Promoting Your Best Performer Is Not a Succession Plan: The Hidden Cost of the Player-Manager Trap
Photo: U.S. Army USACE-MED by Shannon Moeck, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Walk into any mid-sized British firm and you will find them: the outstanding account manager now juggling a client book and a team of six. The brilliant engineer who also runs the weekly stand-up, signs off holiday requests and carries the largest project load in the department. The top-billing salesperson who was handed a territory and three direct reports because, well, they earned it.
We call them player-managers, and on paper the arrangement looks efficient. In practice, it is one of the most quietly expensive habits in UK business.
The Arithmetic Never Adds Up
The player-manager model asks one person to do two jobs at full intensity. Something has to give, and it is almost always the management half — because management is the half with no immediate, measurable consequence when it slips.
A missed client deadline gets noticed within hours. A team member who has gone three months without a proper one-to-one may not surface as a problem until they resign. By then, the recruitment fees, the lost institutional knowledge and the dip in team morale have all been absorbed silently into the business.
Research from the Chartered Management Institute has consistently suggested that a majority of UK managers receive no formal training at all — they are promoted on the strength of their individual performance and left to work the rest out. For a player-manager, the problem is compounded: they do not merely lack training, they lack time. When the quarterly numbers press in, the coaching conversation is the first thing postponed and the last thing rescheduled.
The result is a peculiar kind of organisational damage. The team gets a manager who is present in name only. The individual performer gets a workload that guarantees eventual burnout or a return to an individual role — often interpreted, unfairly, as failure. And the business gets the worst of both worlds: a diluted performer and an under-led team.
Why We Keep Doing It
The player-manager trap persists because it flatters a comforting myth: that leadership is simply individual excellence, scaled up. If someone is brilliant at the work, the logic runs, they will be brilliant at leading others who do the work.
It is the same instinct that makes a football club hand the captaincy to its top scorer. Sometimes it works. More often, the skills simply do not transfer. Selling and coaching sellers are different crafts. Writing excellent code and running a development team are different crafts. The first rewards personal drive; the second rewards patience, delegation, feedback and the willingness to let others do the thing you are best at — often more slowly, and sometimes worse, at least at first.
There is a status problem, too. In many British workplaces, management remains the only route to seniority and pay progression. We promote our best performers into management not because they want to lead, but because it is the only way to reward them. Then we wonder why they manage reluctantly, badly, or both.
A Framework for Deciding Who Should Actually Lead
Before promoting anyone into a team role — particularly a hybrid one — four questions are worth answering honestly.
1. Do they want the job, or the title? Ask directly, and make it safe to say no. Some of your best performers have no appetite for people management, and that is a legitimate career preference, not a lack of ambition. Businesses that offer parallel progression routes — technical, specialist and managerial — keep both groups motivated.
2. What evidence exists beyond individual performance? Look for informal leadership already happening. Who do colleagues go to for help? Who picks up the struggling new starter? Who gives away credit and absorbs blame? These behaviours predict management success far better than a sales league table.
3. What comes off their plate? If the answer is nothing, you are not creating a manager; you are creating a bottleneck. A player-manager role can work — but only with genuinely reduced individual targets, protected time for one-to-ones, and a hard limit on the individual workload. If the business cannot afford to reduce their targets, it cannot afford the promotion.
4. What training and support follows in the first ninety days? A one-off induction course is not support. New managers need structured onboarding into the role itself: coaching, peer networks, clear expectations about how they spend their week, and a senior sponsor who checks in regularly. Treat the first quarter in post as seriously as you would a first quarter in a new client relationship.
Management Is a Craft, Not a Consolation Prize
Underneath all of this sits a cultural shift that British business has been slow to make: treating management as a discipline worth mastering, rather than a prize for being good at something else.
The best organisations in the UK increasingly do exactly that. They recruit into management roles on the basis of demonstrated people skills. They invest in structured development — from accredited programmes to internal mentoring — and they measure managers on how well their people grow, not only on output. Crucially, they make it possible to be highly paid and highly respected without managing anyone at all.
The alternative is what we see too often in the workshops we run: capable, exhausted player-managers who confess, quietly, that they are drowning. Their teams are under-coached. Their own numbers are slipping. Everyone is working harder to achieve less.
Strong teams are not built by promoting your best individual and hoping. They are built by treating leadership as skilled work — selecting for it deliberately, training for it properly, and giving it the time it deserves. Your best salesperson has already earned your investment. The question is whether you invest in the salesperson they are, or the manager they might become.
Choose deliberately. Resource properly. Your teams — and your balance sheet — will feel the difference.