There was a recent article from LinkedIn News that hit a nerve. It said worker confidence is at an all-time low, lower than it was in April 2020, when the world was deep in crisis, locked down, and flooded with uncertainty.
And that raised a question that’s hard to shake: How did things get here?
Because confidence doesn’t just disappear overnight. It erodes, slowly, quietly, until it’s gone.
What’s showing up in 2025 isn’t just burnout or quiet quitting. It’s something deeper. It’s the compound effect of five years of disruption, disillusionment, and emotional fatigue that never really got processed.
People aren’t just tired. They’re unraveling.
To make sense of how it got to this point, and why so many still feel off, it helps to rewind to 2019.
2019: The Warning Signs Were Already There
Even before the pandemic, cracks were showing. The World Health Organization officially recognized burnout as an occupational phenomenon in 2019.
That same year, Harvard Business Review published an article by Jennifer Moss titled Burnout Is About Your Workplace, Not Your People, calling out the responsibility of leadership to address systemic burnout, not just individual resilience.
Top cited causes?
Unfair treatment at work
Unmanageable workload
Lack of role clarity
Lack of communication and support from managers
Unreasonable time pressure
In short, people were already struggling under the surface. Back then though, the hustle was still glamorized. Sleep deprivation and working all the time were worn as a badge of honor. Burnout was silently endured, not addressed.
2020: The Pandemic Changed Everything
And then, the world stopped.
Remote work wasn’t a perk anymore, it was the new normal.
People were grieving. Isolated. Trying to hold down a job, hold it together, and hold onto whatever scraps of normalcy they could find.
For some, work became the only thing that felt familiar. For others, especially in frontline or retail roles, the layoffs came fast. No warning. Just gone.
Globally, the world lost the equivalent of 255 million full-time jobs in 2020, four times more than during the global financial crisis in 2009 (ILO, 2021). It was destabilizing in every way imaginable.
And even for those who kept their jobs, “business as usual” was anything but.
Zoom calls were done in pajamas. People were trying to parent, perform, and stay sane, all from the same couch. Cats showed up to meetings. Partners became coworkers. Everyone was suddenly “all business up top, chaos down below.”
The memes were great. There were jokes. There was laughter. But really, it was all just an attempt to make light of a really hard situation.
Because under the surface? Things were unravelling.
Studies reflected what many felt but couldn’t say: COVID-related fears led to higher burnout, emotional exhaustion, and a growing urge to leave jobs altogether. (ScienceDirect, 2023)
Boundaries disappeared. If someone wasn’t constantly online, they were forgotten. If they were always online, they were exhausted. Home and work, once two separate worlds, merged into one. It wasn’t integration; it was collision.
Anxiety tripled. Depression quadrupled. More than half of American workers feared losing their jobs, or dreaded the thought of going back into the office. (World Economic Forum, 2021)
And underneath it all, the questions started forming quietly: What is this really for? Is this sustainable? Is this the life that was meant to be lived?
2020 didn’t just disrupt routines. It disrupted identity, stability, and any sense of control. The unraveling had begun.
2021: The Great Resignation
As the world cautiously emerged from lockdowns, many expected a rush to return to the old “normal.”
That rush never came.
Instead, something quieter, but far more powerful, began to unfold. People paused. Reflected. And then… walked away.
In 2021, over 47 million Americans voluntarily quit their jobs, a number so large it reshaped the workforce and coined a new cultural milestone: The Great Resignation (BLS, 2022).
But this wasn’t some sudden rebellion. It was a slow exhale after years of held breath. A release valve on pressure that had been building well before the pandemic ever hit.
According to Harvard Business Review, quit rates had been rising steadily for a decade, climbing by 0.10 percentage points per year from 2009 to 2019. The only reason it didn’t spike in 2020 was fear. Jobs felt fragile. The safest move was to stay put. But in 2021, with restrictions easing and stimulus checks landing, the resignations that had been paused came flooding through, like a dam finally bursting. (HBR, 2022)
And this wasn’t just a statistical surge. It was deeply personal. The World Economic Forum called it a “profound reevaluation of life and work.” Even if the words weren’t spoken aloud, the questions were there:
What is this really for? What’s been given up to stay here? Is it still worth it?
For millions, the answer was no.
A global analysis of 9 million employee records from 4,000 companies showed the highest quit rates among mid-career professionals, especially in healthcare and tech. (WEF, 2021) The same people who had kept the world running during the crisis were now the ones walking away from it.
To help make sense of it all, an HBR article introduced the Five Rs quietly shaping worker behavior:
Retirement – A wave of older employees opted out early. For some, it was health concerns. For others, it was clarity: time with loved ones mattered more than staying in the game.
Relocation – The headlines talked about mass migration, but the reality was more subtle. Most moves were local, less escape, more adjustment.
Reconsideration – The role of work got personal. Burnout, caregiving demands, and the weight of it all led many, especially women and frontline workers, to ask: is this still worth it?
Reshuffling – Many didn’t leave work entirely. They shifted, within industries, across sectors, searching for better pay, more respect, or a life that made more sense.
Reluctance – Safety concerns and a desire for flexibility kept people from rushing back to offices. The old way no longer worked, and for many, it never really did.
In healthcare and social assistance alone, over 10 million workers were lost, an average of 464,000 quits per month. (BLS, 2022) That wasn’t just burnout. That was a system breaking.
Some left to protect themselves. Others left for better pay or conditions. But underneath it all was one undeniable truth: 2021 wasn’t a blip. It was a breaking point. The emotional apex of years of strain. The moment when the cracks became a chasm, and millions made the choice to redraw the line between work and well-being.
2022–2023: Quiet Quitting & Disengagement
Those who remained in the corporate world weren’t the same anymore. A new behavioral shift emerged, not through exits, but silence.
These were the workers who had weathered the storm. Adapted. Pivoted. Survived. Many had stayed through the layoffs, the grief, the endless Zoom calls. Some had changed jobs, landed raises, maybe even stepped into what looked like a dream role.
But beneath the surface, the emotional residue lingered. Burnout didn’t disappear with a promotion. The psyche hadn’t caught up to the paycheck.
In its place came something quieter, something the world soon labeled Quiet Quitting. A phrase that went viral almost overnight, and just as quickly, got misunderstood.
Contrary to the headlines, Quiet Quitting wasn’t about slacking off. It was about self-preservation.
By 2022, something subtle, but significant, was shifting. According to Gallup, at least 50% of the U.S. workforce could now be classified as “quiet quitters.” Engagement scores were falling fast. Trust in leadership, clarity of expectations, and connection to purpose were among the steepest drops. People were still doing the work, but the meaning had quietly slipped away.
This wasn’t apathy. As TheStreet pointed out, it was a recalibration of energy. After years of emotional overextension, workers were no longer willing to trade well-being for performative productivity.
And it didn’t come out of nowhere. Investopedia added that quiet quitting tends to emerge in periods of instability, when leadership falters and dissatisfaction becomes chronic. By 2022, that wasn’t the exception anymore. It was the atmosphere.
This was the psychological hangover of the pandemic.
Employees who once over-functioned in chaos were now setting boundaries. The cost of overextension had become too high. Quiet quitting became a protest without words, not against work itself, but against a culture that demanded more without giving more.
It wasn’t about doing the bare minimum. It was about protecting what little was left. A whispered boundary. A quiet rebellion. A way to survive.
But most employers missed the signal.
They responded by doubling down, tightening controls, enforcing return-to-office mandates, ramping up surveillance. Elon Musk’s call for an “extremely hardcore” work ethic at Twitter became the poster child for this tone-deaf reaction: a louder demand for output in a moment that called for understanding.
The result? Trust cracked even more. The disconnect deepened.
And for those just beginning to reclaim some sense of agency, one thing became painfully clear: Boundaries weren’t enough.
2023–2024: Layoffs, Retraction, and Fallout
Quiet quitting gave people a sliver of control, but that control was short-lived.
By 2023, layoffs returned in full force.
Those who stayed in their roles after the Great Resignation didn’t come back unscathed. Many had already disengaged, choosing boundaries as a form of self-preservation. But any sense of regained stability quickly gave way to another wave of upheaval.
Layoffs became the new headline.
Companies that had over hired during the pandemic began to reverse course. U.S. employers announced over 721,000 job cuts in 2023 alone, nearly double the previous year (Yahoo Finance). Tech, once the poster child for security and innovation, accounted for over 260,000 of those losses (TechCrunch). Across all industries, an average of 1.5 million workers were laid off every month in 2023 (DemandSage).
And it wasn’t just jobs being lost. It was trust. Safety. Sanity.
For many, it felt like déjà vu.
Just as people had begun to protect their energy, to build boundaries, here came another wave of instability. The message was loud and clear: you’re still not safe.
The unspoken promise, that loyalty or performance might shield you, was shattered again.
To make things worse, companies began tightening the screws. Return-to-office mandates became more aggressive, with companies like Amazon and Salesforce demanding full in-person attendance. Surveillance tools, productivity trackers, and rigid policies deepened the rift between employers and employees (Wired, 2023).
This wasn’t just about layoffs. It was about erosion of confidence, of autonomy, of hope.
People began internalizing a dangerous pattern:
Overwork. Burnout. Boundary-setting. Then fear.
The cycle was starting all over again. Quiet quitting may have been a boundary. But the system didn’t respect it.
And so, the unraveling deepened, not just in job reports, but in people’s psyches. And just when people thought they’d adjusted to the chaos, 2025 had other plans.
2025: The Great Resignation 2.0 and the Pressure Cooker of the Present
Just as people began adapting to a new baseline of burnout, 2025 brought a deeper disillusionment, a fresh wave of instability. But this time, it hit harder.
Layoffs returned with force.
According to Forbes, U.S. employers announced over 82,000 job cuts in February 2025 alone, the highest monthly total since early-pandemic levels in 2020. This wasn’t confined to tech. The cuts swept across healthcare, manufacturing, and finance, with companies like Deloitte, DocuSign, and Snapchat slashing thousands of roles. (Forbes, March 2025)
But it wasn’t just job losses.
Hiring stalled. Salaries shrank. Benefits tightened.
A Guardian report from March 2025 revealed that many companies, faced with surging operational costs, were “holding back on hiring” and “tightening compensation offers”, deepening worker dissatisfaction and fueling economic uncertainty. (The Guardian, March 2025)
Even those still employed weren’t spared.
A Forbes study from January 2025 found that 73% of workers were struggling financially, citing stagnant wages, heavier workloads, and soaring costs of living. For many, the promise of economic recovery has begun to feel like a mirage. (Forbes, Jan 2025)
And yet, something familiar is stirring.
The Great Resignation 2.0.
But unlike its predecessor, this wave doesn’t carry the tone of hope or possibility. This isn’t reevaluation, it’s rejection.
People aren’t just job-hopping to improve their careers. They’re opting out entirely, leaving systems that feel exploitative and unsustainable.
According to Forbes and The Guardian, a second surge of resignations is underway across the U.S. and Europe, led by Millennials and Gen Z. Disillusioned by instability, burnout, and a perceived lack of meaning in their work, they’re walking away, this time not in search of better jobs, but of better lives. (Forbes, Dec 2024; The Guardian, Jan 2025)
This isn’t a trend. It’s a response.
A collective no to unpredictability. To being overextended and under-supported. To the slow realization that if change is going to happen, it won’t come from the top down.
We’ll have to rewrite the system ourselves.
And So… Where Does That Leave Us?
This journey began with a question: Why is worker confidence at its lowest since April 2020?
And what’s emerged isn’t a single answer, but a story. A story of upheaval, uncertainty, and emotional fatigue. Of jobs lost, re-found, and lost again. Of boundaries set, only to be bulldozed. Of disillusionment not just with work, but with the systems around it.
Over the past five years, the collective experience has shifted: From hustle to hesitation. From clarity to confusion. From belief in the system to skepticism of everything it promised. And underneath all of it, a slow unraveling of inner stability, the kind of grounding that makes it possible to feel clear-headed, purposeful, and present.
Not everyone will see themselves in this story. Some weathered the storm and came out stronger. Some love what they do, feel fulfilled, and are exactly where they’re meant to be. If that’s the case, hold on to that joy. Protect it. Keep going. There’s nothing to shift.
But for others, this story lands differently. For those still feeling unsteady, unsure, or stuck, this isn’t about being anti-work. It’s about being pro-human. This isn’t a call to quit. It’s an invitation to pause.
Because there’s only so much that can be controlled. Economic downturns can’t be stopped. Layoffs can’t always be predicted. Market forces won’t bend to individual will. But what can be reclaimed is clarity and the space to ask:
What matters now? Where has autopilot taken over? What needs to be restored to feel grounded again?
For some, that clarity might mean staying, just differently, with more intention, with new boundaries. For others, it might mean stepping into something unfamiliar, not as an escape, but as a deliberate step toward alignment.
The shift needed isn’t about rebellion. It’s about recalibration. Not as a luxury, but as a necessity. Because rebuilding from burnout isn’t possible. Rebuilding from clarity is.
Maybe now isn’t the time to ask “what’s next”, maybe now is the time to ask:
What version of self needs to be brought into the next chapter? And what version is it finally time to leave behind?
#SeeSeekShift #Selfternity #TheGreatUnraveling #WorkplaceWellbeing
