Nobody Resigns Anymore. They Transition Out of Their Current Chapter.

A resignation used to contain a little weather. You could hear strain, failure, fatigue, or plain disagreement somewhere in the sentence. Now the public exit is often polished beyond usefulness and recoded as a transition into the author's next chapter of intentional leadership.

This language protects everyone in the room, which is precisely why it also tells readers almost nothing. Conflict is outsourced to the whitespace. Responsibility is wrapped in gratitude and escorted quietly off the premises.

The result is not civility. It is blur. The public deserves language with enough grain left in it to indicate that a departure still means something happened.