It was a late evening when my inbox pinged with a new email. I was about to call it a day, but the subject line caught my attention: “Urgent: Termination Request.” The email was from our client, a fast-paced tech company based in the U.S. The client wanted to terminate a senior Indian employee due to organizational restructuring and had requested my presence on a call scheduled for the next morning to communicate the decision.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I picked up the phone and dialed the client’s number. The call connected, and I could sense from the client’s tone that he wanted to wrap this up quickly.

“Why the urgency?” I asked.

“Well,” he replied, “we’ve restructured, and his position is now redundant. I just fired his boss and colleague over here in the States. This is no different.”

I took a deep breath and explained, “In India, we have a notice period clause in our employment contracts. We can’t just terminate someone without observing that. It’s legally and culturally significant.”

The client seemed puzzled. “But why would we keep someone on the payroll if we don’t need them anymore? That’s just extra cost. Over here, it’s pretty straightforward. It’s a business decision, not personal.”

I paused, choosing my words carefully. “I understand where you’re coming from, but this isn’t just about money. Termination has a different connotation in India. It’s not seen as a routine business decision. It’s often perceived as a severe measure, reserved for cases of poor performance or misconduct. Plus, it impacts the individual’s reputation and stability.”

Reluctantly, the client agreed to adhere to the notice period, albeit with some frustration. “Fine, but let’s at least tell him tomorrow and offer pay in lieu of notice so we can expedite this process.”

The next morning, we joined the call. The senior employee from the Indian team was on the line, having no clue what was coming. The client was direct and to the point, as was his style. He thanked the employee for his contributions, stated that due to organizational restructuring, his role was no longer required, and that his employment would be terminated. It was quick, efficient, and by Western standards, handled with professionalism.

But I could see the shock on the employee’s face, even over the video call. His eyes widened, and he blinked rapidly, trying to process what had just been said. In India, job security is deeply valued, not just by the employee but by their family and society. Termination without cause feels like a personal failing, a stigma that lingers. It’s not just about losing a job; it’s about losing face and stability.

The employee stammered a thank you and left the call. I could imagine the thoughts racing through his mind: “Why me? What did I do wrong? I’ve been performing well.”

After the call, I took it upon myself to reach out to him. I explained the situation again, emphasizing that it wasn’t a reflection of his performance but purely a business decision driven by restructuring. I could tell he was still in shock, trying to grasp why he wasn’t offered a chance to transition into another role or reskill for a different position within the company. This was the norm he knew; this was what he expected.

Later, I spoke with the client to provide some insight into the employee’s reaction. “In India,” I said, “termination is rare and usually comes with severe implications. It’s not just about the individual; it’s about their family and social standing. The suddenness and finality can be a shock, not just professionally but personally.”

The client was thoughtful for a moment. “I see. It’s hard to understand why they take it so personally. Over here, people move jobs all the time. It’s just business.”

“True,” I acknowledged, “but in India, a job is more than just a job. It’s a source of pride, security, and identity. When a job is lost, it’s not just the individual who feels it; the entire family feels it. That’s why even the government takes employee protection so seriously.”

As we wrapped up our conversation, I realized that these cultural differences, while challenging, offered an opportunity. An opportunity to bridge the understanding between two different worlds. As EOR service providers, we are not just managing teams and payrolls; we are managing relationships, expectations, and cultures. It’s a delicate balance but one that, when handled with empathy and clarity, can lead to stronger, more cohesive teams.