Third sector burnout: How can we build sustainable services and treat helping professionals as people first?

I’ve recently been spending a lot of time in charity sector spaces where professionals are at their edges, resources are strained, and there are increasing divides between leadership and frontline staff who are being asked to stretch caseloads and boundaries to breaking point. Words and phrases like ‘burnout’, ‘dehumanising’ and ‘taken for granted’ abound in discussions with tired and disappointed helping professionals. The picture might look bleak for some right now, but there are still choices to be made and opportunities to take space to re-imagine how we can work together in a challenging socioeconomic climate to bring about more sustainable, meaningful change for service users and the workforce alike.

Charities and not-for-profits being asked to do more with less isn’t a new phenomenon, but challenges seem to have intensified in recent years, and a crucial aspect of how this plays out is the way that those in the driving seat choose to allocate resources and how they see and communicate with their staff. The typical vicious cycle at the intersection of workplace wellbeing and funding/resource issues is an effect of trying to deliver the same level of service or respond to increasing need with fewer resources… Staff are expected to take on more direct work with service users, whether this means building up overtime (which should be taken back as Time Off in Lieu, if only they could find a time to take it back) or attempting to squeeze more work into their regular hours. And most often, they will do their best to make this happen, because they have undertaken this emotionally costly, challenging and often poorly paid work due to dedication to a cause and a desire to help. But this is an unsustainable way to work for most people, and the vicious cycle kicks in when staff burn out and need to take time off work to recover. Understaffing as a result of this puts additional strain on the service and the workforce left to cover the gaps, and there’s a risk of developing a revolving door of new, passionate and energetic workers coming on board, rolling up their sleeves, working hard beyond their hours and burning out, only to be replaced with the next person willing to take on the challenge.

Dedicated service managers might experience a similar phenomenon, as the need for additional support of their teams increases, and the gaps in service provisions have to be covered. This tends to have a demonstrably negative impact on vulnerable service users, who need consistency and time to build trusting relationships with the professionals supporting them. That seems to offer good enough leverage to encourage decision makers to address the issue, since providing services that have a positive impact on their beneficiaries’ lives is the purpose of most third sector organisations. And this purpose is compromised when the wellbeing and humanity of the workforce is discounted, given the impact on service delivery. It feels uncomfortably utilitarian to point out that workplaces should value and support their staff on the basis that people are their most valuable resource. While that may be true, there’s also a question of values at play here – if organisations aim to provide person-centred support and trauma-informed practice, and to value people seen as experts by experience, what might prevent them from responding well when their staff express feelings of not being heard, valued or supported?

An astute colleague and mentor recently summed the situation up as a reliance on the third sector mentality of saying yes where everyone else has said no. Charitable organisations tend to exist to plug the gaps left by systems and governments that are failing to adequately support their people, hence the culture of needing to find a way to make things work, since our ‘no’ might leave a vulnerable person out of options. Senior leaders may also face the additional pressure of competing for the funding that keeps service users supported and staff in a job, since decreasing resources and increasing need means an environment where organisations race to provide services for less than their partners/competitors. This is another ‘yes’ that means stretching boundaries and working harder to meet increasingly complex needs. Decision makers may be working hard to absorb as much of the impact as possible, and at times, this might lead to feelings of defensiveness and frustration when frontline staff and middle managers express dissatisfaction about the challenges they are facing. A context where both resources and capacities are strained can become a tinderbox for conflict, empathy fatigue, burnout and staffing issues, not to mention reputational damage and further unintended impact on service users.

This may be a representation of an organisation or sector in crisis, rather than the day-to-day reality of many not-for-profits. But there’s a sense of these issues becoming increasingly likely as so many face difficult decisions about how to stay afloat in stormy waters. So, what can be done to address this? I’d love to offer the mythical magic bullet response here, but of course, complex issues faced by diverse groups require nuanced and situation specific responses. However, here are some questions that might go some way to starting to get unstuck and look towards longer term change:

1.        What partnership opportunities might exist or be developed to promote a more collaborative approach to providing services, sharing resources and addressing the wider issues?

2.        How honest are we being with funders about what can realistically be delivered within the available budget on offer? What opportunities do we have to work with them towards addressing discrepancies between needs and resources?

3.        When staff concerns and work related wellbeing issues arise, are we genuinely responding and collaborating in a way that is consistent with our values and approach? What might be getting in the way of this, and what resources or support might we seek to facilitate brave and compassionate spaces to address these issues?

4.        When might we need to say no or adjust what can be delivered when resources are limited?

5.        What campaigning and communications might need to be put in place to push for increased funding, policy change etc.?

6.        Have we considered workplace wellbeing in the context of working conditions and increased living costs, as well as offering EAP programmes? Can staff delivering highly skilled work in challenging conditions afford to live on the salaries on offer?

7.        How are we involving service users and staff in change processes and decision making? How can we do this in a way that genuinely values their work and does not contribute to burnout?

8.        What assumptions might we be making that could be holding us back? What opportunities are there to challenge and move past these assumptions?

Ultimately, there are issues that need to be tackled in the context of sector-wide collaboration and transparent communication with those who hold the purse strings about what’s needed and what’s possible in the current climate, rather than overstretched leaders in survival mode participating in a race to the bottom. And then, there are the human relationships at the heart of the matter. Community and helping relationships are the fundamental point of most organisations working in this field, so it feels especially important to find the capacity and the will to engage with the most sticky challenges in a compassionate, trauma-informed way that positions everyone as skilled fellow humans on a shared mission. This is easier said than done when people are at their edges, which leads back to the problem of overworking and preventing burnout. It may feel like there’s no time and space to slow down and engage with this right now, but it’s worth framing this work as just as important as the day-to-day running of services. With healthier boundaries, recovery time and opportunities to re-regulate in place, it’s far easier for dedicated professionals to roll up their sleeves and collectively do what they do best, which is getting stuck into complex challenges and finding ways through difficult and distressing territory towards recovery and change.

Is there a good time for difficult conversations?

Almost two years of intermittent lockdowns gave us opportunities to reflect on what’s working or not, challenged our assumptions about what’s possible and necessitated a bit of a review of our needs and resources, both on individual and collective levels. For many people and organisations, this has pushed a need for change and exploration of potentially challenging topics further up the agenda. At the same time, events like the murder of George Floyd and resulting groundswell of support for the Black Lives Matter movement triggered a flurry of questions about social justice and what this means for us as individuals and communities.

And yet, all of this exploration has been taking place in a context of collective trauma, burnout, grief and uncertainty. The overwhelming message I’ve heard from people returning to changed workplaces and tentatively stepping further out into the world is that they are tired and perhaps a little more fragile than usual. Sure, there are those who have flourished in recent times and (provided it’s not at the expense of others) I’m happy to hear that. But for most, a sustained period of relentless change, restriction, uncertainty and potentially trauma has had an impact. So, what do we do with a context that includes big questions and burnout? Is this a bad time for difficult conversations? Is there such a thing as a good time for them? Below, I outline what considerations might be part of a healthy and effective approach to these tricky questions.

With any significant discussion or project, I believe that contracting and checking in about how we’re doing are among the key elements for success. The bigger picture of the contracting process involves things like establishing what we’re trying to achieve by setting aside time to explore a specific theme. If everyone has a broadly similar idea of what’s expected, the risk of misunderstandings can be lessened, and there’s more opportunity to ensure genuine, informed ‘buy-in’. Beyond these broad brushstrokes, we get into the nuts and bolts of contracting – the ‘when, where, who’ and logistics. But the question of ‘when’ is more than just a logistical one. Diaries can be hard to synchronise, both in professional and social worlds at the best of times. And when we’re at our edges, scheduling takes on extra significance. Many of us have found that what had previously seemed like a manageable number of meetings, social engagements and projects now seems like a real overstretch. Stamina and expectations may have shifted, and some interactions may be more emotionally costly than they once were. With this in mind, figuring a bit of decompression time in following a difficult conversation might be particularly helpful.

Asking ourselves, ‘is this the right time’ is a matter of honestly assessing a number of factors - the purpose and how urgent it is, whether we have capacity to do the conversation justice, our energy levels and resilience, and whether there’s a chance we could be avoiding the conversation because it’s likely to be uncomfortable. A quick assessment of what the risks and benefits of tackling the issue now or saving it for later could be a good start – what might happen if you do or don’t discuss this? How far away is ‘later’? As someone who’s spent years working with my tendency to start what feels like a hundred projects at a time, put the low priority ones off until ‘later’ and then forget about them entirely, I’m well aware of the risk of using ‘later’ as an avoidance tactic. I’m writing this at the end of a tough year – looking towards a new year is often a great time to pause, reflect and set goals. So, putting things in the ‘for the new year’ pile might make a lot of sense right now – but is there a specific plan and timeframe, or are you really saying ‘too hard, not now’?

Whether addressing a possibly friendship-ending disagreement on a political issue, making difficult organisational decisions or taking steps to improve a tense working relationship, some of the underlying themes are the same. Humans are so hard-wired for belonging, that this arguably shapes all of our interactions with others and heavily influences our sense of self. Ultimately, what makes difficult conversations difficult is often related to fears of being rejected or a strong sense of ‘I’m right and you’re wrong’ – establishing an in-group and an out-group. We might worry about being judged, about causing hurt and the consequences of this, about not being heard or having our dearly held beliefs called into question. These are significant concepts, and there can be a lot of shame attached to them. We’ve evolved to cooperate or risk rejection and death – it sounds dramatic, but the parts of our brain that are first to respond to a potential threat haven’t caught up with the fact that an argument with a colleague about, say, pronouns in an email signature, generally isn’t a life-or-death situation (but an important caveat - since we’re talking about pronouns, it is worth noting that a 2018 study found that the use of correct name and pronouns significantly decreased depression and suicidal ideation in transgender youth). Knowing that we may be carrying these fears or defensive positions into a difficult conversation, and that we’re doing this at a time when we may be feeling less resilient than usual, what can we do about all of this? Here are a few tips for the difficult conversations you’ve decided you need to have now.

·        Gather your resources, work on your resilience

If you’re feeling a little tired and rough around the edges, coming into stressful situations with a well-equipped toolbox is of extra importance. Take some time to think about what helps you to be at your most present and grounded, rested, calm and confident? You might want to make a list of objects, actions, people, places, words, and consider how you might take support from them in the run up to and during a hard conversation.

·        Bring in an outside perspective

When you are enmeshed in a situation, it can be hard to step outside the perspective you’re seeing things from in the moment. In a one-to-one or group environment where everyone has a stake in the outcome, it’s understandable that things might escalate. Bringing in an outside person to hold space can be useful. I won’t say that they’d provide an ‘objective’ view – on some level, they’d be bringing their own life experience, beliefs and knowledge into the room. But what’s crucial is their distance from the outcome of the situation at hand, which can provide a wider lensed view. This is something that can be done through professional intervention (consultancy, therapy, a senior colleague from another team) or in a more informal way, if you can identify a fairly impartial person who might offer a bit of a mediating role in a personal conflict.

·        It’s worth taking the time to really connect

Recognising the common humanity underneath our differences can mitigate the urge to put everyone into ‘them’ and ‘us’ boxes – that in-group/out-group default setting. It might not make a huge impact on fundamentally different views, but I’ve found it incredibly helpful in terms of promoting listening with open minds and hearts. It’s worth considering how you’ll connect as fellow humans before you launch into the Big Topics – for example, this might be done through a check-in (with the question ‘how are you really?’ in mind), some mindfulness work or even ‘just’ space for a coffee and a chat before getting stuck in.

·        Plan what you’ll do if it goes ‘wrong’

A bit of consideration of how to deal with overwhelm can go a long way. Even with good communication and planning, sometimes trauma triggers are hit and limits are reached. It happens! Thinking about offering time-outs and breaks, the ability to renegotiate for another day if you get completely stuck and opportunities to debrief later can support you in getting back on track and prevent a situation escalating further.

So, to return to the question ‘is there a good time for difficult conversations?’, the answer is yes, there can be. And with all the right support and planning, you may find that the conversations aren’t so difficult after all.

Need support with a difficult conversation? Contact me to find out more…