My best friend leaned across the small table between us, careful not to spill her drink. “I saw a police officer at the scene, and he was getting sick.” Her eyebrows lifted and her eyes widened. “When I drove past, I saw that the car was totally smashed. Like, it was in pieces.” She leaned back in her chair and shook her head. Around us, the bar continued to hum with loud voices and laughter.
I sat and stared at my drink without knowing what to say. Earlier that day when a co-worker told me about the accident, I had trouble believing it. I had just seen Justin the night before. He waved over his shoulder and grinned as he left the restaurant where we worked to spend the night partying with his older brother. At work the next day, my co-worker whispered to me what she knew: In the early hours of that morning, Justin’s brother was behind the wheel when their speeding car went out of control on a familiar-sounding road between an apartment complex and a tree-lined path. I realized that my best friend lived near where the accident happened and may have heard something, but I did not expect that her response would make the accident so real, vivid, and unforgettable.
A sense of inevitability and a feeling of regret soon replaced my, and my co-workers’, shock at Justin’s loss. Justin often talked about the extremes of his drinking and drug habits, and we all suspected that he was headed for some terrible fate. But no one — not a friend, co-worker, or our boss — offered Justin a word of caution.
***
Two years later, in a new city and another job, I walked down a bright hallway to the office. I found the door to our office closed and locked, which was odd for the middle of the day. I heard no movement inside and saw no light beneath the door. I pulled out my keys, unlocked the knob, and pushed the door open.
I took a step forward and froze. My boss was sitting in a chair, in the dark, with his arms crossed and head tipped down against his chest. His eyes were closed.
“Oh, sorry,” I stammered. I reached for my bag on a nearby shelf and retrieved something. “Sorry,” I said again. I stepped out and swung the door closed. My boss didn’t move or open an eye. The only sign that he noticed my presence was a slight smirk on his face.
A day or so prior to this moment, I walked into the office in the middle of a conversation between my boss and my co-worker Amy. “Well, I get dibs on the leftovers,” my boss said. Amy laughed, shook her head, and said okay. Despite Amy’s light-hearted mood, my boss didn’t look like he was joking. Later, I asked Amy what they were talking about.
“You know how I hurt my foot?” Amy asked. I nodded as she continued. “My doctor gave me Vicodin. We were talking about the pills I don’t use.”
My boss had young children at home, and I could have attributed his behavior in the dark office to toddler-induced sleep deprivation. But something about that explanation didn’t sit right with me. My boss had said that he broke his back in an accident several years prior, and was in near-constant pain ever since then.
The thought of whether I should say something to my boss about what I suspected never crossed my mind. In hindsight, however, I did worry about my boss’s behavior on the job after that, as he was increasingly short-tempered and forgetful. But I assumed that his agitated behavior and his possible substance-abuse problems were unrelated.
***
Five years later, at another company, I looked up from where I sat inside my low-walled cubicle and observed my co-worker Brandon, who was hunched over his desk. Though his hand lay on his computer mouse, it didn’t move. Brandon’s red shiny face and neck indicated that Brandon’s body was in alcohol-expel mode — a look I’d seen on heavy drinkers numerous times. Brandon appeared well-dressed and professional but I had worked with him long enough to know the truth behind this facade.
Brandon often didn’t show up for meetings, had trouble remembering what he had told someone, and appeared distracted most of the time. He was a skilled liar — a fact I discovered after talking with other co-workers about something Brandon had told them that I knew was untrue. As a result, the only thing I believed about Brandon was what he said about his drinking activities, since I could see the physical evidence.
Eventually, our scope of work decreased and we, as contractors, no longer needed as many people on the job. “It was a question of seniority,” my boss said of how she made the decision to let Brandon go, instead of me. “I told him I was sorry and that it was nothing that he did, and that you’ve been here longer than him. I said I would give him a reference if he needed one.” I was incredulous. Was Brandon’s ability to appear well-dressed while hungover all it took to hide his substance abuse problem from our boss? Or, if our boss did suspect Brandon of substance abuse, did she choose not to address it for fear of mishandling her approach?
How to Talk to a Co-worker about Their Substance Abuse
Few companies talk to their employees about substance abuse beyond what may be stated in an employee’s handbook, though the numbers regarding addiction in America are staggering. Over my career, my employee handbooks never said more than the basic don’t drink or do drugs while at work, and don’t be intoxicated while at work.
If I thought that a co-worker may be struggling with substance abuse, I would not stay silent. I would approach my co-worker with the intent to convey my compassion, and I would make sure our talk was private, and non-confrontational. I would focus first on what I liked about working with them. I would then provide a firm explanation of how their drinking or substance abuse impacted me, in a non-judgmental way. Finally, I would emphasize my willingness to be supportive of their efforts to curtail or quit their habit.
Prior to a conversation with my co-worker, I would review our employer’s policies concerning substance abuse. As I understand it, American workers who volunteer to enter a treatment program for substance abuse may qualify for job protection under the Family Medical Leave Act. I would also find out if my employer’s policies included an expectation for me to say something to our human resources manager if I suspected that a co-worker was dealing with substance abuse. I would communicate that information to my co-worker to help them make informed decisions.
Why Silence is the Worst Response to Substance Abuse in the Workplace
Millions of Americans struggle with substance abuse, which in my mind makes anyone who chronically over-indulges part of an epidemic, and worthy of that level of concern. Yes, it is a choice whether or not we have that first drink. But the prevalence of alcohol in American work-culture cannot be overstated, which (along with other factors) makes it difficult to choose not to drink. How many of us de-stress by “going for a few drinks” with our co-workers after work? How many of our holiday functions feature open bars? Plus, I just completed a stint at a shared-workspace office that featured numerous “hip” amenities, like free beers on tap.
If it’s a boss who has a substance-abuse problem, I recognize that we face a heightened chance of significant reprisal if we choose to say something. In truth, I would take time to think about my options if I was faced with that instance again. But I would know that whether or not I said something, my job would be negatively affected in the near future, as my boss’s drinking or drug habit took over more of his or her work life than they predicted.
Silence from someone’s friends, family, or co-workers in response to their drinking or drug problem is an enabling activity. In my experience, the silence of bystanders is an active choice that further enables the negative behavior, and compounds an already risky situation. Yet silence is the most common reaction. Therefore, HR managers should offer consistent resources and education within their companies — if not to avoid the potential loss in productivity caused by substance abuse, then in the interest of employee safety and well-being.
I wish Justin’s co-workers (myself included) had offered Justin compassionate communication regarding his substance abuse. I don’t know if Justin would have listened, or taken any of it to heart. But the interaction would have provided a starting point on which to build a foundation of speaking up for everyone involved. We need to break our silence on substance abuse in the workplace in a consistent and compassionate way.