Loss of Control Drives Quiet Quitting, Study Finds

When you feel replaceable, investing feels futile.
The study found that perceived loss of control during uncertainty leads employees to quiet quit through two channels: feeling easily replaceable and losing emotional commitment to their employer.
Mark

So the study is saying that quiet quitting isn't really about people being lazy or disengaged in the moment—it's about something that happened to their sense of control during the pandemic?

Mimi

Exactly. The researchers found that when people feel they've lost control over their circumstances—which the pandemic definitely did for a lot of people—they respond by pulling back at work. But it's not random pulling back. It's strategic. They still do their job, but they stop volunteering for extra things.

Luke

I want to be careful here though. The study surveyed 1,400 people about their perception of control and their work habits. That's self-reported data. We're not seeing actual workplace metrics—like, did productivity actually drop, or are people just saying they work less? Those are different things.

Mimi

That's fair. But the researchers are pretty clear that quiet quitting isn't the same as not doing your job. You're still meeting expectations. You're just not exceeding them.

Mark

And they found two specific reasons why this happens—feeling replaceable and not caring as much about the company. Is that saying people stopped being loyal to their employers?

Mimi

Not exactly stopped. It's more that when you feel like you could be replaced tomorrow, and when you don't feel like the organization values you, it's harder to feel emotionally connected to it. That connection—what they call affective commitment—naturally weakens.

Luke

But here's what I'm wondering: did the pandemic cause people to feel replaceable, or did it just expose something that was already true? Like, were people always replaceable, and the pandemic just made them realize it?

Mimi

That's a really good question, and I don't think the study answers it directly. They're saying the pandemic created a shock to people's sense of control. Whether that shock revealed reality or created a new reality—that's still open.

Mark

So what's the fix? Can managers actually reverse this?

Mimi

According to the researchers, yes. If you can make people feel like they have a voice, like their work matters, like they're not just interchangeable parts—that reduces quiet quitting. It's about autonomy and recognition.

Luke

But that requires managers to actually change how they operate. And the study doesn't measure whether those interventions actually work. It's a hypothesis based on the theory, not tested yet.

Mark

So we know the problem and we have a theory about the solution, but we don't know if the solution works?

Mimi

Right. The researchers are clear that this is an area for future research. The relationship is complex, and the exact mechanisms still need investigation.

Luke

Which is honest of them. A lot of studies would just declare victory and move on.

  • A post-pandemic surge in quiet quitting alarmed researchers who noticed the phenomenon flooding social media and spreading across industries, prompting two Stevens Institute professors to ask what had fundamentally changed.
  • Their study of roughly 1,400 participants confirmed that the pandemic functioned as a mass erosion of personal agency — leaving workers with a pervasive sense that their choices and contributions no longer mattered.
  • The behavior operates through two distinct psychological channels: employees begin to feel easily replaceable, and their emotional bond to their employer quietly dissolves, making extra effort feel like an unreciprocated gift.
  • Quiet quitting is not collapse or indifference — workers are still meeting their obligations — but it represents a deliberate withdrawal of discretionary investment, a boundary drawn where trust has worn thin.
  • The path forward, researchers argue, runs through restored autonomy: involving employees in decisions, connecting their tasks to larger purpose, and offering small but genuine signals that their presence is irreplaceable.

In the uncertain aftermath of a global pandemic, millions of workers quietly redrew the boundaries of their labor — not out of laziness, but out of a diminished sense that their effort could shape their circumstances. Researchers at Stevens Institute of Technology have traced this phenomenon, known as quiet quitting, to a measurable erosion of perceived control: when people feel replaceable and disconnected from their organizations, they stop investing beyond what is contractually required. The study, published in Human Resource Management in 2025, suggests that what looks like disengagement is often a rational response to powerlessness — and that restoring genuine autonomy and belonging may be the only meaningful remedy.

Somewhere between staying and leaving, there is a third option: showing up and doing exactly what the contract requires — nothing more. This is quiet quitting, and while it has always existed, something made it surge visibly in the years after the pandemic. Assistant Professors Justine Herve and Hyewon Oh of Stevens Institute of Technology noticed the hashtags, the conversations, the widespread naming of a phenomenon that had previously gone unlabeled, and decided to investigate why it had returned with such force.

They surveyed roughly 1,400 participants about their sense of control over their own lives and circumstances, hypothesizing that the pandemic's cascading uncertainties — lockdowns, job loss, economic disruption — had eroded people's belief that their actions could influence outcomes. The data confirmed it. Their findings, published in Human Resource Management in June 2025, drew a clear line between perceived loss of control and the decision to retreat to contractual minimums.

Crucially, the researchers distinguish quiet quitting from simple disengagement. These employees are still performing their duties — they have simply stopped volunteering extra hours, extra effort, extra investment. The mechanism runs through two psychological channels: a heightened sense of being replaceable, and a weakening emotional attachment to the organization. When workers feel interchangeable and disconnected from their employer's mission, the calculus of effort shifts.

The study does not frame this as a moral failure. It is, the researchers argue, a rational response to powerlessness. And if powerlessness is the cause, then punishment or exhortation cannot be the cure. What restores engagement, Oh explains, is restoring agency — giving employees a genuine voice in decisions, connecting their specific work to larger organizational goals, and offering authentic signals that their contributions are seen and valued. The fix, Herve and Oh conclude, is not a perk or a policy. It is the slow, deliberate work of rebuilding the belief that effort matters.

Somewhere between staying and leaving, there's a third option: showing up and doing exactly what the job description says, nothing more. No extra hours. No volunteer projects. No going the extra mile. This is quiet quitting, and it's not new—but something shifted after the pandemic ended, and two researchers at Stevens Institute of Technology wanted to know what.

Assistant Professor Justine Herve, who studies labor economics, and Assistant Professor Hyewon Oh, whose work centers on consumer well-being, noticed the phenomenon flooding social media. The hashtags were everywhere. The conversation was everywhere. But the resurgence puzzled them. Quiet quitting had always existed as a workplace reality, usually blamed on burnout or lack of purpose. What made it suddenly visible, suddenly named, suddenly widespread in the years after 2020? "We were really puzzled by that resurgence and trying to understand what happened during the pandemic that caused this phenomenon to come back," Herve recalls. Oh, approaching the question from a consumer psychology angle, wondered if something deeper than simple disengagement was at play. The two decided to investigate together.

They recruited roughly 1,400 participants through an online survey platform and asked them about their sense of control over their own lives and circumstances. The hypothesis was straightforward: periods of uncertainty—the kind the pandemic created in abundance—erode people's feeling that they can influence what happens to them. When that sense of control diminishes, the theory went, people retreat. They stop investing extra effort in work because investing feels futile. The data confirmed it. Their findings, published in the journal Human Resource Management in June 2025 under the title "Quiet Quitting in Times of Uncertainty: Definition and Relationship with Perceived Control," showed a clear link between perceived loss of control and the decision to do only what's contractually required.

But the mechanism wasn't simple disengagement. Herve is careful to distinguish quiet quitting from checked-out employees who don't care about their work at all. "Quiet quitting means that employees are still doing what's expected of them, they are still performing their duties," she explains. "They are just not going the extra mile, not taking on extra tasks, not devoting more time to their work beyond the required hours." It's a deliberate boundary, not a collapse. The researchers found two psychological channels through which loss of control translates into this behavior: employees begin to feel easily replaceable, and their emotional attachment to their employer weakens. When you feel like you could be swapped out for someone else at any moment, and when you don't feel connected to the organization's mission or values, the calculus changes. Why invest yourself in something that doesn't invest in you?

The pandemic, Herve notes, was "an aggregate shock to one's perception of control." Lockdowns, illness, economic disruption, job loss, remote work upheaval—all of it created a pervasive sense that circumstances were beyond individual influence. As that uncertainty persisted into the post-pandemic years, so did the quiet quitting. The phenomenon wasn't confined to one industry or demographic; it reflected a broader psychological shift across the workforce.

What's notable is that the researchers don't frame quiet quitting as a moral failing or a sign of laziness. It's a rational response to feeling powerless. And if that's true, then the solution isn't punishment or exhortation—it's restoring the conditions that make people feel they have agency. Oh describes what this might look like in practice: "When people feel that they have a voice, some autonomy, and that their contributions matter, they're less likely to scale back to the bare minimum." This doesn't mean showering employees with perks or busywork. It means involving them in decisions that affect their work, showing them how their specific tasks connect to larger organizational goals, and giving them genuine ownership over meaningful projects. Small signals—that you're heard, that you matter, that you're not interchangeable—can shift the entire calculation.

Herve and Oh acknowledge that the relationship between perceived control and quiet quitting remains complex, with important questions still unanswered about the precise psychological pathways involved. But the core finding stands: uncertainty breeds a sense of powerlessness, powerlessness breeds quiet quitting, and restoring a sense of control and value can reverse it. For managers watching their teams retreat into contractual minimalism, the message is clear: the problem isn't laziness. It's that people have stopped believing their effort will be recognized or rewarded. The fix requires rebuilding that belief, one decision and one conversation at a time.

The pandemic represented an aggregate shock to one's perception of control. There was a lot of uncertainty.
— Assistant Professor Justine Herve
When people feel that they have a voice, some autonomy, and that their contributions matter, they're less likely to scale back to the bare minimum.
— Assistant Professor Hyewon Oh
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