Health

Bernard O’Shea: Five things I learned about the workplace epidemic of quiet cracking

By Bernard O’shea,Irishexaminer.com

Copyright irishexaminer

Bernard O'Shea: Five things I learned about the workplace epidemic of quiet cracking

Here are five things I learned about quiet cracking — the quietest workplace epidemic you’ll never hear coming.

1. The sound of silence: Nobody knows you’re cracking

The oddest part of quiet cracking is that it’s invisible. Outwardly, you’re fine. You’re still doing the emails, nodding in meetings. But inside? You’re gone. You’ve mentally checked out and relocated to the large petrol station outside Urlingford, where all the buses stop.

That’s the ‘quiet’ bit. You don’t throw your laptop out the window. You don’t stage a dramatic resignation scene. You just… fade in to yourself. In Ireland, this silence is doubled by our cultural instinct to keep our heads down. Complaining feels dangerous. We’d rather let the carpet wear away under our chair wheels than admit we’re unhappy.

You can spot a quiet cracker by the little things. Their conversations narrow to weather reports about office supplies. They’ll spend 10 minutes explaining the temperamental nature of the microwave, as if it were a family member.

Global workplace surveys suggest up to 60% of employees are disengaged — present in body, absent in spirit. Which means most of us have either been the quiet cracker or sat beside one.

2. The paycheck is a prison guard

Ask anyone why they stay in a job that’s slowly draining them, and the answer is short: Money.

The steady paycheck becomes both a lifeline and a trap. You look at your bank account, think about the mortgage, the children, the car insurance, and you sigh. Then you show up for another week of workplace bingo, where every square says, ‘Could this meeting have been an email?’

Psychologists refer to this phenomenon as the sunk-cost fallacy. It’s like watching all nine seasons of a terrible television series, because, ‘Well, I’ve come this far.’ (Yes, I’m talking about you, Lost.)

3. Change is scarier than your boss

Another reason quiet cracking thrives is fear. Not of the boss, but fear of change.

We cling to the devil we know. Also, interviews are terrifying. Updating your CV feels like retaking your Leaving Cert.

And there’s always the risk that the next job is worse. You imagine swapping one misery for another and think, Why bother?

This is called status-quo bias. We overvalue what we know, even if it’s bad for us. It’s why you order the same chicken curry from the same takeaway every week, even though you’ve read the rest of the menu 50 times.

4. The body keeps the score

One of the loudest alarms of quiet cracking? Your body.

In Ireland, we brush it off: ‘Ah, sure, I’m grand.’ But the truth is that chronic stress makes itself known. Headaches, stomach problems, insomnia, constant fatigue — your body doesn’t lie. It knows when you’re cracking.

And it spills over. You drag the exhaustion home. You snap at your children. You eat rubbish late at night, because it’s comforting.

You lose the energy for exercise, then beat yourself up for not exercising. The cycle tightens.

Science backs this: High cortisol levels resulting from long-term stress can erode your health. It’s not ‘just in your head’. It’s in your bloodstream, your sleep, your mood.

So here’s the practical rule (I’m never normally a rule or advice giver, but I’ve been here): if you’re crying in your car, polishing spoons that aren’t yours, or counting the ceiling tiles instead of working, it’s not ‘just stress’. It’s your body waving a flag. And ignoring it only makes the crack wider.

5. There are always options

Here’s the hopeful part: Quiet cracking isn’t permanent.

People find ways through it. Some leave jobs, others change roles, and others start something completely new. We all know one friend who was balancing accounts or checking HR contracts on Friday, left, and started breeding lamas on an abandoned west coast island Monday morning (this is an extreme example)

I know people who retrained at 40, who swapped careers again at 45, and who discovered side hustles that grew in to whole businesses.

I know one man who began posting silly videos online, which reignited his love for stand-up comedy, and is now back doing what he loved doing when he was in his early 20s. (Not that I’d know anything about that.)

We imagine escape has to be dramatic: Handing in your notice, slamming doors, never looking back. But, often, the way out is sideways: A transfer to another department, a project that lights you up, or even reframing what you already do.

The trick is to start small. Try one new thing outside work: A night course; volunteering; picking up a hobby. Even badly scribbling in a notebook can be the seed of a new path.

If you don’t feel like it, just show up. It’s the most underrated skill in the world. If you don’t like it and it’s out of your comfort zone, then you can at least say, ‘Well, I went’ (this works on children, too).

Naming it matters, too. Once you say, ‘Yes, I’m quietly cracking,’ you’re not powerless anymore. You can watch for the signs. You can make small changes. You can take a step — even a tiny one.