This is a true story, with the names omitted.
Mark (not his real name) was a business analyst at a global company, and he had already handed in his resignation. A competitor had offered him a better package. If HR had asked why he was leaving, “compensation” would have been the easy answer, the one that lands on the exit form.
Pay was part of it, but it wasn’t the whole story.
His project meant working with a difficult client, and it was draining him. His administrative manager gave harsh feedback, showed little empathy, and paid little attention to how the pressure was affecting the team’s morale. Underneath it all, Mark had started to feel that no matter how consistently he delivered, nobody noticed. The competitor’s offer didn’t create any of that. It gave him somewhere to go.
Across the Philippines, resignation letters frequently express deep appreciation. Departing team members routinely thank their employers for past opportunities while citing professional growth or new prospects ahead.
These documents rarely detail underlying workplace issues. Deeply rooted cultural values such as pakikisama and hiya encourage social harmony, keeping genuine motives for departure unspoken—surfacing, if at all, only through informal side conversations.
In Mark’s situation, one person really paid close attention. A senior project leader—who wasn’t Mark’s direct manager but worked closely with him on client projects—had been checking in with him regularly. Over time, this person noticed three signs: Mark’s conversations were becoming more frustrated, he was becoming quieter during meetings, and he was hesitating before taking on new tasks.
When Mark filed his resignation, the project head didn’t treat it as settled, and he didn’t even try to convince Mark to stay. He worked with Mark and Mark’s manager so the company would get a fair chance to respond. Mark’s pay was reviewed as part of that, though it was one piece among several. HR supported Mark’s manager with appropriate coaching on how he gave feedback and communicated with the team. HR also reassessed Mark’s workload and added more support.
Mark felt the difference in how much was on his plate and in how valued he felt. He decided to stay.
Mark’s story isn’t rare. Aon’s 2025 Human Capital Employee Sentiment Study found that 64 percent of employees in the Philippines are either moving employers or might look for new work within the next 12 months. Great Place To Work Philippines reports that the share of employees who say their colleagues care about each other fell from 88 to 83 percent between 2023 and 2025, while those who say they have the tools and resources they need rose from 87 to 91 percent. Workplaces got better at equipping people and worse at making them feel cared for.
Gallup’s research on American workers shows the same gap: 51 percent of people who left voluntarily said that in their last three months, neither their manager nor any other leader talked with them about their job satisfaction or their future at the company. And the bill is real. Gallup puts the cost of replacing an employee at half to two times their annual salary. For an analyst earning ₱40,000 a month, that’s roughly ₱240,000 to ₱960,000 on base pay alone.
Most workplaces have a handbook. What people actually live by is what happens when the handbook goes quiet: who gets listened to, how feedback lands, whether anyone notices when a good person stops speaking up.
Nothing in Mark’s company handbook told the project head to notice that Mark was going quiet. The check-ins were his own effort. What kept Mark was an unwritten policy, one person’s habit of paying attention. That habit nearly cost him his job, too. Most professional environments do not officially determine that employee morale is insignificant or that harsh feedback constitutes effective leadership. Over time, it subtly becomes no one’s responsibility to assess the impact of these practices.
The project head demonstrated “malasakit”—caring about another’s situation as one’s own. Because workload and cultural norms can hinder empathy, leaders need support to build sustainable, caring workplaces that reduce turnover.
While not all resignations are preventable—and leaders should support right-fit departures—unaddressed quiet exits are entirely avoidable.
So start with the quiet. If someone who used to speak up has stopped, treat that as information. It’s usually the first you’ll get. Then ask early, with one sincere question: what would make your work easier to do well? Listen without defending anyone. Give people a second door, too: someone outside their reporting line, through a skip-level conversation or an HR check-in, whom they can tell before it becomes a letter. And when you look at why good people leave, look beyond the pay to how people and their managers actually talk, and what’s on their plates. In Mark’s case, pay was one of three things addressed.
This week, think of one person on your team who has gotten quieter than usual, and ask them that question. Then think of a time someone noticed you when you were close to leaving. What did they do that mattered?
Jefrri-Ann Francesca Santiago, MSHRM, CMC, CHRP, is the Founder and Principal Consultant of Strategence Consulting, a boutique HR, organizational development, and leadership advisory practice in the Philippines. She has more than 20 years of experience in corporate HR leadership across IT, BPO, retail, and professional services. Learn more at strategenceconsulting.com.
Sources:
- Aon: Two-Thirds of Employees in the Philippines Are Considering Changing Employers in 2025
- The Trust Deficit: Why 64% of Filipino Workers Are Planning To Leave Their Jobs | Great Place To Work Philippines
- This Fixable Problem Costs U.S. Businesses $1 Trillion | Gallup
- Original article: The Real Reason Employees Quit
