Redundancy is a business decision. How you do it is a cultural one

When organisations are under pressure, their values stop being words on a wall.

They become a system of choices.

Who gets told what.
How much time people are given.
Whether leaders own the story.
Whether the people leaving are treated as a cost to remove, or as humans who helped build the business.

That was the thread running through the latest episode of Freeformers Unplugged, where Toby Kheng and Emilie Forrest explored two very different stories: BrewDog’s collapse into administration and sale to Tilray, and Block’s decision to cut thousands of roles as it reorganises around AI.

The contrast is uncomfortable. But useful.

Because redundancy is never only about the people who leave. It is also about the people who stay. The customers watching. The market judging. The brand absorbing the consequences.

And, in a world where AI is reshaping work faster than many organisations can process, the question is no longer whether businesses will have to make hard people decisions.

They will.

The question is whether they will make them with courage and care.

Two companies. Two stories. One bigger lesson

BrewDog’s situation is a story of brand, growth, debt, culture and consequence. The company was sold to Tilray Brands in a reported £33m rescue deal, with 38 bars closing and 484 jobs lost, while more than 700 roles were preserved.

For many observers, the emotional weight of the story comes from what BrewDog used to represent. Punk energy. Community. Rebellion. A customer and employee following that felt less like a transaction and more like belonging.

That is what makes moments like this hurt more.

When a brand builds loyalty through identity, it cannot be surprised when people experience business failure as personal betrayal.

Block’s story is different. Jack Dorsey framed the company’s cuts as a proactive move into an AI-native operating model. Reports say Block reduced headcount from more than 10,000 to just under 6,000, with Dorsey arguing that “intelligence tools” have changed what it means to build and run a company.

The market liked the story. Investors rewarded the clarity. The severance package also appeared materially more generous than many US redundancy norms, with reports of 20 weeks’ salary, additional tenure-based pay, equity vesting, healthcare cover and transition support.

That does not make the decision painless. Four thousand people losing their jobs is not a neat case study. It is a human event.

But it does show something important.

You can make a brutal commercial decision and still reduce unnecessary harm.

The real measure is not the announcement. It is the aftershock

Most organisations focus on the moment of communication.

The all-hands call.
The email.
The legal script.
The FAQ document.
The manager briefing.

Those things matter. But they are not the whole story.

The true impact of redundancy shows up afterwards.

It shows up in the person who has to take the first job they can find because there is no financial runway. It shows up in the team left behind, suddenly expected to do more with less while wondering whether they are next. It shows up in customers asking whether the company they trusted still behaves like the company they bought into.

This is where too many organisations get it wrong.

They treat redundancy as an HR process when it is really a relationship moment.

A relationship may have to end. That does not mean it has to be careless.

In the episode, Toby and Emilie kept returning to this idea of time. A generous package does not remove the pain of losing work, but it can give people space to make better choices. It gives them room to find the right next step, rather than the first available escape route.

That matters commercially too.

People who leave well can become advocates, alumni, customers, partners or future returners. People who leave badly become the story you never wanted told.

AI makes this more urgent, not less human

Block’s decision points to a bigger shift.

AI is no longer only a tool for productivity experiments. It is becoming part of how leaders redesign operating models, headcount, roles and value creation.

That is not automatically wrong.

Some organisations have over-hired. Some work will genuinely change. Some roles will disappear. Some teams will become smaller, faster and more technically enabled.

But “AI can do it” is not a people strategy.

It is a claim. And claims need proof.

Leaders need to ask harder questions before turning AI productivity into redundancy logic.

Can the work genuinely be done with fewer people, or are we shifting unsustainable pressure onto those who remain?
Have we explored redeployment, reskilling or role redesign before removing people?
Do managers know how to lead through the emotional aftermath?
Are we measuring productivity only in output, or also in trust, morale and quality?
Are we using AI as a strategic catalyst, or as a convenient story for decisions we already wanted to make?

This is where evidence matters more than optics.

AI may change the shape of work. But culture determines whether that change creates progress or damage.

Compliance is the floor. Humanity is the standard

There is a temptation, especially in crisis, to retreat into the legal minimum.

What do we have to say?
What do we have to pay?
What do we have to consult on?
What can we get away with?

Those are necessary questions. But they are not sufficient.

Employment law sets the floor. Culture sets the standard.

The organisations that navigate redundancy best do not pretend it is positive. They do not wrap job loss in glossy transformation language. They do not ask people to be grateful for being displaced.

They tell the truth clearly. They explain the commercial reality. They acknowledge the human cost. They equip managers properly. They give people as much time, money, dignity and practical support as they reasonably can.

Less corporate theatre. More human responsibility.

That is the balance Freeformers talks about: humanity and commerciality fuelling each other, not fighting for space. The copywriting guide frames this as moving beyond transactional HR towards a relational, equitable balance where employer, employee and customer value are connected.

Redundancy is one of the hardest tests of that belief.

Because Mutual Lifetime Value is not only built through onboarding, benefits, learning programmes or engagement campaigns.

It is built in the exit too.

The people who stay are watching

One of the biggest mistakes leaders make is assuming redundancy is primarily about the people leaving.

It is also a message to everyone who remains.

They are watching how fairly decisions are made. They are listening for honesty. They are judging whether loyalty flows both ways. They are deciding, quietly, whether this is still a place they want to give their energy to.

You can cut roles and keep trust.

But only if the process feels coherent, fair and human.

That means managers need more than a script. They need emotional readiness, commercial context and the confidence to hold difficult conversations without hiding behind process.

Because the manager experience becomes the employee experience.

If managers are unsupported, inconsistency spreads. Some people receive empathy and clarity. Others receive confusion and coldness. That inconsistency becomes the culture.

A better redundancy question

The question is not: how do we make redundancy painless?

You cannot.

The better question is: how do we make it honest, humane and commercially responsible?

That means thinking about redundancy as part of the employee relationship, not an exception to it. It means designing exits with the same care organisations put into attraction and onboarding. It means understanding that reputation is not just built by what you promise when things are going well, but by what you protect when things are falling apart.

BrewDog and Block are not simple opposites. Both stories involve loss. Both involve commercial pressure. Both will have consequences that unfold over time.

But together, they show the choice every organisation faces.

You can treat people as a line item.

Or you can treat them as part of the value system that made the business possible in the first place.

The future of work will involve harder calls, not easier ones.

AI will accelerate that. Markets will reward efficiency. Boards will ask sharper questions about headcount, productivity and cost.

But the organisations worth following will ask one more question.

Not just: does this make us leaner?

Does this keep us worthy of trust?