Not Fired, You’re Just ‘Let Go’

In recent corporate news, Zomato compassionately “let go” of 600 customer support employees, citing a slowdown in food deliveries and a shift toward automation. Not to be outdone, Ola Electric announced plans to gracefully shed 1,000 employees, while Hewlett Packard Enterprise, not wanting to miss out on the corporate euphemism trend, gently “released” 2,500 workers to offset declining profits.

“Let go”

In today’s fast-paced corporate world, language evolves faster than you can say “performance review.” Enter the phrase “let go,” the hottest euphemism burning up corporate jargon these days. Ah, “let go”—a phrase so tender it evokes images of releasing injured wildlife lovingly back into their natural habitat.

Gone are the crass days of “firing” or “termination,” replaced with a term so gentle it sounds like releasing a rehabilitated baby bird back into the wild. Never mind that the “wild” here translates to the brutal jungles of unemployment, laden with LinkedIn invites, generic rejections, and meetup dinners that never quite taste like success.

Picture the scene: You’re in a sterile conference room, seated opposite Sheila Webb from HR, whose empathetic smile barely masks the discomfort of delivering someone else’s harsh decision. Poor Sheila, the reluctant bearer of corporate doom, armed only with empathetic nods and a reheated smile. She leans forward gently and whispers:

“We’re going to have to let you go.”

For a brief, bewildered moment, you wonder if you’ve been kidnapped, perhaps trapped in some corporate-themed escape room. Let me go? Was I held captive all this time? Have I unknowingly been chained to my cubicle for years? Have the shackles of employment finally been unlocked?

The transformation of firing

“Letting go” now comes cloaked in mindfulness, painted as a Zen-like release into spiritual liberation. But let’s be clear—this spiritual awakening is forced by companies that once frantically hired like Black Friday shoppers grabbing discounted televisions. Executives, drunk on the promise of limitless growth, made wild staffing decisions with all the careful planning of a toddler let loose in a candy store.

HR managers, mere instruments wielded by shadowy corporate overlords, now speak in hushed, Zen-like tones:

“We’re just letting you go…freeing you from your daily bondage to explore the infinite possibilities of unemployment.”

But let’s be honest. Being “let go” doesn’t exactly come with the gentle nudge it promises. In reality, it’s more like being hurled off a financial cliff with a “good luck” parachute stitched together by unpaid bills and LinkedIn connection requests from people you barely remember. It implies agency, as though you’re being set loose from a cage of responsibilities to frolic joyously in the meadows of opportunity. Never mind that those meadows are filled with job applications and awkward conversations about employment gaps. In most of those conversations you end up feigning enthusiasm for roles requiring “five years of experience in technology invented two years ago.”

One big family

Ironically, these announcements often follow company-wide emails proclaiming: “We’re one big family!”. That too just before mandatory team-building retreats where everyone awkwardly pretends they’re not on a corporate Titanic headed straight for an iceberg. The message is clear: families stick together—at least until quarterly earnings reports dictate otherwise.

This corporate-speak has become so comforting, you almost look forward to your next firing—I mean, letting go. Maybe they’ll even add a few more euphemisms for good measure: “We’re setting you adrift,”. Or perhaps, “We’ve chosen to grant you professional independence.” It’s almost poetic. Except poetry doesn’t usually come with a box for your personal belongings and security escorting you gently out the front door.

Chin up !

But fear not! As you walk to your cab with your desk cactus and “World’s Best Employee” mug tucked under your arm, remember—you’re not jobless, you’re liberated! You’re free to follow your passion, assuming your passion involves eating instant noodles and frantically networking on LinkedIn.

So here’s to you, corporate masterminds everywhere, masters of compassionate ambiguity. Keep letting people go—after all, nothing screams company culture like softening a professional gut-punch with gentle language. And to all those who’ve been “let go”: congratulations! Your cage is open; just watch your step on the way out.