Utilization is useful until you manage it
Goodhart's Law for consulting. I was the problem for years.

Here is the heresy: utilization, the metric consulting organizations worship above all others, becomes worthless the moment you treat it as something to manage.
Not "slightly less helpful" worthless. Actively lying to your face worthless.
I should know. I spent years as one of the worst utilization managers in the business. I pushed UTE relentlessly, hammered it into every team I ran, and got promoted for it. Every time. The system rewarded me for behavior I now understand was corrosive, and I collected those rewards with both hands. So when I tell you utilization management is organizational malpractice, understand that I'm not some consultant-whisperer who always had this figured out. I was the problem. I rode that incentive system all the way up, and I'm writing this because I finally get what it actually cost the people around me.
The tragedy is that utilization actually starts out as a great tool. There is a clean line between utilization as an indicator and utilization as a target. As an indicator, it tells you something real. How your people spend their time, where capacity sits, whether demand matches staffing. Good diagnostic tool. As a target, it tells you nothing. Because the moment you push it down through the organization, from regional manager to sub-manager to frontline staff, you stop getting truth. You get performance. People learn what you measure, and they deliver exactly that, at the expense of everything you actually care about.
The Diagnostic Lens
Utilization treated honestly is one of the most revealing metrics in a consulting business. It's a window into capacity, demand, and how people are actually spending their time. Not how you hope. Not how they reported it last quarter. Right now.
It can show you a team with more capacity than work. A group that's buried. People spending serious time on non-project activities that might be perfectly appropriate or might mean priorities have drifted. Whether the work you won last quarter actually turned into the workload you expected.
All valuable. All useful for asking sharper questions.
None of it works if the number is being managed. The moment someone's performance review or job security gets tied to hitting a utilization number, the information degrades. People stop reporting honestly. They move time around. They perform for the metric instead of telling you what's going on.
An indicator you manage is an indicator you corrupt. And a corrupted indicator is worse than nothing, because it gives you confidence in a picture that isn't real anymore.
Two Causes, and Only Two
When people aren't billing, strip away the noise. You are looking at one of two realities:
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The work exists, but time is going elsewhere. If it's going to BD, mentoring, capability building, great. You made a leadership choice. Own it. If they're just drifting? That's a management problem, not a utilization problem. Have the conversation about priorities. Leave the timesheet out of it.
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The organization lacks work. Demand didn't show up. The pipeline is dust. This is the one everyone hates to say out loud, because it leads straight to conversations about staffing levels and terminations. So managers overstate the pipeline, say the work is just around the corner, and pray.
Both are real. Both deserve direct responses. They are fundamentally different problems, and the moment you collapse them into a single utilization target, you lose the ability to tell them apart.
The Predictable Collapse
Tell people to get their utilization up, and they will. People aren't stupid. The question is what it costs you.
I'll tell you what it cost me. I once sat in a project review and watched a PM explain why a project that should have been at 40% margin was sitting at 22%. The hours didn't make sense. Too many people charging too much time for the scope. I knew exactly what had happened because I'd created the conditions for it. I had spent months hammering utilization into that team. They responded like rational humans trapped in a bad system: they dumped hours onto every project that would hold them. The utilization report looked fantastic. The margin report was a bloodbath.
And I was pissed at the PM. That's the part that still bothers me. I sat there and grilled this person about project controls when the real problem was that I'd built a system where the only way to feel safe was to be chargeable, and the only place to charge was projects that were already fully staffed. The PM didn't fail. They did exactly what I'd trained them to do. I just didn't like looking at the receipt.
That is what utilization pressure does. It doesn't create productivity. It actively destroys the financial health of the projects it touches. Time gets pushed where it doesn't belong. Margins erode. Quality suffers because people are splitting attention between doing good work and making the timesheet look right. And none of it fixes the root cause. If the problem was lack of work, the lack of work is still there, just hiding behind cleaner timesheets. If the problem was priorities, those haven't been addressed. People just learned to bury the evidence.
What you end up building isn't a healthy business. It's a Potemkin village made of timesheets.
And here's my favorite part. The fastest way to increase utilization for any group? Fire two people at random. Same work, smaller base. Utilization jumps. Revenue per head improves. Dashboard looks great. No new work created. No client won. Demand didn't change by a dollar. But the metric moved.
The Impossible Ask
Senior leaders love to pretend there are no trade-offs. They stand up and say, with a straight face, that they want all of it. Hit your utilization targets. Grow revenue. Protect margins. Develop people. Build the pipeline.
They say it like it's a vision. It's not a vision. It's an abdication. It's pushing unresolved tension down the org chart and calling it leadership.
Every manager in that room knows which metric actually matters. They know which one triggers the uncomfortable phone call, the raised eyebrow from the regional leader. It's not growth. Nobody gets their ass kicked in the short term for failing to grow. It's not mentoring. It's utilization. When that dips, the questions start. Not curious questions. Pointed ones.
So managers protect utilization. They pull people off BD pursuits to pad chargeability on projects that don't need them. They stop investing in anything that doesn't show up on a timesheet.
I did this for years. I was the guy who pulled people off business development to charge time against projects that were already staffed. I pushed UTE at the direct expense of project margin, consistently, and was rewarded for it every single time. My utilization numbers looked great. My margins did not. But nobody was calling me about margins.
The senior leaders who create this dynamic then stare at stalled growth, thinning pipelines, and no bench strength, wondering what happened. What happened is they told their managers there were no trade-offs, and their managers figured out which trade-off would actually get them fired.
Fear Creates the Swamp
Senior manager looks at the numbers, calls a regional leader. Regional leader calls a manager. Manager turns to their staff and says the only thing they know how to say: you need to get your utilization up.
Fear enters the system. Fear doesn't produce good behavior. It produces survival behavior.
The best people, the ones with options, make a quiet calculation. They don't need this. They didn't sign up to justify their existence on a timesheet. So they leave. Not loudly. They just stop being there one day.
I lost good people this way. People I respected. People who made the teams around them better. They didn't leave because the work was bad or the money was wrong. They left because I made them feel like a slow month meant something was wrong with them. Some of those relationships never recovered. There are people I still can't make eye contact with at conferences. I earned that.
The people who stay learn different lessons. They learn not to collaborate, because helping someone else doesn't hit their timesheet. They hoard work. They resist bringing on new staff because every new person dilutes the number. They avoid training and mentoring because those hours aren't billable.
Nobody designed this culture on purpose. It's just what utilization management produces by default.
And the damage doesn't stop when people move up. I know owners, people who built companies and answer to nobody, who are still terrified of utilization. Still flinching when the number dips. Still acting like someone's going to drag them into an office. The system taught them that utilization is where you get hurt, and even after every rational reason for that fear is gone, the fear stays. It rewires how people think about their own worth, and that rewiring can last a career.
Own the Decision
If utilization is low, something is going on. The metric did its job as an indicator. The failure is what leaders do next.
If it's low because the organization lacks work, say so. Plainly. Then make a leadership decision. Reduce staff to match demand? Hold the team through the trough because you see something coming? Both carry risk. Both are defensible. But they're strategic decisions for senior leaders, not problems to dump on managers who can't conjure demand.
If you choose to hold staff through a dry spell, accept what comes. Accept the ugly utilization number. Own it. Don't hold headcount steady and then punish managers for the number your own decision guaranteed.
That's cowardice with a spreadsheet.
If it's low because people are focused on the wrong things, look at where time is actually going. If it's BD and mentoring, own it. If effort is genuinely misaligned, redirect it. Have the conversation. That's management.
The Vow
I'm done.
I spent years doing this wrong. I pushed utilization at people who trusted me to lead them. I damaged project margins chasing chargeability. I made people feel small for having a slow month when the slow month was a demand problem I should have owned. I watched good people leave and told myself it was the market, or their attitude, or anything except the obvious: I had made their jobs miserable in service of a number that made me look good.
And it did make me look good. I got promoted. The system worked exactly as designed. It just took me too long to understand that "it worked for me" and "it was right" are two completely different statements.
So here's where I land.
I will never talk about utilization with frontline staff. Not in a check-in. Not in a review. Not in a hallway conversation designed to sound casual but meant to apply pressure. If there's a lack of work, I'll say so, and I'll make the hard calls that follow. If people are focused on the wrong things, I'll have the direct conversation about priorities. These are leadership problems with leadership answers. None of them involve telling a project engineer to get their chargeability up and walking away like something useful just happened.
Utilization belongs on the dashboard. It belongs in leadership discussions alongside pipeline health, margin, and capacity planning. One signal among several.
It does not belong in the space between a manager and the people who trust them. The moment it enters that space, it stops being a signal and becomes a threat. And threats don't build anything. They produce compliance, fear, and a quiet exodus of the people you can least afford to lose.
If you're running a consulting firm, or a team, or a region, you have a choice. You can build something real: grow demand, invest in people, make strategic bets on capacity, and accept that the utilization number will look ugly sometimes because you're building for the long game. Or you can manage the dashboard. Squeeze the metric. Reward contraction. Look productive this quarter and hollow out the thing you're supposed to be building.
I made that second choice for a long time. I was good at it. I got paid for it. And the people around me paid for it more.
I'm done causing it.