. A 2025 Rappler report showed nearly half of Metro Manila workers felt unrecognized. It is worse in our provinces. When silence meets effort, people disengage.

Then comes autonomy—or its absence. When a simple decision needs three approvals and a chain of redundant emails, morale dips. Daniel Pink, in his book Drive, reminds us that what fuels motivation is not just money, but autonomy, mastery, and purpose. Without those, even the brightest minds dull. Workers become compliant—not committed.

Toxicity spreads fast. One gossip-driven promotion, one unchecked bully, and entire teams spiral. Yet, instead of confronting toxicity, some companies protect it—because the “toxic top performer still delivers.” But that short-term gain costs long-term morale. The Harvard Business Review warns that a single toxic employee—worse, a toxic clique—can cost more than two disengaged ones. People will not swim in dirty waters forever. Eventually, they find their way out.

Leadership failure is not always dramatic. Sometimes, it is just forgetting birthdays, skipping feedback, or ghosting someone after they speak up. One missed thank-you, repeated enough, becomes a resignation letter. Smart leaders pick up on these small fractures before they turn into exits. They listen, they adjust, they take accountability.

What do wise leaders actually do? They build systems, not slogans. They invest in people, not just outputs. They reward initiative, mentor consistently, and replace hierarchy with humility. They do not wait for HR to solve everything. They show up—present, listening, human.

They also understand that not everyone wants to climb. Some want to slow down, recalibrate, or do work that brings peace. And that is not laziness. That is clarity. In France, this is called “downshifting.” People with master’s degrees leave corporate jobs to become bakers or carpenters—not for money, but for meaning. The same thing is quietly happening here. Many of us want roles that fit their lives, not just their credentials.

At the heart of all this is the search for meaning. In a world that feels increasingly unstable, people are not chasing titles. They are chasing dignity, wellness. They want to know their time and energy lead somewhere. That they are not just building profits, but contributing to something real. Work should not empty people. It should shape them.

Resigning, in this light, is not failure. Sometimes, it is the bravest thing a worker can do. It is a quiet, personal revolution. It is a way of saying, “I matter, too.” And if leaders are wise, they will not see it as betrayal. They will see it as feedback. As an invitation to change.

Because it is not resignations that break organizations. It is apathy. When leaders stop listening, people stop speaking. When leaders stop growing, people stop staying. But when leaders evolve—with care, with humility, with courage—people do, too. Not out of fear. But out of belief that it is worth staying.

***

Doc H fondly describes himself as a “student of and for life” who, like many others, aspires to a life-giving and why-driven world grounded in social justice and the pursuit of happiness. His views do not necessarily reflect those of the institutions he is employed or connected with.