The difficulty of dealing with death in the workplace

Naomi Shragai is a business psychotherapist and author of ‘Work Therapy’

When I worked in community mental health in London early in my career, Terry, a co-worker, died of Aids.

He was a calm, private man; we had shared case notes and gossip. As his health deteriorated, few of his close friends could provide the help he needed. So I offered mine. Caring for him, I learned intimate details about his health that would not typically be shared among colleagues: the toiletries in his bathroom, his daily habits. When he died, I took a plant from his flat that eventually grew into a 10-foot yucca.

In my psychotherapy practice, I often recall Terry when clients tell me about people from their workplace who have died. They too are often unprepared for the depth of grief. 

We tend to think about the people we work with as colleagues, bosses or underlings. Often we fail to consider that our relationships start to matter, and that their loss can be painful. If the worst happens, people may be forced to confront emotions they are unaccustomed to at work. It may be their first encounter with death, a reminder of their parents’ mortality, or something that brings up unresolved grief, or disturbing feelings from the past.

“At work people are forward-thinking, focused on growth, achievement and productivity. Unexpected death runs counter to all these proclivities of corporate culture,” explains Steven Rolfe, psychoanalyst and managing principal at US consultancy Rolfe Advisory. While most companies have a succession plan for senior staff, he adds, few prepare for the emotional fallout of death at work.

A year ago, my client Anna’s colleague died of a brain haemorrhage while on a work trip to Atlanta. He was 41, recently engaged, and a mentor to Anna. “When I heard the news I broke into tears,” she recalls. “I couldn’t take it in . . . I would look at his seat and see that it was empty.”

She still feels his absence. “I never imagined a scenario where I couldn’t reach out and talk to him . . . now I have to make judgment calls myself.’”

Our relationship to work changes when it becomes associated with loss. It reminds us of the fragility of our colleagues — and that we ourselves are replaceable. 

One client was struck by how quickly business returned to usual following the death of a “highly respected” senior director. “We’re just a cog in the machine,” he says. “The machine goes on.” Yet he also felt inspired, after the initial shock, “to keep the standards going, because he set such a high bar”.

Managers are often under particular pressure after a death of a team member — to announce the news, support colleagues, adjust workloads, and inform clients and shareholders. There is little space for their own feelings, including fears about how tragedy affects more mundane matters. One chief executive client struggled after the death of an employee, who also happened to be related to another senior staff member. He describes “feeling guilty for thinking about the impact that would have on the business, and me”.

Anne, a manager in a US publishing company, felt unable to show her grief as she announced the death of a colleague. “I needed to be calm, and say this is really awful, but we’ll get through it together. What you don’t realise is that you have 150 people looking at you crying,” she says. “I was told if you don’t want to cry you look up and swallow — and that’s what I did.” 

This was despite the tragedy having a profound impact. “People with a bit of life experience handled it better, but those in their twenties cried all the time. The shock was massive and they associated it with the workplace, so work became triggering.”

When dealing with tragedy and its emotional fallout, companies should avoid “business as usual”. Expectations need to be adjusted. “You couldn’t change the output, but we got through it by saying we just have to do what we can,” William, the manager of a PR firm, which lost a senior director, says. “Good enough is OK.” 

Managers can also help by providing rituals: a condolence book, sessions to share feelings and stories, and counselling for those in need. “You pay attention to how your manager reacted at the time of crisis. Did they give people what they needed, did they listen to the employees?” says Rolfe. “There’s not a one-policy-fits-all. Some people may need time away and transition with remote work; others may prefer . . . diving right back in.”

Names in this article have been changed