burnout on the frontline: my wake-up call and what you can learn
unveiling the unseen culprits
In the world of humanitarian aid, the battle against burnout is a constant struggle. I vividly remember the day our CEO gathered us at HQ, concerned about our collective mental health. As the room filled with weary aid workers, her question echoed, 'Tell me why you burn out.'
In a moment of unexpected boldness, I blurted out, 'Internal Politics!' The surprise in the room mirrored my own, as I, someone who rarely spoke up in big meetings, found myself vocalizing a deep-seated concern.
Contrary to popular belief, burnout for aid workers isn't always rooted in the expected challenges—witnessing hardship, harsh working conditions, insecurity, endless hours, and the isolation from home. In my experience, the silent culprits are internal politics, disillusionment, lack of support from management, and the constant struggle of reintegrating back home. In this article I will explore the two most relevant to all frontline workers; lack of support and internal politics and disillusionment.
These subtle, often overlooked factors play a significant role in eroding the resilience and happiness of frontline workers.
Behind the Scenes of frontline Work: Recognising the Faces of Burnout
Consumed by Mental Paralysis – a mind overloaded, refusing any more input; thinking, sleeping, and coherent sentences slipping away. Burnout, to me, was a complete mental blank.
Does this sound familiar?
Juggling the emergency response, I held off my burnout until the team was ready, trucks on the ground, and aid flowing. Was it luck or my non-stop momentum since landing? You decide.
Regardless, I made it clear to HQ that they could pull me out if needed or that if I stayed I would ‘do no harm’ until the permanent country director came in. They asked that I stay.
Trapped in this state until the next security incident hit. Abruptly, I snapped into autopilot, sorting this, briefing on that – back in my uneasy comfort zone. That’s when it hit me. I was only able to function when there was an extreme event—I have always been an ‘all or nothing person,’ but this was taking it too far!
definitions
Burnout, as experienced in the realm of aid work, is a multifaceted beast, and its technical definition, according to the World Health Organisation (WHO), encapsulates a state of chronic workplace stress that has not been successfully managed. WHO emphasises three dimensions: feelings of energy depletion or exhaustion, increased mental distance from one's job or feelings of negativity or cynicism related to it, and reduced professional efficacy.
reality
In real terms, burnout manifests itself uniquely in each individual. It can be a slow, gradual process or an abrupt intrusion into our lives, leaving us grappling with its aftereffects for an extended period. The toll it takes on frontline workers is significant, impacting not just their professional lives but seeping into personal well-being.
Statistics on burnout among frontline workers paint a stark reality. A notable percentage faces the daunting challenge of burnout, with implications that extend far beyond the workplace.
‘Burnout’; a dirty word
Unfortunately, burnout is still a dirty word for many employers, either sneered at or ignored within many organisations, perpetuating a culture of silence and endurance. The consequences, however, extend far beyond the workplace, infiltrating personal relationships and overall well-being. Your organisation's support, if you're lucky, is minimal; if not, it's non-existent. At worse, too many of us face ‘punishment’ when uttering the dreaded word; pushed away from opportunities, and kept at arm’s length - a bleak and lonely place to be. You know the story. So, it pretty much falls squarely on your shoulders to keep that candle burning.
So allow yourself a moment to reflect on these questions:
Do you recognise the signs of burnout within yourself?
Can you identify the triggers that set you on the path to burnout?
Equally crucial, what support systems do you have in place to address and mitigate it before it catches up with you?
Burnout Culprit #1: Management, or Lack Thereof...
Ever found yourself at work, overwhelmed, wondering when your superviser will check in next and what on earth you'll say to them this time?
In my experience, management, or the lack of it, is a significant contributor to frontline worker burnout.
If you're lucky, you get one hour a week with your boss, but you're left pondering where to start. Sharing your struggles seems risky; you don't want to be labeled a complainer. It's a lonely game because, as they keep reminding you, if you don't like it, there are plenty others lucky enough to take your place.
Unfortunately, this is the reality for many frontline workers, especially those in large organisations where things aren't always crystal clear. For much of the time, these were my realities too.
Whether dealing with a weak manager or a 'largely absent' one, the result is the same – isolation, fear of being thrown under the bus when things don't go to plan, and a constant feeling of being unappreciated. Added to that, in your mind at least, you become indispensable. If you leave or fall sick, who will take care of things? You had no support before. What's different now? Right?
I'm not here to throw stones at all my past managers. While this was my reality for many of the years in the sector, I was also a manager, and I was certainly not perfect. Can I expect them to have been?
solutions?
So, what's the solution when, for much of the time, it is not the manager to blame, rather the system is at fault - and frankly not conducive to pastoral care for its staff? Let's be realistic; how many of us can crack that nut (although many, including me, have tried and failed many times)?
the ultimate sin
And here's the crucial point – the ultimate sin of a frontline worker: showing weakness and, worst of all, being seen as high maintenance. Opening up about your struggles feels like a risk; you fear being perceived as unfit to handle the emergency operation. But here's the thing, admitting vulnerability is not weakness; it's the courage to confront the real challenges. It took me a long time to be vulnerable. I'm doing it now, writing to you, and it feels good.
No solutions; but questions
I'm not going to offer solutions because I don't have them. Instead, maybe consider some questions that helped get me through some of the lowest points in my career.
What realistically can you change?
What support mechanisms do you have in the absence of that management support?
Are you really (really) indispensable, or can you afford to give yourself some well-deserved time out?
And finally, how can you learn to say no? It is possible!
Burnout Culprit #2 - Internal Politics and Disillusionment
I find myself reflecting on the countless occasions I questioned the distinction between working for an aid agency and a global fast food company! This comparison, in fairness, was more pronounced at headquarters (HQ), where meetings often revolved around ‘profit’ rather than our core objectives. Competition for resources, bureaucratic hurdles, and interpersonal conflicts were constant companions. Add a dash of backstabbing and dodgy gender dynamics, and you've got all the ingredients for a riveting Netflix drama.
In the field, the dynamics may appear different – less time, higher priorities – but the aroma of fries from HQ can seep into operations if vigilance isn't maintained.
what are internal politics?
So, what exactly are internal politics, and how do they impact us? Too frequently, I observed that internal (and external) political agendas overshadowed the humanitarian imperative. This manifested in various ways, but it boiled down to power struggles, with frontline workers and ultimately affected people bearing the brunt. Decisions that seemed straightforward on the ground became complex and often unbearable as multiple layers of management intervened – often without truly grasping the situation. In hindsight, understanding the challenges faced by HQ staff might have provided some clarity.
Yet, there's no manual to navigate the intricacies of global politics as they intersect with large organisations and, ultimately, the individuals we aim to serve. Before you know it, you're entangled in it all without even realising.
On a more visible level, power struggles within teams are pervasive. I won't dwell on these, but you're likely familiar with the scenario: those with the loudest (and most prestigious) voices tend to lead the charge, sometimes at the expense of taking credit for others' work. It's a scenario encountered in most business environments, but what disappoints me most is the sacrifice of integrity and ethical conduct.
The cumulative effect of these challenges is disillusionment. How do you cope? For me, it boiled down to a simple mantra: I remained in a role as long as I felt I could uphold my own principles. Once that became untenable, I moved on. As a result, my career was wonderfully diverse and varied, but it shouldn't have had to be that way.
what can we actually change?
So, when we distill it down, one question remains: what can we actually change? We may not have control over the power struggles at the top or the complexities of global politics, but there are aspects within our reach. It may sound simplistic, but I wish I had embraced this wisdom earlier in my career as an aid worker. It could have spared me from burnout and enabled me to achieve more.
Conclusion
Burnout wears many faces, and no two people experience it the same way.
After 25 years on the frontlines as an aid worker, I’ve found that the most draining challenges weren’t always the emergencies or crises—it was the internal politics, the creeping disillusionment, and the lack of meaningful support. These are deep, systemic issues, and finding solutions often feels impossible when the structures around us seem immovable.
But one truth has stood out through it all: the most important work we can do is the work we do on ourselves. That means staying present with your emotions, checking in with your values, being aware of your thoughts, and understanding what sets you off.
When something doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t. So pause. Listen. Reflect. And focus on what’s within your power to shift—yourself.