Keeper test

The Keeper Test: Stop Pretending Your Company Is a Family

When challenged directly, half of the managers I coach or managed are quick to admit they have at least one employee they wouldn't rehire if given a chance. Yet most do absolutely nothing about it.

I'm tired of watching leaders delivering teary-eyed speeches about their "company family" right before they lay off 20% of their workforce. Let's cut the crap. Your company isn't a family — it's a professional sports team with championships to win and competitors to crush.

That's why I'm such a fierce advocate of the Keeper Test. It's brutally simple: "If this person wanted to leave for a competitor tomorrow, would you fight like hell to keep them?" If the answer is no, why are they still on your team?

Why Most Companies Get This Wrong

In countless leadership offsites, I've witnessed the same sad ritual.

Executives nod solemnly about "performance culture" while their teams are bloated with people they wouldn't rehire if given the chance. One fintech CEO I worked with missed three quarterly targets while keeping a VP who hadn't delivered anything meaningful in 18 months. When I asked why, he literally said, "Well, he's been here since the beginning."

That's not loyalty — it's cowardice disguised as compassion.

The truth? Keeping mediocre performers doesn't just hurt results — it actively poisons your entire culture.

But it gets worse: tolerating underperformance creates a downward spiral of mediocrity throughout your organization. I've watched it happen dozens of times.

When your team sees Bob consistently missing deadlines with no consequences or Sarah delivering subpar work while collecting the same paycheck as everyone else, they start asking themselves: "Why am I killing myself to deliver excellence when the average is clearly acceptable here?" That's how performance cultures die — not suddenly, but gradually, as your standards visibly erode.

At one software company I consulted, a senior architect hadn't written useful code in two years but remained untouchable due to his "institutional knowledge." Within six months after he moved to another team, I watched their engineering output drop by 30% as other engineers started working just as little as he did. Excellence is contagious, but mediocrity is a pandemic. Excellence is contagious, but mediocrity is a pandemic.

Your best people aren't quitting because of money — they're quitting because they're tired of carrying underperformers while watching management do nothing about it.

When To Use The Keeper Test

1. Your company is missing targets — If you're not hitting objectives, you need the best possible talent in every seat. Full stop.
2. You've hit a growth plateau — The team that got you to $1M ARR isn't necessarily the team that'll get you to $10M. Different stages require different skills.
3. Your industry is rapidly changing — Yesterday's star performers might be today's liability if they can't or won't adapt.
4. To continuously raise a bar — This is the one most companies miss. I've seen profitable, stable businesses gradually decline because they got comfortable. The best companies use the Keeper Test when they're winning, not just when they're losing. Why settle for good when you could have exceptional? Your competitors aren't standing still. The team that's meeting expectations today could be falling behind tomorrow without even realizing it.

The real magic happens when you consistently raise the bar for what "good enough" means. Every time you replace a B player with an A player, you elevate the standard for everyone else. I've watched teams transform when they realized mediocrity wouldn't cut it anymore. People either step up or step out. Either way, your organization wins.

At a successful B2B software company I advised, the CEO applied the Keeper Test even during their best quarters. He replaced a "perfectly adequate" marketing director with someone exceptional — and saw lead generation skyrocket. The guy was simply better and brought some fresh perspective. The cost of mediocrity isn't just failure; it's missed opportunity.