Weaponised incompetence is rife at work. Here’s how to shut it down

I have a confession to make. For someone who loves to write, I also love to skim read. I expect people to hang off my every word. But I will absolutely not be doing that in return. Oh no, I will most definitely be skim reading.

And because I skim read everything, I tend to miss things. Numerous things, actually. But it’s OK because I’ve told my team about my weaknesses in this area. I openly own that my attention to detail is terrible.

It’s who I am. And now that I’ve expressed that openly, instead of it being my problem to solve, I’ve made it theirs. And this age-old move is weaponised incompetence at its finest.

People think weaponised incompetence is reserved for romantic relationships. The partner who “just doesn’t know how” to load the dishwasher properly so they’re never asked again. But it’s just as prevalent at work, and we’ve all been perpetrators and victims of it.

It’s the colleague who doesn’t know how to export that document to PDF and asks you to sort it out for them (just one time please and thank you).

It’s the manager who avoids conflict at all costs so they never have the hard conversation with their underperforming team member. Instead, they escalate it to HR. Months go by. The behaviour continues. The rest of the team quietly pick up the slack. But hey, they did warn you they’re bad at confrontation.

Awareness of our own incompetence is certainly better than blissful ignorance. But awareness alone is not enough.

Or, my personal favourite, the team member who is constantly rude to everyone but says, “It’s just my personality.” Well, thanks for the explanation, but your personality is not an excuse for being a jerk.

Weaponised incompetence is tricky to address. One of the reasons it’s difficult to talk about is because the person openly acknowledges their incompetence. They have a level of self-awareness about their weaknesses. And because they are aware of it, we’re more likely to tolerate the skill gap.

Of course, awareness of our own incompetence is certainly better than blissful ignorance. But awareness alone is not enough. It’s action and course correction that count, otherwise “I’m just not good at that stuff” becomes a hall pass for never getting better.

Weaponised incompetence is expensive. It’s the cumulative cost. The invisible admin. The emotional energy overcompensating for others. The hours spent fixing things someone else could have learned to do. So, what can you actually do about it?

First, separate genuine skill gaps from strategic helplessness. Not everyone who struggles is scheming. Some team members haven’t been trained, some are overwhelmed, and some are out of their depth but don’t know how to ask for help. The difference is effort. Are they trying to improve, or are they using self-awareness as an excuse?

If there’s no evidence of effort, it’s worth a reset conversation. You might say, “I’ve noticed you often hand this to me because you say you’re not good at it. I’m happy to show you how to do it, but I can’t keep owning it”.

That one sentence does a few important things. It names the pattern without judgment, and it puts the responsibility back where it belongs.

If you’re managing the person, get specific about expectations. Being “bad with detail” is not a personality trait. It’s a capability gap. And most capability gaps can be improved with systems, training or practice. Agree on what good enough looks like. Put guardrails in place. Review progress. Hold them to it.

If you’re dealing with a peer, it’s more about boundaries. Often, it takes more upfront energy to say no than it does to say yes and rescue them. It’s quicker to just do it yourself. But every time you rescue them, you reinforce the behaviour. Instead, respond with, “Have you had a go at it yet?” or “What have you tried?” It gently shifts the load back to them.

And if the weaponised incompetence is coming from someone more senior, that’s trickier but not impossible. Ask for clarity around role responsibilities. “Just so I understand, is this something you’d like me to take ownership of ongoing, or is this just a once off?” It forces a decision. It also makes the pattern visible without accusing anyone of being lazy.

But the worst part about all of this is that sometimes we’re the problem. It’s easy to spot weaponised incompetence in others. It’s much harder to notice when we’re the ones doing it.

I’ve joked for years about my attention to detail issues. And in doing so, I’ve subtly trained my team to compensate for me. So if you’re like me and guilty of something similar, there are two helpful questions to reflect on: am I aware of this gap, and am I actively working on it?

Workplaces require both accountability and ownership. We all have strengths. We all have struggles. The deal is that we own both. So next time someone says, “that’s just how I am,” resist the urge to fix it for them. Reset the expectation. Awareness is step one. Action is step two.

Oh, and by the way – you’ll be pleased to know I didn’t ask my team to proofread this article for me. I did it all by myself.

Shelley Johnson is founder of HR agency Boldside and hosts the podcast this is work.

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