They've been in the role for five years. Maybe seven. They know every inch of the job — the systems, the shortcuts, the people, the history. Nothing breaks on their watch. Nothing surprises them. But nothing's new, either.
They show up, do the work, and leave. And you've quietly organized your expectations around that fact for so long that you've stopped noticing it was a choice.
This is the coasting problem. The reason it goes unaddressed is that it looks like reliability. There's no incident to point to. No failure. Just a person who's been running at 75% of their capacity for years, and a manager who has unconsciously made peace with it.
Gallup found that only 30% of employees believe someone at work actively encourages their development. Tenure makes this worse, not better. New hires get attention because they're a visible project. Long-tenure employees become part of the furniture. Managers stop asking what's next for them because they stop seeming like they need anything.
That's the reframe: this person didn't stop growing because they ran out of capacity. They stopped growing because you stopped requiring it.
So what do you actually do?
Start by naming the observation, not the failure. This isn't a performance conversation and it shouldn't sound like one. Try: "I've noticed your work has stayed in pretty familiar territory for a while. I haven't pushed you on that, but I want to start." You're not accusing them of something. You're describing what you've let happen and signaling it's changing.
Next, separate growth from promotion. The moment you say "development," most long-tenure employees hear "you want to promote me" or, worse, "you think I should want to leave." Be explicit that this isn't about titles. It's about expanding what they can do and how they contribute. Some of the most useful growth conversations don't touch compensation or role changes at all — they're about capability and what it would mean to be genuinely excellent instead of consistently adequate.
Then give them something specific to grow toward. Vague goals die on contact. "Work on your communication skills" is not a development plan. "Lead the Q3 kickoff meeting and own the agenda from first draft to delivery" is. So is: "be the point person on the new hire's onboarding for the first 30 days." Growth needs an object — a thing they haven't done before, with a visible outcome you can both assess.
That last part matters. You have to actually assess it. If you assign something new and never revisit it, you've confirmed that growth is decorative.
One honest caveat: some people, after several years in a role, have made a deliberate choice to prioritize stability over advancement. That's a valid position. But you need to understand whether this person consciously chose steady or simply drifted there because no one pushed back. The conversation will tell you. "What would you want to be doing more of, or differently, in two years?" lands differently when the answer is "I don't know" versus "honestly, I'm happy where I am."
Both are information. Only one of them is a problem.
Bottom line: The person stopped growing the day you stopped noticing they weren't. The fix doesn't start with them.