“Don’t Skip the Goodbye”: Why Space for Grief Is Vital in Local Government Change
- truthaboutlocalgov
- Oct 10
- 9 min read
In local government, change is constant but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Whether it’s the closure of a beloved civic building, the merging of councils through Local Government Reorganisation (LGR), or the departure of a respected leader, these transitions often carry emotional weight. And yet, in the rush to restructure, rationalise, and reform, we risk overlooking a crucial stage: the goodbye. The goodbye isn’t just symbolic it’s a psychological necessity. When people lose something they’ve formed a connection with, whether it’s a workplace, a team, or a shared identity, they experience a form of grief. This grief, if unacknowledged, doesn’t simply disappear. It lingers, often manifesting as resistance to change, disengagement, or even burnout. Staff may feel disoriented, undervalued, or left behind. Communities may feel unheard or disconnected from the new structures being imposed upon them.
In the context of LGR, for example, the dissolution of a council isn’t just an administrative shift it’s the end of a legacy. Staff who’ve served for decades may feel like their contributions are being erased. Residents may mourn the loss of local identity. Similarly, when a civic building closes, it’s not just a change in location it’s the loss of a space where relationships were built, milestones were marked, and public service was lived. Creating space for goodbye means recognising these emotional undercurrents and responding with empathy and intention. It means allowing time for reflection, storytelling, and closure. It means honouring what came before, so that people can more fully commit to what comes next.
Without this space, change initiatives risk becoming hollow. Staff may comply, but not engage. Communities may adapt, but not trust. Leaders may push forward, but find themselves dragging a reluctant organisation behind them. The future programme no matter how well designed is jeopardised if the emotional transition is ignored.
As William Bridges said, “Transition begins with an ending.” If we don’t allow people to end well, we deny them the chance to begin again with clarity, purpose, and hope.

Change Isn’t Just Structural It’s Emotional
William Bridges, in his seminal work Managing Transitions, reminds us:
“It isn’t the changes that do you in, it’s the transitions. Change is situational; transition is psychological.”
This distinction is critical in local government, where change often arrives in the form of structural shifts new governance models, estate rationalisation, leadership turnover, or the merging of councils. These are tangible, visible changes. But beneath the surface lies a quieter, more complex process: the emotional transition.
When a council closes its doors, it’s not just bricks and mortar being lost it’s the memories, the relationships, the sense of place. These buildings are more than offices; they are the backdrop to careers, community milestones, and decades of public service. Staff may have walked the same corridors for 20 or 30 years, forming bonds not just with colleagues but with the very fabric of the institution. The closure of such spaces can feel like the erasure of identity. Similarly, when councils merge through Local Government Reorganisation (LGR), the impact goes far beyond governance charts. Staff may feel a loss of belonging, unsure where they fit in the new structure. Long-standing traditions, local pride, and shared histories can be diluted or discarded. Communities may feel disconnected from larger, more centralised authorities, fearing that their voices will be lost in the scale-up.
And when a senior leader departs especially one who has shaped culture, championed values, or led through crisis it can feel like the loss of a guiding compass. Staff may grieve not just the person, but the stability, clarity, and inspiration that leader provided. Their exit can trigger uncertainty, anxiety, and a sense of being adrift. These emotional responses are not signs of resistance they are signs of humanity. They reflect care, connection, and commitment. And they must be acknowledged.
Too often, change programmes focus solely on logistics: who reports to whom, which buildings will close, what systems will be adopted. But if we fail to address the emotional landscape, we risk building on unstable ground. Staff who feel unheard or unseen may disengage. Communities who feel excluded may withdraw trust. Leaders who ignore grief may find themselves managing dysfunction rather than driving progress. To lead change well, we must lead people through transition. That means recognising loss, validating emotion, and creating space for reflection. It means understanding that before people can embrace the new, they must first let go of the old and that letting go takes time, support, and care.

The Cost of Ignoring Grief
Organisational change is often framed as a strategic necessity an opportunity to streamline, modernise, or improve services. But beneath the spreadsheets and project plans lies a human reality: change hurts. And when grief is ignored, the consequences ripple far beyond individual wellbeing. Research consistently shows that organisational change especially when it involves downsizing, restructuring, or mergers is linked to increased psychosocial risks and poorer mental health outcomes for staff. A German study of over 53,000 employees found that those undergoing change were significantly more likely to report sleep disturbances, nervousness, and depressive symptoms. These aren’t minor side effects they’re indicators of deep emotional strain.
Other studies have shown that mergers and reorganisations can lead to spikes in stress, anxiety, and even suicide rates, particularly among employees with fewer coping resources or support systems. The emotional toll is compounded when change is rapid, poorly communicated, or perceived as unjust. In such environments, staff may feel powerless, undervalued, or betrayed.
In local government, where many employees are deeply committed to public service and their communities, the impact can be even more profound. These are not just jobs they are vocations. Staff often carry a strong sense of identity tied to their council, their building, their team, and their leadership. When these anchors are removed without recognition or support, it can trigger a sense of loss that is both personal and professional.
Ignoring grief doesn’t just harm individuals it undermines the very programmes we’re trying to implement. Staff who are emotionally disengaged are less likely to innovate, collaborate, or lead. Morale drops. Absenteeism rises. Trust erodes. And the organisation begins to fracture, not because the strategy is flawed, but because the people tasked with delivering it are hurting.
Moreover, unacknowledged grief can manifest as resistance. Staff may push back against new systems, question leadership decisions, or cling to old ways of working not out of stubbornness, but out of unresolved emotional attachment. Without space to process what’s been lost, they cannot fully embrace what’s ahead.
As leaders, we must recognise that grief is not a barrier to change it’s a bridge. By creating space for reflection, storytelling, and closure, we allow people to move through their emotions rather than suppress them. We build resilience, foster trust, and lay the emotional groundwork for sustainable transformation. Because when we ignore grief, we don’t just risk hurting people we risk losing the heart of the organisation.

Why Space Matters
Creating space for grief isn’t a luxury it’s a necessity. In the context of local government change, it’s not just a compassionate gesture it’s a strategic imperative. As Amy K. Hutchens insightfully puts it:
“Humans are prone to avoid loss, but we don’t fear change. We fear not being successful in a new way.”
This quote captures the heart of the issue. People aren’t resisting change because they’re unwilling to evolve they’re resisting because they haven’t yet had the chance to let go of what came before. Without that letting go, the psychological bandwidth required to embrace the new simply isn’t available.
By allowing staff and communities to process what’s ending, we give them the psychological safety to embrace what’s beginning. This isn’t about slowing down progress it’s about ensuring progress is sustainable, inclusive, and emotionally intelligent. Creating space might mean:
Holding farewell events for closing buildings: These aren’t just ceremonies they’re rituals of closure. They allow people to honour the memories, relationships, and achievements tied to a physical space. They validate the emotional connection and signal that the past is respected, not erased.
Creating legacy projects that honour the history of outgoing councils: Whether it’s a digital archive, a commemorative publication, or a storytelling initiative, legacy projects help preserve identity. They allow staff and residents to see their contributions reflected in the narrative of change, fostering pride and continuity.
Offering coaching or reflective sessions during leadership transitions: Leadership changes can be destabilising. Coaching provides a safe space for staff to explore their feelings, recalibrate their goals, and prepare for new dynamics. It also helps leaders themselves navigate the emotional terrain of stepping into or out of a role.
Communicating openly about what’s being lost and why: Transparency builds trust. When leaders acknowledge the emotional impact of change and explain the rationale behind decisions, they invite dialogue rather than defensiveness. This openness helps staff feel seen, heard, and respected.
Space matters because it allows people to metabolise change. It transforms grief into growth, resistance into resilience, and uncertainty into readiness. In local government where change often affects not just systems but identities this space is not optional. It’s the foundation upon which successful transformation is built.

The Kübler-Ross Change Curve: A Useful Lens
The Kübler-Ross model, originally developed to understand the emotional journey of grief, has become a widely respected framework in change management. It outlines five emotional stages that individuals often move through when faced with significant loss or disruption: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.
In the context of local government change whether it’s Local Government Reorganisation (LGR), estate rationalisation, or leadership transitions these stages are not just theoretical. They play out in real time, across teams, departments, and communities.
Denial might look like staff insisting “this won’t really happen,” or avoiding conversations about the change.
Anger can manifest as frustration with leadership, cynicism about the process, or conflict between teams.
Bargaining may involve attempts to preserve old ways of working or negotiate exceptions to new structures.
Depression often appears as disengagement, low morale, or a sense of helplessness.
Acceptance is the point at which individuals begin to re-engage, adapt, and contribute to the new vision.
Crucially, people move through these stages at different speeds and some may get stuck. A long-serving officer might remain in denial while newer staff move quickly to acceptance. A community group might linger in anger while council leadership pushes forward with implementation. This emotional mismatch can create tension, misunderstanding, and resistance.
That’s why leaders must respond with empathy, not impatience. Change management isn’t just about delivering a new structure it’s about guiding people through transition. It requires emotional intelligence, active listening, and a willingness to slow down when needed.
As William Bridges reminds us:
“Endings occur more easily if people can take a bit of the past with them. You are trying to disengage people from it, not stamp it out like an infection.”
This quote is especially relevant in local government, where identity, history, and place matter deeply. When councils merge or buildings close, it’s not enough to simply announce the change. Leaders must help people honour what’s ending, carry forward what’s meaningful, and find their place in what’s next. Using the Kübler-Ross model as a lens allows us to anticipate emotional responses, tailor our support, and build change programmes that are not only operationally sound but emotionally sustainable.

A Call to Action for Local Government Leaders
If we want our change programmes to succeed whether it’s Local Government Reorganisation (LGR), estate rationalisation, or leadership renewal we must start by acknowledging the emotional journey. Change is not just a technical exercise; it’s a human experience. And the success of any transformation depends not only on the strength of the strategy, but on the emotional readiness of the people who will deliver it.
This means:
Planning for transition, not just implementation: Implementation focuses on tasks and timelines. Transition focuses on people. Leaders must build in time and space for emotional adjustment, not just operational delivery. This includes preparing teams for what’s ending, what’s changing, and what’s beginning.
Creating rituals of closure, not just announcements: A memo or press release is not enough. Closure requires intentional acts farewell events, legacy storytelling, symbolic gestures that help people process loss and honour what came before. These rituals give meaning to the moment and dignity to the past.
Listening to resistance, not dismissing it: Resistance is often a signal that something important is being lost or misunderstood. Rather than pushing back, leaders should lean in ask questions, invite dialogue, and explore the emotional roots of resistance. This builds trust and surfaces insights that can strengthen the change process.
Honouring the past, while building the future: Change doesn’t require erasing history. In fact, the most successful transitions are those that carry forward the values, stories, and strengths of the past into the new chapter. Leaders must help staff and communities see continuity, not just disruption.
Because when we skip the goodbye, we jeopardise the hello.
We risk launching programmes that look good on paper but falter in practice. We risk losing the engagement, energy, and goodwill of the very people we need to make change happen. And we risk creating cultures of quiet grief where staff carry unspoken losses that weigh down innovation, collaboration, and progress.
Local government leaders have a unique opportunity to model emotionally intelligent change. To show that transformation can be both strategic and compassionate. To prove that acknowledging grief is not a weakness but a strength. So let’s lead with empathy. Let’s make space for goodbye. And let’s build futures that honour where we’ve come from, while inspiring where we’re going.



