Why Good Employees Ghost You in December (And It's Not About the Holidays)
Last December, I watched a perfectly functional company nearly implode. Not because of budgets or bad sales or Brexit. Because nobody could figure out who was working between Christmas and New Year.
Let me paint you a picture.
The December Descent
It starts innocently in October. Someone asks, "So, what's everyone doing for Christmas?" By November, there's a spreadsheet. By December 1st, that spreadsheet is a war zone.
Emma from sales has color-coded her requests in pink. James has added formulas that somehow calculate negative leave days. Someone's dog has definitely walked across the keyboard because cell F17 just says "fffffffff." And nobody – absolutely nobody – can remember if the 27th is a company holiday or not.
This is every British company in December. We've just accepted it as tradition, like terrible Christmas jumpers and Linda from accounting getting too honest at the party.
The Part Nobody Admits
Here's what actually happens in December: your best people check out mentally around the 15th. Not because they're lazy. Because they're exhausted from playing leave Tetris.
They've spent three weeks trying to book time off. They've been told maybe. Then yes. Then actually no because Steve booked it first. Then yes again because Steve's plans changed. By the time it's sorted, they've already mentally quit until January.
I know a developer who literally flipped a coin to decide his Christmas leave last year. Heads: he'd take the 23rd off. Tails: he'd work and be bitter about it. The coin landed tails. He spent the day fixing bugs while everyone else was at home. He left the company in February.
The Steve Problem
Every office has a Steve. Steve books all the good dates in January. Every. Single. Year. Christmas week? Steve. School holidays? Steve. That random sunny Thursday in May? Somehow, Steve knew.
Steve isn't evil. Steve just understands something most of us don't: if you don't claim your dates early, you're stuck working while everyone else is drinking mulled wine.
The problem isn't Steve. It's that we've created a system where being Steve is the only way to win.
What Banking Taught Me About Time Off
I used to work at a bank. Terrible in many ways, but they had one thing figured out: forced leave allocation. Sounds dystopian, but hear me out.
Everyone HAD to take two consecutive weeks off. No exceptions. Not even for Steve. It was partly about fraud prevention (hard to hide dodgy dealing when someone else does your job for two weeks), but it had an amazing side effect.
Nobody hoarded leave. Nobody played games. You knew months in advance when people would be gone. Planning was actually... planned.
The December Solution That Actually Works
A logistics company in Birmingham tried something radical last year. They made a rule: all December leave requests had to be submitted by September 30th. Not first-come-first-served. Everyone submits, then they work it out.
Chaos, right?
Wrong.
When everyone could see everyone else's requests at once, something weird happened. People started talking. "I see you want the 23rd off – that's my daughter's play. Could you do the 22nd instead?" Actual human conversations instead of passive-aggressive spreadsheet warfare.
By October 15th, everything was sorted. December was calm. The HR manager actually took leave herself instead of spending the month mediating disputes about Boxing Day.
Why This Matters More Than You Think
December leave drama isn't just about December. It's a symptom. If your team can't figure out how to share 10 working days fairly, what else aren't they figuring out?
That project deadline everyone forgot about? Same root cause. That client who's been waiting for a response for two weeks? Same problem. That innovation you keep talking about but never seems to happen? You guessed it.
When people spend mental energy on leave logistics, they're not spending it on actual work.
The Uncomfortable Question
Ask yourself this: how much December productivity do you lose to leave administration? Not people being on leave – that's fine. But people talking about leave, worrying about leave, resenting each other about leave.
I bet it's more than you think.
One company I know calculated it. Between the meetings, the emails, the "quick chats," and the time spent updating and re-updating the sacred spreadsheet, they lost 150 hours of productivity. In one month. In a company of 30 people.
That's basically a full-time job. Except instead of producing anything, someone's just managing the politics of who gets to eat turkey in peace.
The Path Forward
You don't need to revolutionize your leave system. You just need to stop pretending the current one works.
Whether it's software, a better spreadsheet, or just actual rules that everyone follows (including Steve), pick something. Make it clear. Make it fair. Make it boring.
Because here's the secret: leave management should be boring. The moment it becomes interesting is the moment it's broken.
This December, while other companies descend into their annual leave chaos, imagine being done with it all by October. Imagine December being about finishing the year strong, not figuring out who's working on the 27th.
It's possible. You just have to be willing to admit that what you're doing now isn't tradition. It's insanity.
