You might be holding tight to your job these days, checking your email before bed, worrying whether your role is safe, wondering when the next shoe will drop. Meanwhile, up at the top of the corporate pyramid, the folks with “CEO” on their door? They’re doing the opposite. They’re stepping away. They’re trading seats. They’re not hugging their jobs the way rank-and-file employees are. And that gap between the people who can leave and the people who feel they must stay says a lot about power, risk and workplace stability right now.
Here’s what’s happening: According to research highlighted by Challenger, Gray & Christmas, about 1,650 CEOs at U.S. companies had departed by late September 2025 already matching or exceeding the highest levels on record. These are people who don’t feel boxed in. Some leave voluntarily, some are pushed, but many walk out to cushioned packages, options, strong networks. They have choices. They can make a move.
Contrast that with employees in many firms who feel stuck. A wave of what HR people are calling “job-hugging” describes a workforce reluctant to leave their roles not out of ambition, but out of fear. Up to 75 % of workers say they plan on staying put for at least a couple of years. The logic for many is simple: The economy looks uncertain. AI looms. Changing jobs feels riskier than staying. So they hug their roles, rather than hop to the next thing.
So what does this tell us? First, the job stability equation is wildly different depending on where you sit in the org chart. For a CEO: yes the job comes with enormous pressure, public scrutiny and responsibility but also a giant safety net. Big packages, board relationships, and exit deals cushion the fall. For many workers: your daily paycheck, your benefits, your future hinge on staying. Leaving means risk. So they stay.
Second, this divergence affects morale, engagement and organisational dynamics. If executives are fine stepping out, but workers feel trapped, you get trust erosion. Workers may think: “If they don’t feel locked in, why do we?” That gap between leader flexibility and worker constraint can create a sense of imbalance. Researchers at Johns Hopkins Carey Business School found this year that senior leaders report greater well-being than employees a reversal of what was seen earlier in the pandemic. That matters.
Third, it changes how we think about commitment, loyalty and mobility. Once upon a time, staying at a job a long time might have signalled deep loyalty or deep fit. Now, staying might just mean you can’t move. And CEOs leaving might not mean they’re restless it might mean they’re free. It’s a shift in the cues we read about careers.
For you, as someone in the middle of the workforce: what can you take away from this? One: recognise your leverage. Staying in a role might feel safe but ask yourself, is it safe enough for your career? Two: understand the difference between forced stability and chosen mobility. If you stay because you’re afraid, that’s different than staying because you’re growing. And three: if you’re higher up the chain or aspire to be, note the upside of flexibility. Career mobility at the top isn’t just about jumping to something better it’s about being in a position where you can jump if needed.
Finally: organisations should pay attention. Low turnover looks good on the surface, but if it hides fear and disengagement, that’s a ticking problem. If employees stay because they feel trapped rather than inspired, your innovation pipeline, your creativity, your long-term health get hurt.
In short, if it feels like you’re hugging your job while your CEO is already eyeing the exit, you’re not imagining it. That contrast is real, rising, and worth our attention. Because the symbols you see who walks out, who stays in, who feels powerful, who feels powerless they reflect more than individual careers. They reflect the workplace economy of today.
