The engineer stayed late every night that quarter. Never complained. Never missed a deadline. I only noticed because his commits came in at 3 AM.
When I finally asked, he mentioned the breakup. His father's surgery. Work was where he channeled everything he couldn't say.
Two months later, he left for a company that noticed him first. We were too late.
Every company has these people. They work within the seams. Between the levels. Outside the performance matrix.
They don't hit your L5 requirements because they're doing L3 and L7 work simultaneously. Fixing the deploy pipeline while mentoring juniors. Answering customer emails while rebuilding core systems. They can't be ranked because they do what nobody thought to measure.
Performance reviews punish them. They lack "scope" because they fix problems before they become projects. No "leadership" because they lead by doing, not declaring. No "impact" because preventing fires doesn't generate OKRs.
By the time they ask for recognition, they're already gone. The ask isn't a request. It's a test you've already failed.
The best performers expect their work to be seen without having to announce it. When forced to advocate for themselves, something fundamental breaks. They realize the system rewards performance theater over actual performance.
We built performance matrices to seem fair. Instead, they systematically reward visible mediocrity over invisible excellence.
At every startup I've joined, the most critical person was impossible to promote. Their work crossed every boundary. They couldn't be leveled because levels assume you do one thing well, not twenty things invisibly.
The designer who rewrote every error message over three weekends. Support tickets dropped 40%. Never mentioned it. Error messages aren't in quarterly goals. When she left, we hired two people to do what she did invisibly.
When they leave, you discover infrastructure no one knew existed. Documentation written at midnight. Relationships maintained without a title. Systems created without a ticket.
Every quiet builder watching learns the lesson: being essential doesn't matter if you're not loud about it.
Recognition isn't spotlight. It's seeing the person, not just the commits. Equity before they ask. Titles that don't fit your matrix. Or simply asking about their father instead of the feature.
Your job isn't to level them. It's to see them before they stop believing being seen matters.
The next time someone's commits come in at 3 AM, don't check the code first.
Check on the person.
Because the quiet ones don't leave angry. They leave when they realize you only measure what's loud, never what's essential.
This is a great read, really resonates. Food for thought re: performance management.