How do I coach a high-performer with a bad attitude?

(Keep the results, fix the ripple, protect the team.)

I’ve managed a few “stars” who lit up the board and burned the room. You know the type: top numbers, fast output, deep craft — plus sarcasm in stand-ups, side-eye in huddles, and a steady drip of “if everyone were competent like me…” energy.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: high skill + low trust = net negative. You can’t outsource culture to the rest of the team while a single star corrodes it. The job is to keep the results and fix the ripple — or, if that fails, keep the team and lose the star. I’ve done both. I prefer the first path, but I don’t blink at the second.

Separate the work from the wake

I open with a calm, adult line that separates contribution from behavior:

“Your output is excellent. And your impact on the team is mixed. We’re going to keep the output and improve the impact.”

People can hold two truths. Start there.

Describe observable behavior, not personality

Don’t say “you’re negative.” Say:

• “In the last three huddles, you spoke over teammates twice.”

• “In code review, you used ‘obvious’ and ‘trivial’ to describe others’ work.”

• “In yesterday’s escalation, you joked that support ‘can’t read’.”

These are facts. You’ll get fewer debates when you stick to film, not feelings.

Define the social contract — explicitly

Teams run on invisible agreements. Make them visible. I use five:

1. Assume competence. No belittling, no eye-rolling.

2. Seek clarity, not victory. We debate; then we decide.

3. Disagree and commit. After a decision, we move together.

4. Coach in private, praise in public.

5. Protect the room. No one dominates airtime; no one gets steamrolled.

I’ll say: “This is our contract. You’re breaking #1 and #5. We’re going to fix that, starting today.”

Set behavior outcomes the same way you set delivery outcomes

If you can set a ship date, you can set a civility date. I frame it with AAA (Aim / Autonomy / Air cover):

• Aim: “Next four weeks: no interruptions in huddle; reviews use specific suggestions, not put-downs; raise concerns in the thread, not DMs.”

• Autonomy: “You choose the phrasing and where you ask clarifying questions.”

• Air cover: “I’ll enforce the huddle format and invite you in so you don’t have to fight for airtime.”

Measure it like work: track incidents, ask two peers for private pulse, do a mid-point check.

Give alternatives, not just “don’ts”

Script better moves:

• Instead of “this is obvious,” say, “I think we can simplify: what if we…”

• Instead of interrupting, jot a note and wait; I’ll call on you next.

• Instead of DM rants, post a one-paragraph concern with a suggested fix.

Role-play once. Yes, role-play. It’s five minutes. It works.

Protect the team while you coach the star

• I own the room. If they interrupt, I step in: “Hold that; Jordan’s finishing. You’re next.”

• I summarize decisions. Stars can’t weaponize ambiguity when the decision lives in writing.

• I spread spotlight. Two quieter voices go before the star in reviews for a few weeks.

You’ll feel the room exhale.

When it doesn’t change

Escalate calmly:

“We’ve seen progress on delivery; we haven’t seen progress on the contract. Over the next two weeks we need zero interruptions and constructive reviews. If not, we’ll explore a role change.”

Document. Offer a path. If it still fails, move them — or move them out. Don’t let one person rent the culture for free.

When it does change

Name it:

“You waited, you asked clarifying questions, you gave concrete alternatives. That raised the room. Keep that.”

Then give them a constructive outlet: mentor a strong junior, own a tough problem, present at the review. Replace status games with stewardship.

Bottom line: your job is to multiply the team, not just admire the star. Keep the results, fix the ripple, protect the room. That’s leadership.