Palgrave Studies in Governance, Leadership and Responsibility

Business
SIMON ROBINSON
The Practice
of Integrity in
Palgrave Studies in Governance,
Leadership and Responsibility

Series Editors

Simon Robinson
Leeds Business School
Leeds Beckett University
United Kingdom

Jim Parry
Charles University
Prague 1, Czech Republic

William Sun
Leeds Business School
Leeds Beckett University
United Kingdom
The fall-out from many high profile crises in governance and leadership
in recent decades, from banking to healthcare, continues to be felt around
the world. Major reports have questioned the values and behaviour, not
just of individual organizations but of professionals, industries and politi-
cal leadership. These reports raise questions about business corporations
and also public service institutions. In response this new series aims to
explore the broad principles of governance and leadership and how these
are embodied in different contexts, opening up the possibility of devel-
oping new theories and approaches that are fuelled by interdisciplinary
approaches. The purpose of the series is to highlight critical reflection and
empirical research which can enable dialogue across sectors, focusing on
theory, value and the practice of governance, leadership and responsibility.
Written from a global context, the series is unique in bringing leader-
ship and governance together. The King III report connects these two
fields by identifying leadership as one of the three principles of effective
governance however most courses in business schools have traditionally
treated these as separate subjects. Increasingly, and in particular with the
case of executive education, business schools are recognizing the need to
develop and produce responsible leaders. The series will therefore encour-
age critical exploration between these two areas and as such explore socio-
logical and philosophical perspectives.

More information about this series at

http://www.springer.com/series/15192
 Simon Robinson

The Practice of
Integrity in Business
Simon Robinson
Leeds Beckett University
United Kingdom

Palgrave Studies in Governance, Leadership and Responsibility

ISBN 978-1-137-51552-0 ISBN 978-1-137-51553-7 (eBook)
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-51553-7

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 This book is dedicated to the memory of my late father-in-law, John
Mckinnon. When I am asked to say what integrity looks like, I talk about
him. A GP in a Northern mining village, he had a passion for his family
and for his profession. He knew what he was talking about, and could give
a clear account of his purpose, whose worth he understood. As a
diagnostician he was second to none, not just because of high professional
competence, but also because he knew the people he cared for. He took
responsibility for them, not least in the tough hours of palliative care, and he
helped them to take responsibility for themselves.
 Preface

Integrity is one of those words that we all want to own because it says
something about ourselves and our organization. We are told that it is: an
essential aspect of individual employability (noting employer surveys); key
to professional identity (noting the self-perception of professional bod-
ies); and key to corporate operation (noting recent governance failures).
Most arguments focus on the importance of integrity in establishing and
maintaining trust between professions and clients, between corporations
and wider society and between leadership and organizations.
Despite its perceived importance, however, the meaning of integrity, and
precisely how it relates to trust, is less clear. How do we know we are ‘still
the good guys’? What does integrity look like? If I asked you now to think
of a person you know who ‘has’ integrity, could you describe the integrity
they have? What about your organization: does that ‘have’ integrity?
What I would like to do in this book is to stimulate your imagina-
tion as well as your thinking, on the basis that integrity is more than
just thinking about ethics. Hence, I will try, alongside reviews of the
philosophical and related debates, to focus on the practice of business,
and in particular leadership and governance. This will involve cases which
exemplify both the practice of integrity and its absence.
The clue to my argument is in the term practice. I argue that integrity
is not something you have but something that you practise, and that the
mark of integrity is how we practise responsibility. This tries to bring
vii
viii Preface

together two debates. The first is focused on philosophy, where debates

about integrity have focused on aspects of responsibility. I attempt to
draw that out in more detail and focus on three modes of responsibility,
anchored in identity, and on the creation of moral meaning in relation
to different aspects of the self and society. I argue that this demands the
practice of dialogue and narrative.
The second debate is about how business relates to the social and physical
environment, focused on views of corporate integrity which stress the com-
plexity of the social and physical environment. This extends integrity to some-
thing more proactive and creative, not simply standing up for something.
I offer a view of integrity which intentionally does not occupy the
moral high ground. First, it argues that moral meaning is brought to life
through engaging others in the development of dialogue and narrative.
The moral high ground prefers to dominate and impose, in some way,
moral meaning. Second, the idea of integrity cannot be owned exclu-
sively by ethicists. As an ethicist I will fight against the exclusion of the
ethical dimension. However, ethical meaning (and related virtues) stands
alongside the intellect (and related virtues), psychology (and related
interpersonal virtues and skills) and practice (informed by purpose and
related values). Thus it can be seen as central to health and well-being,
and to ongoing learning and development.
I also argue that integrity is not simply a strategic tool, with success
predicated on its practice. Integrity is focused on the truthful and reliable
re-presentation of the self or organization. As such, it is about who we
are. Integrity, then, is hard to mimic.
The first chapter sets out the philosophical debate about the mean-
ing of integrity. Focused on the case of Arthur Andersen, it will review
different philosophical views of integrity, including: the integrated self
(Frankfurt 1990, Solomon 2007); moral identity (Williams 1973);
adhering to bottom-line principles, or walking the talk (Halfon 1989);
strength of will and the act of judgement (Calhoun 1995); and as a virtue,
including epistemic virtue (Scherkoske 2013). Each of these perspectives
has problems, but each contributes something to a broader view which
sees integrity as connecting many different virtues and relationships. The
discussion then examines and critiques attempts to narrow the view of
integrity, from one based on economics and performance, to one which
 Preface ix

distinguishes different kinds of integrity. A final one focuses on an

Aristotelian view which links to identity, involving the truthful and reli-
able re-presentation of the self. It is argued that, whilst this is too narrow,
it opens up a complex dynamic: for integrity, focused on taking respon-
sibility; for ideas, values, purpose and practice; for framing an account of
meaning and practice in the self and the organization; and for the future.
These involve three interconnected modes of responsibility: attributabil-
ity, accountability to and responsibility for.
Beginning with the case of Alan Greenspan and related credit crisis
issues, the next chapter sets out the first mode of responsibility: attribut-
ability. This focuses on causation, expressed in effective decision-making
and the practice of critical agency and self-governance. Agency is analysed
in terms of critical relationship to: ideas (cognitive); values, especially
ethical values (affective); practice (somatic, based in time and space); the
social and physical environment (interactive and interconnected); worth
(not simply self-esteem but a sense of worth focused in the above holistic
interaction); and worldview. This stresses responsibility for the holistic
dimensions of the self: being true to the self in terms of the complex truth
about the self, and commitment to the self.
From responsibility for reflection on the whole person or organization
the chapter goes on to look at views of the self in relation to plurality,
based on the development of narrative and dialogue. Built on a social
constructionist view of identity, personal and organizational, this sug-
gests a view of integrity as dynamic and continuously developing. This
view is distinguished from negative responsibility, focused on culpability.
The third chapter sets out the meaning of accountability, arguing that
it is central to integrity. Focusing on the case of the Mid Staffs Hospital
Trust, it explores mutual accountability for meaning and practice and
plural accountability (including to colleagues, profession, client, institu-
tion and so on). This contrasts with the narrow, linear practice of account-
ability shown in Mid Staffs. If the first mode of responsibility is about
being true to the self, this second is about being true to others, hence
about being responsible for relationships. Breakdown of the practice of
this integrity is characterized as analogous to a breakdown of health.
This view of accountability is contrasted with the corporate capture of
accountability where one narrative is dominant. Narrow perspectives are
x Preface

then contrasted with the actual complexity of business relationships to

the social environment, inside and outside the organization. The chapter
finally focuses on the practice of dialogue in leadership, as the means
of engaging complexity and practising accountability, illustrated by an
example from Shakespeare, Henry V at Agincourt, and ends noting the
interconnection between the first two modes of responsibility.
The fourth chapter explores the third mode of responsibility: responsi-
bility for. The importance of this mode of responsibility is that it moves us
specifically into the ‘walk’, the taking action, of integrity. The Nestlé case
introduces positive responsibility, moving beyond accountability, into
wider positive responsibility for projects, people or place. Some the great
post-Holocaust thinkers, such as Arendt, Levinas, Bauman and Ricoeur,
argue from this for a sense of universal responsibility. Jonas takes this
further, arguing for a sense of ultimate accountability to and responsibil-
ity for future generations and the environment. The chapter explores that
responsibility in the light of the Nestlé case and how it informs a view
of integrity which involves: a sense of plural responsibility, for clients,
colleagues, profession, community and so on; the assumption of respon-
sibility in grey areas not assigned to roles, avoiding denial of responsi-
bility; further development of ethical identity through negotiation of
responsibility; the development of shared and mutual responsibility, as
distinct from shared interest; focus on positive creative action through
the increase in possibilities and pathways, further developing identity;
and the practice of justice and sustainability through shared responsi-
bility. The focus is on developing creativity, with the individual or cor-
poration always learning and looking to respond, and holding together
organizational sustainability and social and environmental sustainability.
All three interactive modes of responsibility focus on different ways
of developing and re-presenting identity, anchored, through the practice
of deliberation, dialogue and narrative, in different and shared values,
institutions and projects.
Chapter 5 then explores the relationship between integrity and the
virtues. It argues that integrity is not a virtue in the Aristotelian sense, but
involves, rather, a dynamic interactive complex of virtues. The practice of
these virtues enables the embodiment of the different modes of responsi-
bility. The chapter looks at the underlying virtues ethical theory, and then
 Preface xi

sets out some of the key virtues and how they relate to the three modes
of responsibility and from that to integrity, including: courage, patience,
temperance, humility, practical wisdom, care/respect, empathy, faithful-
ness/trust, justice, hope, eros and negative capability. This underpins the
argument that the practice of responsibility is what holds together the
different virtues.
Chapter 6 builds on the practice of accountability within the orga-
nization and beyond. It focuses on governance and bringing together a
shared view of values. In particular, it explores a key function of gover-
nance, determining the level of leaders’ remuneration. Recent governance
practice has supplied procedures for dealing with remuneration, not least
through the remuneration committee of the board and the use of more
independent board members. The chapter argues that this is not sufficient
for the practice of integrity, because it does not enable a thought-through
perspective on justice, and does not enable dialogue with stakeholders to
test such an account and develop it. It looks at some of the arguments
offered around justice and remuneration, none of which stands rigorous
testing, and argues for the development of procedural integrity through
setting out a compensation philosophy. The chapter then goes on to
examine the ways in which good governance is anchored in a culture of
integrity, enabling accountability at every level of the organization.
Chapter 7 builds on positive responsibility and explores proactive
integrity in more detail. In particular, it explores further the underpin-
ning thinking around the idea, including Fort’s view of Total Integrity
Management, and the key idea of the moral imagination, from Werhane
to Lederach. Lederach extends the moral imagination to focus on manag-
ing conflict, connecting to the ongoing work on leadership and complex-
ity and the integration of strategy, enterprise and integrity. In one sense
these ideas open up further the complexity of this area, exemplified by the
Niger Delta case. Hence, the chapter aims to show how the future, with
all its associated complexity, can be managed despite this: how proactive
integrity can be practised successfully. It illustrates this with examples
from business and peace-building, the development of responsibility in
the supply chain and the issue of human rights and business, focused on
modern slavery. The last of these involves critical questions about regula-
tion and governance which are ongoing.
xii Preface

The final chapter aims to summarize the view of integrity sketched out
in the book by focusing on key themes that have surfaced throughout. It
explores in more detail how integrity relates to trust, a connection most
writers on integrity take to be obvious. It argues that the connection is
built around the development of mature trust which connects to the dif-
ferent modes of responsibility. It then draws together different elements
of the dark side of integrity which have surfaced throughout the book—
corruption, counterfeit and confusion—noting their relationship. The
chapter concludes with a view of the nature of business, arguing that,
whatever the good consequences of integrity in the practice of business,
it cannot be viewed primarily as either altruistic or instrumental.
An epilogue poses questions about the practice of integrity in business
schools, in teaching, research and management. It examines criticisms
of the practice of business schools and their relationship to business. It
then explores the purpose and values of business schools as part of higher
education, how this relates to the different stakeholders and in turn how
it relates to the practice of integrity in the curriculum.
I am conscious that I have not spent a lot of space on the meaning and
practice of sustainability, or details of reporting. To tease those out would
require two further books. What I attempt to set out in this book is the
connections between theory, value and practice, and the importance of
taking responsibility for these. There may be little evidence that the prac-
tice of integrity leads to success in business, but there is a great deal of
evidence that failure to practise integrity in business can lead to disasters
for business and wider society. Hence, part of the message of this book
is that integrity is not about asserting an ethical position, as if this were
something separate from business practice. Integrity is holistic, involv-
ing criticality and logical coherence (in developing authentic meaning
through dialogue), consciousness (of the self and others), connectivity
(an understanding of the significance of social relations), commitment
(to purpose, project and people), communication (in giving an authentic
account) and creativity (in embodying values in practice). As such, integ-
rity contributes directly to strategy, enterprise, marketing and all aspects
of business often thought to be value-free. In turn this links directly to
the ongoing debates about leadership, governance and organizational
theory, and engagement with complexity.
 Contents

1 Philosophy and Integrity 1

2 Integrity and Agency: Being True to the Self 31

3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 63

4 Integrity and Positive Responsibility 97

5 Integrity and Virtue 127

6 Anchoring Integrity 159

7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 193

8 Trust Me, I’m a Businessman: Integrity, Trust,

Corruption and Counterfeits 229

xiii
xiv Contents

Epilogue: Integrity and the Business School 261

Index 273
 1
Philosophy and Integrity

Abstract This chapter sets out the philosophical debate about the mean-
ing of integrity. First, focusing on the case of Arthur Andersen, it exam-
ines different philosophical views of integrity, including the integrated
self; moral identity; adhering to bottom-line principles, strength of will,
the act of judgment; and as a connecting or epistemic virtue. From this
will emerge a view of integrity as connective and complex. Alternative,
narrower, views of integrity are then critically examined. Focusing on
the re-presentation of identity, the chapter concludes by arguing for the
importance of responsibility in holding together the different aspects of
integrity.

There is a consensus amongst academics and practitioners about the

importance of integrity. A survey by the Council for Industry and
Higher Education (Archer and Davidson 2008), for instance, suggests
that the third most important quality employers want from graduate
employees, behind teamwork and communication skills, is integrity. This
theme is taken up by the Institute of Chartered Accountancy in England
and Wales (ICAEW) in Reporting with Integrity (2009), which aims to

© The Author(s) 2016 1

S. Robinson, The Practice of Integrity in Business,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-51553-7_1
2 The Practice of Integrity in Business

establish the utility of integrity. Integrity, it is argued, provides the basis

for establishing trust, both in leadership and in the wider profession.
This is so at individual and institutional level (cf. Solomon 2007) and is
embodied in corporation and individual practice and in the commitment
of the wider profession. Hence the engineering professions (Armstrong
et al. 1999), for instance, can write of the need to maintain the integrity
of the profession. By extension, it is argued for the accounting profes-
sion in particular, that integrity leads to reliability of information and
judgement, upon which the future of markets, financial systems and even
financial policies depend. The absence of integrity was, of course, exem-
plified in the credit crisis (Lanchester 2010).
The popularity of the term is also reflected in that it remains the most
frequently used value referred to in company value or mission state-
ments (Audi and Murphy 2006). And when governance crises occur in
different spheres, it is precisely the lack of integrity which is stressed. A
good example was the reaction to the scandal of the UK MPs’ misuse
of expenses, which had a strong sense that the breakdown of integrity
involved a betrayal of the public.1
It is, however, less clear exactly what the term means in practice. In
thirty years’ experience of teaching business ethics to practitioners and
conventional students, whenever I ask those with integrity to put their
hands up, there are always a handful who claim this prize with alacrity.
The majority keep their hands down and look uncertain. Those who
keep their hands down reveal interesting reflections, such as ‘integrity is
something about me as a person, and I am not sure I know myself that
well’, and ‘I can’t judge if I have integrity, it needs someone else to judge
that’. When quizzed further, most respondees suggest that integrity mat-
ters and that it matters because it involves something about authenticity.
Authenticity, of course, is a term ripe for debate. But it would seem to
involve something about not just ‘playing the game’, not just ‘wearing a
mask’. Hence, integrity is often contrasted with hypocrisy, whose mean-
ing is rooted in acting or playing.

1
http://www.standard.co.uk/news/politics/parliament-has-failed-to-restore-trust-after-mps-
expenses-scandal-10161775.html. Accessed 20/11/2015.
 1 Philosophy and Integrity 3

Some suggest integrity involves openness or transparency. Such terms,

however, did not resonate with the focus on feelings found in the student
responses. Deciding on whether a person has integrity involves making
a judgement about that very person. And judgements about the person
involve for most people fear of the negative. No one wants to be thought
of as lacking integrity. This would involve, in some sense, corruption,
a fragmentation (Cottingham 2010). And no person or organization
wants to be seen as ‘corrupt’. This suggests that integrity is as much
about psychology and relationships as it is about philosophy and moral-
ity—as much about (perceived) worth as it is about evident values and
principles. This mixture is powerfully brought to the surface in Cormac
McCarthy’s book The Road. In an apocalyptic era a man is taking his son
across war-scorched America to the coast, which he believes to be free
from the bleak, incessant conflict between the survivors. His primary
focus is on saving his son from the gangs who roam the streets, and who
might rape, kill or even eat his son. He has a gun with precious few bul-
lets left, and with which he threatens even the elderly infirm who come
too close. Noting his father’s reaction to people in need, the son poses the
simple question ‘are we still the good guys?’ (McCarthy 2007, 65). This
is a question about identity and character and demands reflection on his
father’s actions and how he views them, indeed on how he judges them.
His father defends his attitude and actions, founded in his role as protec-
tor of his son. This is what he stands up for, what differentiates him from
the lawless gangs they meet. Ultimately it is to do with what his father
calls the ‘fire’, which they carry, a metaphor for humanity. But the son’s
question raises the challenge about knowing when we have crossed the
line from a strong simple defence of people and principles to an action
that might in consequence harm others. That is not just about ethics but
about how we see the world.
Intriguing as these reflections might be, philosophers such as Audi and
Murphy (2006) and Curzer (2014) want more precision about this term
integrity. They fear that it is now doing service for all aspects of ethics, a
general value term. For most people that is what the term tends to mean,
‘doing the right thing’, but how is that idea actually going to inform
practice. Who, after all decides what the right thing is? And how can we
be sure what the right thing is?
4 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Defining Integrity
As Cottingham notes (2010), it is perhaps surprising that a systematic
focus on integrity does not appear in either Greek thought or the Judeo-
Christian tradition. Aristotle focuses on the virtues and argues that these
are interconnected, and that a person who practises one will have them
all (cf. Cottingham 2010). Prior to Aristotle, Plato focused on the unity
of one virtue, with different aspects (Wolf 2009). This sense of unity
suggests something of the core meaning of integer or integras as sound-
ness, purity or wholeness (Bosman 2012), with the corresponding mean-
ing of corruption as breaking down, spoiling or decay (ibid.). Related
indicators of integrity are honesty, transparency, consistency and so on
(Cottingham 2010).
The Judeo-Christian tradition has some references to integrity, such
as in Psalm 26. This begins, in the King James translation, ‘Judge me
O Lord for I have walked in mine integrity’. The Hebrew root of that
translation (tum) is wholeness or completeness. The act of sinning takes
something away from that, suggesting integrity as a form of innocence
(Cottingham 2010). The verses that follow, however, suggest a general
idea of leading an upright or righteous life, rather than providing any
specific account of the virtue of integrity, or any idea of unity of ethical
perspective. Psalm 86 offers a prayer for psychological or ethical unity,
‘Give me, O Lord, an undivided heart’.
The Christian gospels refer to the importance of finding one’s true self.
Even gaining the whole world is not enough to compensate for the loss of
oneself (heautos) (Luke 9:25). Later in Luke (15:17) comes the parable of
the prodigal son. Of course, he regrets his prodigality, returns from exile
and ‘comes to himself ’ (eis heauton elthôn; Luke 15:17). There is some-
thing in this about a rediscovery of the person’s true self. This is already
beginning to take the ideas associated with integrity into identity, and
thus to a relational definition of integrity. The prodigal son rediscovered
his identity in relation to his father, and doubtless at some point to his
brother. Another New Testament source is the Epistle of James. In James
4:8 the author calls for purity of heart, which is the opposite of being
‘double-minded’ (dipsychos). The idea of purity of heart has its analogue
in Islam with the concept of ikhlas (cf. Michel 2014) or sincerity.
 1 Philosophy and Integrity 5

How, then, do these ideas to look in practice? I will begin to explore

this through a case study.

Arthur Andersen
We do not now associate the US accountancy firm of Arthur Andersen
with integrity of any sort. On the contrary, after their connection to
Enron (Toffler 2003) and the subsequent collapse of both corporations,
the firm of Arthur Andersen is seen as a byword for corruption. It was,
however, very different at the beginning of a firm which built its repu-
tation around ethical character and a clear sense of integrity. This was
best illustrated by the ethical dilemma faced by the founder, Arthur
Anderson, in the early part of his career. The executive of a major railway
company asked him to change the figures in a financial report. Despite
the risk of losing significant business, Anderson reputedly gave the clear
response, ‘There’s not enough money in the city of Chicago to induce me
to change that report’ (ibid.). As feared, the railway company business
was lost. Within a year, however, the client firm had gone bankrupt, and
Andersen’s stance had established the reputation of a firm that could be
trusted. It embodied the core purpose and values of the Andersen busi-
ness, summed up in the adage ‘think straight, talk straight’, something
Andersen learned in his childhood. He developed and maintained the
firm’s focus on the core value of integrity, involving independent judge-
ment and action, prudence and a clear understanding of the meaning
and purpose of the profession of accountancy. This was maintained in
the firm’s practice after Andersen’s death in 1947. Key to it was a lengthy
induction for new staff, which began with Andersen’s story and focused
on: loyalty to the founder, professional identity fixed in the narrative of
the firm, and core values of the firm which informed how the firm would
be sustained.
In the 1990s, however, the firm began to diversify, increasingly focus-
ing on consultancy (Trevino and K. Nelson 2008). This led to several
changes. First, the narrative and core values became less prominent in
induction sessions, and in many cases they were lost altogether. This was
partly because the growth in consultancy put pressure on time, and partly
6 The Practice of Integrity in Business

because it was assumed that a rigorous selection process precluded the

need for induction into an ethical culture.
Second, with the diminution of the ethical narrative the firm’s focus
moved away from core values such as honesty and transparency to what
MacIntyre (1981) has characterized as institutional values, to do with
developing and sustaining the corporation. Third, the attitude towards,
and perception of, clients began to change radically. Andersen’s narrative
had suggested that the profession owed the client an honest judgement
on the finances. At one level this involved the best interest of the client,
who could not make effective business decisions based on calculations
that were untrue. The client, however, may not take this view of best
interest, as the original story showed, in which case the task of the audi-
tor was to challenge the client in the light of values that transcended
the interests both of the professional and of the client. Either way, this
involved respecting the client and remaining true to the relationship with
them, something defined partly by context and partly by the perceived
identity of the firm. With the focus on consultancy work, the relation-
ship with the client began to involve deception. The client was viewed
no longer in terms of relationship and context but rather as means to the
end of achieving profit, not as a stakeholder to whom the firm owed an
account of values and practice, still less respect. Hence, practices such
as inflating fees and extending contracts became commonplace. This in
turn led to an unrealistic inflation in estimates of what the firm could
achieve.
None of this suggests that consultancy per se leads to an erosion of val-
ues; rather, it suggests that, with a change in function, the reflection on
values was lost. This led to practice that did not balance the institutional
values (principally how to ensure company survival) with the values of
the community of practice, i.e. the profession. Hence, there was a break-
down in meaning at the heart of the organization. The original values
were still codified in the firm, but the practice was now opposite to those
values, something that the firm was blind to. In particular, the firm did
not practise independence. The resulting conflict of interest was summed
up in the case of Enron. In this the Anderson firm continued to act as
auditors, whilst also acting as consultants, in effect auditing their own
practices (Senate Committee 2004).
 1 Philosophy and Integrity 7

Fourth, a closed and defensive culture began to develop, based on

unquestioning loyalty to the partners, covering up practices that might
be questionable. Close to the end of the Enron crisis there were even
internal emails that asked senior colleagues to be sure that no emails
included a ‘smoking gun’: i.e. imputation of guilt.2 This was a curious
phenomenon. It seemed to accept that there was guilt that might have
been evidenced by a ‘smoking gun’. At the same time it was explicitly
encouraging deception, but in the context of emails, which the writers
must have known are easily recoverable in any investigation. It was as if
the email writers thought they could not be seen.
The story of Arthur Andersen sets out neatly the kinds of things most
of us think are involved in an understanding of integrity, and also corre-
sponding ideas of corruption. Philosophers have highlighted several dif-
ferent perspectives, including integrity as self-integration, moral identity,
moral purpose and commitment.

Self-Integration

This account of integrity suggests that it is about the integration of different

aspects of the person. One proponent of this, Frankfurt (1971), views this
in terms of higher-order or lower-order volitions. Higher-order volitions
involve long-term desires, and lower-order volitions immediate desires.
The higher-order volition of the drug addict, for instance, may be to be
a drug-free person and the lower-order volition to take drugs. Integrity,
and with that free will, argues Frankfurt, is achieved when the lower-order
volitions cohere with the higher-order volitions, bringing together volition
and action. In this argument integrity is achieved through making deci-
sions which consciously bring together the different elements.
In this,

…the person no longer holds himself at all apart from the desire to which
he has committed himself. It is no longer unsettled or uncertain whether
the object of that desire—that is, what he wants—is what he really wants:

2
Noted by Michael Anderson, federal investigator into Enron, in a presentation at the Centre for
Applied and Professional Ethics Conference, June 2007, University of Kingston.
8 The Practice of Integrity in Business

The decision determines what the person really wants by making the desires
upon which he decides fully his own. To this extent the person, in making
a decision by which he identifies with a desire, constitutes himself. (Frankfurt
1987, 38, my italics)

For Frankfurt this leads then to consistency and what he calls ‘whole-
heartedness’. This integration of the different elements of the self is not
confined to desire but includes principles and values, and Frankfurt sug-
gests that all of these things tend to be in a state of flux. Hence, the indi-
vidual has to take responsibility for bringing them together. Andersen
precisely shows this kind of wholeheartedness bringing together core
principles of his profession and his response.

Identity

A second view of integrity focuses on consistency with the person’s iden-

tity. Williams (1973) argues for this as part of his argument against a
utilitarian approach to ethics: that is, making an ethical decision based
largely on a calculation of consequences. One example that he offers is
of a dignitary who is the guest of a foreign nation. He is taken to a town
square where twenty people are about to be killed as reprisals for recent
armed protests. As a significant guest the visitor is offered the opportu-
nity to kill one of the twenty, thus allowing the other nineteen to live. A
utilitarian response might support this, based on the saving of nineteen
lives. In arguing against this Williams argues that such a calculation is
inadequate because it involves going against the core moral beliefs and
commitments that make up the identity of the person. Williams argues
that such commitments are central to the any self-understanding of iden-
tity; indeed, they are,

the condition of my existence, in the sense that unless I am propelled for-

ward by the conatus of desire, project and interest, it is unclear why I
should go on at all. (Williams 1981, 12)

A consequence of this is that integrity in this view can’t be seen as a

virtue. Virtues are disposition which enable the person to act, or which
 1 Philosophy and Integrity 9

motivate action. For Williams integrity is simply about acting in a way

that accurately reflects the sense of who the person is. This also reflects
something of the Arthur Andersen narrative. Andersen’s response is
based not just in core principles but also on his belief about himself,
his identity. That identity was focused on his view of his profession, but
also on his personal identity. It is this sense of identity which provides
consistency and which also enables him to take responsibility for a dif-
ficult response.

Critique

Both of these views seem to makes some sense, but neither self-integration
nor identity can be sufficient for a view of integrity. First, both suffer
from the assumption of an acceptable moral base, which neither the
focus of integration or identity provides. An SS guard would have shown
self-integration, with strong sense of identity based in life commitments
fuelled by a quasi-religious belief system (cf. Burleigh 2011, Cottingham
2010). In a film such as In Bruges (2008, Universal) the criminal head,
Harry, is an ambiguous character precisely because he reveals a strong
version of these kinds of integrity. In one sense he is admirable, focused
on the belief that it is wrong to kill children. This is a commitment which
fuels his identity and which he applies to himself. However, the context
of this commitment, his ‘business’, involves murder.
Second, along the same lines (cf. McFall 1987, Calhoun 1995), there
are no criteria in either theory for what might limit the kinds of desires
which constitute the self. On Williams’ account it is hard to deny Harry’s
integrity. Any idea of integrity demands some link to a wider view of
ethical meaning.
Third, any view of integrity as based in identity inevitably takes the
argument into the field of moral psychology, and the account of iden-
tity given by Williams does not take account of psychological reality. In
Williams’ view the focus on moral identity precludes the experience of
genuine temptation. You simply respond to an ethical challenge from
who you are. Experiencing, and overcoming, temptation would count
against genuine integrity on such a view. Psychological reality, however,
10 The Practice of Integrity in Business

suggests that identity is not fixed but includes experiencing genuine

temptation and thus handling struggle (Halfon 1989, Cottingham 2010,
Pianalto 2012).
In terms of the identity theory of integrity, psychology also suggests
that any view or act of self-identification may be flawed (Cottingham
2010). This may involve an unrealistic view of the self, based on convic-
tions which are less about ethical meaning than about underlying psycho-
logical dynamics. Such dynamics, built around previous relationships,
may affect perception and views of value and principle. This suggests that
any account of integrity would have to include the capacity to critically
question what the basis of one’s identity, and related ethical values, might
be. This presumes knowledge of the self which is always developing, and
awareness of the possibility of self-deception.
Finally, the idea of wholeheartedness and identity conferring commit-
ment tends to avoid the complexities of psychological life, and to assume
that integration in the sense of coherence of different aspects fitting neatly
together is obviously good. However, as Davion (1991) suggests, a per-
son may change radically and yet maintain integrity. The context of any
ethical decision is a complex and multifaceted social environment involv-
ing different relationships that make up any sense of identity. Handling
that complexity may demand an openness to different and conflicting
narratives which cannot be neatly resolved. Hence, a view of integrity
focused on solution and integration runs the risk of confusing integrity
with neatness.
The Andersen narrative is important in the light of these critiques. His
own moral identity was admirable and became the basis of the identity
of the firm, contributing directly to its success. However, as the firm
grew, the personal and professional narrative of Andersen was insuffi-
cient to handle the complexity presented by the move to consultancy.
The recitation of his narrative was not sufficient to maintain the identity
of the firm, partly because there was no critical questioning of that iden-
tity. Hence, when the firm was presented with opportunities to develop,
diversifying and increasing profits, this was not accompanied by any
reflection on the identity of the firm. The result was a bifurcation, or
splitting, of narratives. The old moral identity of the firm was assumed,
without question, and thus became a ‘zombie’ narrative: still walking,
 1 Philosophy and Integrity 11

i.e. referred to, but with no life behind the eyes. The alternative narratives
around consultancy, and related aims, thus emerged without any critical
examination, leading to practice which went directly against what was
perceived as the core identity. This suggests that integrity without critical
questioning, far from being morally good, can lead in different ways to
morally bad ends.
This focus on moral psychology then begins to link integrity to self-
knowledge and perception (cf. Nussbaum 1990), opening several avenues
that I will pursue in the next chapter. It also has led to developments in
philosophical perspectives on integrity.

Standing for Something

Calhoun (1995) argues for a sense of commitment which is about ‘stand-

ing for something’. She suggests that this involves more than simply
standing for an individual moral purpose, but rather, standing for a pur-
pose recognized by some community, which affords the basis for integ-
rity. Integrity here is associated explicitly with something worth striving
for, and it assumes a degree of agency, courage and perseverance that will
enable the person or group to stand up against internal and societal pres-
sures that impose obstacles to the purpose.
This moves away from an exclusively individual view of integrity to a
more social perspective, in which

Persons of integrity treat their own endorsements as ones that matter, or

ought to matter, to fellow deliberators…….. lying about one’s views, con-
cealing them, recanting them under pressure, selling them out for rewards
or to avoid penalties, and pandering to what one regards as the bad views
of others, all indicate a failure to regard one’s own judgment as one that
should matter to others. (Calhoun 1995, 258)

At the heart of this are both the consistent exercise of judgement by the
person and respect for the judgement of others. Calhoun argues that this
is what distinguishes the person of integrity from the fanatic. The fanatic
lacks any proper respect for the moral deliberations of others. Underlying
this is the view that moral deliberation has a social nature. This then
12 The Practice of Integrity in Business

begins to move the idea of integrity from simple integration or identity

to the way we think and make judgements, and the practice of proper
deliberation. What Calhoun does not do is to give a full account of what
the social nature is, beyond the idea of proper respect for it.
Scherkoske (2011) provides more detail around deliberation to begin
to show how this might look. He argues that integrity is a virtue (some-
thing which I will return in more detail to in Chap. 5). The nature of
this virtue, he suggests, is epistemic, ‘that is, it is a stable disposition that
reliably places its possessor in good epistemic position and leads to cogni-
tive success’ (Scherkoske 2013, 196). In short, it is about knowing what
one is doing in deliberation, knowing how one is doing it and taking
responsibility for how core values are embodied in practice. This involves
in particular three things: a disposition to take responsibility for one’s
convictions, such that one understands the basis of these; an awareness of
the quality of deliberation in relation to convictions, distinguishing such
activity from knee-jerk reaction based on conviction; and a disposition to
work convictions through into action.
These seem important things for some sense of integrity. However,
there are still problems. First, it is perfectly possible that our ubiquitous
SS guard might have gone through some such deliberative process and
be aware of how that has been framed. It is not that he does not show
proper respect for the deliberation of others but rather that what finally
determines his thinking and practice is a worldview, not the quality of
the deliberation. This suggests there is something more than recognizing
the quality of deliberation. Does the worldview we hold make sense?
Has it been examined? Connected to this, the stress in Calhoun and
Scherkoske is on the cognitive aspect of integrity. The affective aspect
of integrity (Solomon 2007), and how this relates to deliberation, is
equally important to judgement. The paradigm suggested by Calhoun
and Scherkoske is Western, stressing rationality. Other cultural views of
integrity have a very different perception, not least Buddhist (Beebe and
Rosen 2005, Fawkes 2014). These focus more on integrity perceived as
how we respond to internal conflict, and how one honestly deals with
this dynamic through the development of mindfulness and other states.
Integrity in this is very much about health and healing as much as
morality.
 1 Philosophy and Integrity 13

Moral Purpose

Rawls (1972) and Halfon (1989) argue that integrity must include an
acceptable moral purpose at the base. For Rawls this would involve
some clear conception of justice, defined in terms of fairness. Rawls has
a broad view of fairness which accepts relative inequality. Halfon is more
circumspect, arguing that integrity involves setting out an ethical pur-
pose that is conceptually clear, logically consistent, apprised of relevant
empirical evidence and careful about acknowledging as well as weighing
relevant moral considerations. In effect, Halfon argues that the person
of integrity will give a clear account of their moral purpose as part of
following a rigorous moral decision making process. People who have
integrity

… embrace a moral point of view that urges them to be conceptually clear,

logically consistent, apprised of relevant empirical evidence, and careful
about acknowledging as well as weighing relevant moral considerations.
Persons of integrity impose these restrictions on themselves since they are
concerned, not simply with taking any moral position, but with pursuing
a commitment to do what is best. (Halfon 1989, 37)

Halfon, then, differs from Calhoun in focusing more narrowly on a

moral integrity and thus the importance of moral purpose. However, he
suggests that the moral purpose comes from the person’s moral point of
view, which does not get us much further forward. What is a moral point
of view? The problem for Halfon is that his presentation of the moral
point of view fails to provide any ground between an individualist and
a totalitarian moral point of view. Hence, he concedes that a Nazi might
still be able to hold this form of integrity. I will argue in Chaps. 2 and 4
that the moral domain between those two extremes is actually much more
complex and includes many different narratives of moral significance,
embodied in distinct communities, not least the different professions who
in different ways relate to the business world. This takes integrity back the
messy detail of dealing with different narratives.
None of these approaches is sufficient in itself to characterize integrity.
The ICAEW report (2009) suggests that these partial approaches contain
14 The Practice of Integrity in Business

elements that can come together in a more coherent description of integ-

rity, with five core aspects:
– moral values. This demands clear thinking about what they are.
– motives. This demands awareness of motives and the capacity to test
them in the self and others.
– commitments. This involves sustaining commitment to others and
to values over a long period.
– qualities. This involves the virtues necessary to maintain integrity,
and will be considered in Chap. 5.
– achievements. The need to integrate moral purpose with practice,
walking the walk.
In turn, they argue that these elements lead to key ‘behavioural char-
acteristics’ of integrity. From moral values emerge the behaviours of
being honest and truthful. From motives emerge the behaviours of fair-
ness and compliance with the law. Commitment involves the promoting
of community interests. Qualities include being open and adaptable, and
the capacity to take corrective action. From achievements emerge the
behaviour of consistency. This can lead to a much fuller description of
integrity as:

Integration of the different parts of the person: emotional, psychological

and intellectual. This leads to holistic thinking, and an awareness of
the self, alongside awareness and appreciation of external data.
Consistency between: the self, values and practice; past present and future;
and different relationships, situations and contexts. Integrity is tested
most of all in the relationship with stakeholders, who may have very
different claims and perceived needs. This demands a consistency of
approach, with a clarity about core values, and capacity to develop
dialogue. The response may not be exactly the same in every context
but will remain consistent to the identity and purpose of the person of
the organization. Central to this is the idea of being true to purpose
and identity, requiring the practice of phronesis or practical wisdom
(more on which in Chap. 5).
Honesty and transparency, involving an openness to the self and others.
This raises many questions about the basis of this openness.
 1 Philosophy and Integrity 15

Independence. This is a key element of integrity. It ensures distance, such

that the professional can stand apart from competing interests, and
focus more effectively on the core purpose, enabling professional
autonomy.
Learning process. Given the limitations of human beings, it is impossible
to have complete integrity in any static sense. Hence, integrity is best
viewed in terms of a continual learning process, with the person dis-
covering more about the different aspects of the self and others and
about how these connect. Central to this is the capacity to reflect, to
evaluate practice, to be able to cope with criticism and to maintain,
develop or alter practice appropriately. Hence, integrity is focused on
relationships, not purely individualistic.
Commitment to purpose, project and people over time, and to the com-
mon good. The narrow view of integrity within a closed system has to
be tested against fundamental principles such a justice.
Such characteristics begin to form the basis of the view that integrity
is a complex collection of interconnected virtues (Solomon 2007,
Wolf 2009), partly expressed in Aristotle’s idea of the unity of the
virtues. This will be examined in more detail in Chap. 5. More
immediately, emerging from each of the philosophical perspectives
on integrity is a different stress on taking responsibility. However,
before developing this idea and this more complex view of integrity,
I want to contrast such approaches with those of writers who argue
for narrow or more simplistic approaches, some of which seek to
exclude the moral aspect.

Different Perspectives on Integrity

There are, at least, three alternative ways of viewing integrity:

• an economist’s view, which characterizes integrity as performative

• a view which distinguishes different kinds of integrity
• a narrow moral view: based on Aristotle’s virtue of truthfulness, this
argues against a complex and connective view of integrity.
16 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Integrity as Performative

A thoroughgoing attempt to distinguish moral from performance integ-

rity comes from the economists Erhard and Jensen (2014). In work in
progress they argue that integrity is distinct from the domains of ethics,
morality and the law. They define it in terms of wholeness, arguing that
this is critical to the success of any business project, and that this can be
seen as positive, i.e. scientific, as distinct from normative. The authors
are at pains to distinguish normative from positive views of integrity.
The background to this is an increased awareness in the discipline of
economics that human behaviour, and its vagaries and limitations, affects
economic outcomes (Mullainathan and Thaler 2001). At one level this
means that the old assumptions about human rationality and self-interest
are questioned: in other words, a key aspect of some views of the sci-
ence of economics. Erhard and Jensen are clear that there has to be a
new understanding of economics, not least because the credit crisis has
shown that economics as self-interest has led to failure. However, they are
not prepared to let go of an underlying scientific paradigm. Hence, they
argue, first, that integrity is critical to the new view of economics but also,
second, that this is a positive not a normative concept. In other words,
it is scientific not moral. What grounds do they have for excluding more
value from the term integrity? In the first place, they simply tell us that
they chose to accept the first two definitions of integrity in Webster’s dic-
tionary, referring to integrity in terms of wholeness, soundness and even
perfection, and to exclude the last one referring to moral integrity. They
give no grounds for the exclusion. Second, Erhard and Jensen frequently
simply assert that their view of integrity is positive. These repetitions seem
to presume an ongoing debate about the nature of economics as a disci-
pline, and are designed to reassure economists that the discipline will not
lose its scientific basis. Third, they add to this the assertion that integrity
in the positive sense is focused on business performance. Without whole-
ness there cannot be success. This is illustrated at one point in terms
of governance. They argue that if a board does not enable good critical
dialogue then its members will have no chance to raise key questions.
These are the ‘elephants in the room’, without which the board cannot be
aware of all the issues that might affect success. Partly, then, wholeness
 1 Philosophy and Integrity 17

involves the fullest possible awareness of issues, including social and other
contexts. This connection between integrity and wholeness is expressed
in syllogistic terms such that the authors can refer to the Law of Integrity.
It is worth quoting the summary of this logic in full:

• ‘Integrity Defined: For an object, system, person, or other human entity

or practice, the state of being whole, complete, unbroken, unimpaired,
sound, in perfect condition.
• The Relation between Integrity and Workability: Integrity (the state of
being whole, complete, unbroken, unimpaired, sound, in perfect con-
dition) is the necessary and sufficient condition for maximum work-
ability (capable of producing the desired effect or result).
• The Relation between Workability and Performance: Workability (capa-
ble of producing the desired effect or result) is a necessary but not
sufficient condition for performance (however one wishes to define
performance).
• The Relation between Integrity and Performance: Integrity (the state
of being whole, complete, unbroken, unimpaired, sound, in per-
fect condition) is thus a necessary but not sufficient condition for
performance.
• The Law of Integrity: As the integrity (the state of being whole and
complete, etc.) of an object, system, person, or other human entity or
practice declines, workability declines, and as workability declines the
opportunity for performance declines.
• The Relation between Integrity and Value: Integrity is therefore a neces-
sary but not sufficient condition for long-run value maximization’
(2014, 21).
The idea of integrity applies to individuals and to human organizations.
For both it is then defined as whole or complete. This is seen, more pre-
cisely, as the person or organization honouring its word, to its employees
and to its customers, suppliers and other stakeholders. This means ‘noth-
ing is hidden, no deception, no untruths, no violation of contracts or
property rights’ and so on. They suggest that if the person or organiza-
tion ‘refuses to play by any of the rules of the game it is in, integrity
requires it to make this clear to all others and to willingly bear the costs
of not playing by one or more of the rules of the game’ (2014, 28).
18 The Practice of Integrity in Business

The authors perceive this to be a new view of integrity, not least because
it links integrity to successful performance. Cracks begin to appear in
their argument, however, on four fronts. First, they define the term as
‘honoring’ one’s word (individual or institutional). This is distin-
guished from keeping one’s word, in the sense that honouring enables
one to remain focused on one’s word, even when it has not been kept.
On the face of it, this attempts to side-step Kant’s categorical impera-
tive, exemplified in promise keeping, but raises more questions than it
answers. It is difficult to understand, for instance, where the impera-
tive to honour one’s word originates, without some recourse to ethical
values. In common definitions honour involves both ethical value and
personal worth (cf. Rodriguez Mosquera 2013) and relates to the vir-
tues.3 Hence, Shakespeare in Henry IV parts 1 and 2 and Henry V
provides an extended dialogue on several different views of honour
and how it connects to public and personal perceptions of worth.4
Second, the concept of ‘word’ also requires further analysis. The term
might involve intention, relational commitment, core values, core tar-
gets and so on. It is hard to see how this can exclude morality, ethics
or, in some situations, the law, as each of these ideas expresses some-
thing about values or worth and how relationships are best fulfilled (cf.
Teehan 1995). Third, Erhard and Jensen’s concept of wholeness is arbi-
trary, focusing on its use in fulfilling targets and problem-solving. This
excludes the possibility of different and conflicting value narratives
present in decision-making, and thus the need to clarify values in rela-
tion to action. It excludes also the relationship of moral and other
values to performance and the understandings of the worth of that
performance. In short, moral and other values are central to any under-
standing of behaviour. The question, then, becomes not how they are
to be excluded but, rather, how such values are handled.

3
Ironically, Erhard and Jensen (2014) suggest that the idea of integrity as a virtue is one thing that
prevents people from addressing integrity. However, there is no evidence given for this assertion
and no clear definition of the term virtue, which they seem to view as simply a catch all for good
ethical behaviour.
4
Hotspur, for instance, views honour as requiring a defence of one’s reputation. Henry’s Renaissance
view of honour is rather focused in respect and mutuality (cf. Robinson and Smith 2014, ch.5),
taking it beyond an individual moral idea.
 1 Philosophy and Integrity 19

Finally, the connection between integrity and successful performance

has in fact been made many times (see Robinson and Smith 2014 for
summaries of this research). The point is that the connection in this
research is focused on the utility of moral and relational values such as
trust, justice and respect, the effect that the practice of these values has on
the well-being of the workforce, and the resulting effective performance.

Different Types of Integrity

Some writers attempt to distinguish moral integrity from behavioural

integrity. Moral integrity, Simons (1999) argues, is seen in terms of the
leader remaining true to principles (based in transformational leader-
ship theory). Behavioural integrity is focused on leadership practice and,
above all, the need of the leader to generate trust. Trust, it is argued, is
enabled through consistency of leadership behaviour, and the research
task then becomes the exploration of the connection between trust and
behavioural integrity. The distinction, however, is not clear because ulti-
mately behavioural integrity is based on staying true to principles, and
this leaves the problem of who determines the principles, and how they
are communicated (Western 2009).
Bauman (2013) takes elements of these positions and argues for three
‘faces’ of leadership integrity. These are conceptually distinct but not
necessarily exclusive and contribute to ‘conferring’ identity on leader-
ship. The first, substantive leadership integrity, is based on commitment to
substantive, widely recognized moral values, including honesty, fairness
and respect (cf. Beauchamp and Childress 1994). This broadly reflects
values-based leadership theories, from transformational to servant lead-
ership (cf. Robinson and Smith 2014). The second, formal leadership
integrity, centres on consistency in fulfilling targets and embodying val-
ues. The example Bauman gives is of Amon Goeth, the commander of
a forced labour camp in the Second World War. Bauman notes that this
can be described as behavioural integrity as defined by Simons (1999)
and Palanski and Yammarino (2007). The third face is personal leader-
ship integrity, focused on personal values. The example he uses here is of
Thomas More, in his standing out against Henry VIII’s attempts to annul
20 The Practice of Integrity in Business

the marriage to Catherine of Aragon. Bauman argues that this action was
based on personal rather than moral values. He concludes that only sub-
stantive leadership integrity meets the criterion of authentic leadership as
proposed in the transformational leadership theory.
Whilst it is possible to distinguish these different leadership integrities,
it is not clear how this takes the discussion further. Each of the ‘faces’
of integrity involves a degree of complexity which is not addressed, and
which demands attention if leadership integrity is to be developed. First,
Bauman is focused on an individualized view of leadership. The cases in
all three views reveal nothing of dispersed leadership or the integrity of
the organization, or how values might be articulated. Ironically, in the
case of substantive leadership integrity the workers are precisely surprised
by the leader’s (Johnson-Sirleaf ) focus on honesty, suggesting that there
had been little previous discussion about values, either of the leader or of
the organization. This also suggests that part of the leader’s function is to
inculcate values. This, however, raises again questions about whether the
leader is imposing values, reigniting critiques of transformational leader-
ship (Western 2009) and familiar questions about whether the imposi-
tion of values really involves integrity.
Second, the distinction between personal and substantive integrity is
problematic. In the case that he uses, of Thomas More, Bauman argues
that More is following values which are of concern only to him, and
that his beliefs and actions do not have a wider concern. This is built on
Bauman’s earlier distinction between personal and moral values. However,
More’s position was precisely not personal in the sense that Bauman sug-
gests. More’s decision to oppose Henry VIII was based on normative
moral values and an underlying theology. These included the belief that
the King’s authority was ultimately founded in God, a natural law view
of marriage, a view about the authority of the Pope, a view about justice
(based on natural law), the imperative of honesty and the belief that trust
was ultimately based on a relationship with God. Hence, he was precisely
concerned with what Bauman characterizes as moral values, values which
informed public practice in several ways. It could be argued, indeed, that
a concern for honesty drove much of More’s response. In the light of
this, a simple distinction between personal and substantive leadership
integrity is not clear. Any distinction is better focused on identity, in
 1 Philosophy and Integrity 21

particular where the identity of the person, and related perceived psycho-
logical needs, take precedence over the other value narratives (see Chaps. 3
and 4 for further detail on this).
Third, and connected, the focus on substantive moral values is insuffi-
cient. As the More and the Goeth cases show, underpinning moral values,
and often informing them, are also worldviews which form the basis of
worth. This would suggest that integrity requires such world views be
understood, articulated and critically examined. Fourth, even substantive
integrity, as characterized by Bauman, is not straightforward. Values such
as honesty and fairness have many different meanings, conceptually and in
terms of application. It is difficult to articulate the meaning of fairness, for
instance, without analysing the different views of justice—from justice as
equal distribution to justice as merit or desert (see Harris 2006, Rawls 1972).
Even the concept of justice, however is often radically affected by rela-
tional dynamics, not least because the practice of justice is connected to
views of worth, and in turn links to issues of self-worth or self-esteem
(Solomon 2007, cf. Stets and Burke 2014).
Fifth, and further connected, Bauman’s view of leadership integrity
remains focused on a rational/cognitive paradigm. It does not begin to
explore how affective meaning relates to substantive values. Solomon
(2007) argues for the importance of a holistic perspective in integrity,
focusing on affective psychological congruence as much as ethical consis-
tency, and in particular on how these two factors are engaged.
Finally, Bauman is at pains to explore the meaning of identity confer-
ment. He argues that this is focused in the self-concept, and that substan-
tive moral values become part of that self-concept. It is precisely this idea
of the self which forms the basis of identity, and which in turn becomes
the focus of integrity. However, this provides once more an individualis-
tic and univocal view of the self, a self which can be identified in terms
of apparently clear values. This does not take account of the possibility
of a plural self, or the possibility that that self may be focused not on a
discrete set of values, but rather on values associated with many differ-
ent relationships. This does not take us beyond the model of identity in
Williams’ view of integrity.
A different approach comes from Audi and Murphy (2006), who
critique the broad view of integrity, partly because it becomes a ‘blunt
22 The Practice of Integrity in Business

instrument’: that is, integrity per se does not offer specific and substantive
guidance about ethical judgements. Hence, they distinguish moral the-
ory, which provides guidance about moral content, from integrity, which
enables consistent deliberation. Deontological theory, for instance, pro-
vides principles which can illuminate the ethical basis of decision-making.
Simply to say that a person acted with integrity does not say anything
about the moral content of the decision. Hence, Audi and Murphy sug-
gest that integrity should be seen as secondary but complementary to
ethical theory. Without the moral content, they argue, the term has little
practical or intellectual value (Audi and Murphy 2006, 11). However, it
is not clear how useful the distinction is. Consideration of principles is
clearly important in moral deliberation. Once more, though, no principle
reveals its meaning without the person taking responsibility for critically
testing its meaning in context, and that in relation to other views of the
same principle. A good example of this is the Manchester con-joined twin
case (Lee 2011). In that case Roman Catholic bishops argued against split-
ting the twins (thus saving one of them), based on six principles connected
to the sanctity of life. The appeal judges carefully examined the same six
principles and came to a different conclusion. Integrity in this sense is
critical to the practice of moral deliberation, part of which involves criti-
cally testing the perception of the moral ground. In other words, it is dif-
ficult to make sense of the moral content without the practice of integrity.
It is possible to distinguish further different types of integrity: for
instance, personal from moral, personal from professional or intellectual
integrity from moral integrity. This gives the impression of distinctive
soundness in each of these areas. Whilst personal integrity can be dis-
tinguished from moral, the two are connected precisely because they are
both part of the person’s identity. Godlovitch (1993) argues that pro-
fessional integrity is different from and weaker than moral integrity.
Professional integrity is something analogous to etiquette. In contrast
(ibid., 573), moral integrity ‘trades between the norms of unity and hon-
esty’. However, once more, it is difficult to see how professional integrity
is not directly connected to both personal and moral integrity. Personal
integrity is focused on the agency and identity of the person, while the
professional institution, and related values, are part of the social identity
of the person (Burkitt 2008). Similarly, professional integrity is directly
 1 Philosophy and Integrity 23

linked to moral integrity, partly because professional identity is focused

on moral goods and on related purpose (see Chap. 4 below).
Kekes (1983) suggests that intellectual integrity is distinct from moral
integrity. However, whilst it is possible to understand what it means to
be intellectually sound (adhering to rational thinking and so on), it is dif-
ficult to see intellectual integrity as unconnected to practice, and there-
fore to communities of practice which involve relationships and to core
relational values such as justice, or to moral integrity. Aristotle’s phronesis
is precisely an intellectual virtue which is critical to the practice of moral
virtues, enabling reflection on the good.
The problem with the views which try to see the different integrities as
discrete is that they are based on the assumption that the underlying areas
are discrete. In arguing for a holistic view of integrity Solomon (2007)
precisely notes the connection between the intellect and the affect, the
affect and value, and how values and a related sense of worth (self and
other) relate to identity.

Truthfulness

Developing the Williams view of integrity associated with identity, Curzer

(2014) argues from a minimalist Aristotelian perspective. Far from integ-
rity being a complex virtue or collection of virtues, though, he argues that
it is best summed up in Aristotle’s simple virtue of truthfulness (alētheia).
This involves the accurate and reliable re-presentation of the self in rela-
tionships with others. Curzer argues that the self is seen as one’s history,
current character and future projects, as expressed in one’s commitments
(to ideals, values, goals and projects). These in turn are key to a sense of
self-worth and to one’s relationships with others, especially in matters
importantly related to one’s reputation. This is a significant development
from Williams’ view of identity and integrity because it begins to focus
on the relational dynamics. As such, it is partially about reputation, which
includes successes and failures (ibid., 197). This includes honesty and
also remaining truthful about the self across all situations, even when
something is at stake. Truthfulness, then, is not about truthful ideas or
concepts, but about being truthful to how one presents oneself. This is
24 The Practice of Integrity in Business

reinforced, argues Curzer, by Aristotle’s doctrine of the mean. Aristotle

argued that the virtues are flanked by two extremes. The virtue is the dis-
position to act in in a certain way that is between these. One example is
the virtue of courage, which is flanked by cowardice and by foolhardiness.
The mean of truthfulness about the self is flanked on one side by boastful-
ness, an inflation of the truth to make the self more important, and on
the other side by false modesty. A second element of the virtues is that
they have appropriate passions which motivate their use. Curzer reminds
us, for instance, about the motivations for boasting (2014, 205), which
include love of falsehood, gaining honour and gaining money. The first
two motivations point to minor flaws; the third is more serious. Aristotle
saw this as not simply about inflating the self but as also a deficiency of
another virtue: liberality. Hence, this is focused on meanness, but possi-
bly also a deficiency also of justice (Curzer 2014, 205). The proper moti-
vation for truthfulness is simply a passion for the truth, philalēthes.
Curzer’s is a minimalist account precisely because he believes that
Aristotle has no view of integrity which connects the other virtues, offer-
ing some sense of wholeness. The focus is simply on truthfulness, and
the other virtues pick up other elements often associated with integrity,
such as phronesis, practical wisdom (see Chap. 5 below). Hence, self-
knowledge, for instance, is seen as a separate virtue.
This focus begins to connect with other ideas. First, it assumes some
sense of authenticity, including: avoidance of self or other deception;
knowledge acquired authentically, that is, through the person’s own
deliberation, regardless of peer pressure; the importance of maintaining
identity; and the importance of not being ‘bounded by morality’— i.e.
working from a legalistic unthinking view of ethics. All this confers iden-
tity. Second, the idea of truthfulness to the self assumes consistency in
practice, and commitment to projects and relationships through whom
the person expresses the self. This involves for Curzer: holding fast to
judgement of right and wrong, commitment over time to people and
projects, relationships, loyalty over time and honesty.
Hence, whilst Curzer attempts to distinguish from the bigger views of
integrity, he cannot escape some of the key elements of those views. This
emerges most clearly when he points out that the self is not necessarily a
single element: i.e. there may be very different relationships and associated
 1 Philosophy and Integrity 25

narratives which constitute the self. Once he accepts that, the self and knowl-
edge of the self is opened out beyond a simple re-presentation of the self. The
self has to include engagement with the different narratives that make up the
self. This takes the constitution of the self beyond simply individual delib-
eration, and into ongoing dialogue. This involves how those relationships
are developed and into a more holistic view, not a narrowly rational one.

Taking Responsibility
All of these characteristics focus on identity and how the self relates to the
world, and they bring together a proper concern for: owning—that is criti-
cally engaging—principles and values; developing awareness of the self and
others; and working through one’s ethical identity in practice. In effect, this
involves taking responsibility for values, relationships and actions (Mason
2001, Paine 1994). Without accepting responsibility for ethical values and
for response neither the individual nor the profession can develop a genu-
ine moral identity or agency. This includes the recognition of key shared
values. Hence, Mason (2001), whilst echoing the concern for the practice
of rational agency, also argues that there are certain fundamental moral
principles which cannot be contravened by a person with integrity. In argu-
ing for an ethics based on integrity, he stresses the importance of respect for
human dignity as a core principle. Hence, integrity cannot be ascribed to
persons who advocate genocide, or who deny the moral status of all people
(cf. McFall 1987, Cox et al. 1999, Putman 1996).
Integrity, then, cannot be simply about consistency or practising ratio-
nal decision-making, though both are important. There is at its heart
something about taking responsibility for the meaning and consequences
of ones actions. This is precisely what the SS guard did not do. Such a
person was both unable to critically integrate core meaning values and
purpose (either of himself or others), and unable to see either the con-
sequences or the significance of the consequences of his actions on him-
self or others. This takes the discussion into moral psychology and the
mechanisms of self-deception or cultural domination. Smail (1984) notes
that much of the ‘truth’ about selves and others is illusory: i.e. it is built
on social narratives about meaning (myths), and often avoids genuine
26 The Practice of Integrity in Business

reflection on the self or one’s group. Hence, honesty is very much about
how one is able to examine the self and others in a way which both
understands and tests such illusions.
The dynamics of self-deception precisely reduce the possibility of differ-
ence, at levels of value or action, taking away the need to handle any con-
flict, or to deal with any aporia (significant dilemmas, see Bauman 1993).
McFall (1987, 9–10) suggests that without the awareness of such differ-
ence, and thus potential conflict, it makes no sense to speak of integrity:

A person of integrity is willing to bear the consequences of her convictions,

even when this is difficult … A person whose only principle is ‘Seek my
own pleasure’ is not a candidate for integrity because there is no possibility
of conflict—between pleasure and principle—in which integrity could be
lost. Where there is no possibility of its loss, integrity cannot exist.

I will return to this in the final chapters connected to the views of the
CEO of Unilever.
This begins to suggest, then, that integrity is more than a formal moral
concept, involving also awareness of the difference, in values, culture,
consequences and how that might be addressed. Strikingly, both Cohen
(2001) and Burleigh (2011) show how in many cases SS troopers were
aware of such value narratives and struggled to make sense of them in
relation to their orders and the wider Nazi worldview. They note the cog-
nitive and affective dissonance experienced by the troopers, sometimes
leading to stress and depression, and reassignment. In some cases this
lead to extraordinary attempts to ‘respect’ human dignity, even in the act
of killing children, with some guards chastising colleagues for the way in
which they carried out their killing.

Conclusion
In the light of the argument thus far, integrity is key to the ethical project.
It involves something about the identity of the person and owning, viz.
understanding, both values and how we relate to those values, something
about proper deliberation and how we can give an account of our ethical
meaning, and something about how we relate to the self and to others.
 1 Philosophy and Integrity 27

A truthful and reliable re-presentation of the self involves taking respon-

sibility for:

• our view of meaning and significance, who we are

• how we relate this to our practice and procedures
• how we give account of that meaning and practice in the context of
our social and physical environment
• how we develop that meaning and practice in the future in the context
of our social and physical environment.

Each of these aspects of responsibility reveals something about the self

or the organization in relationship. Mason (2001), Paine (1994), Calhoun
(1994) and Covaleskie (2011) all stress this aspect of integrity as taking
responsibility for words and actions. It is also about taking responsibility for
relationships, both in the way that the narratives of different relationships
test and shape identity and in the way that such identity is expressed in sig-
nificant actions. Hence, personal, professional, procedural (organizational)
and even public integrity are interconnected. All involve moral and psy-
chological meaning and the embodiment of that in practice. All of this was
illustrated in the Arthur Andersen case. The firm did not just lose its grasp
of the different narratives that it began to engage; it lost its grasp of what
they meant to itself and to its relationships. With that, they lost credibility.
What begins to emerge is a view of integrity as focused on the different,
but interconnected, aspects of responsibility (cf. Schweiker 2010, Robinson
2009). The first two of these originate in Aristotle’s thinking: imputability
and accountability. A third aspect—responsibility for, or positive respon-
sibility—has gained ground since the Holocaust. Essentially this involves
taking responsibility for the future. In the next three chapters I will exam-
ine each of these as ways of clarifying and developing the meaning and
practice of integrity, and how this is central to the practice of business.

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 2
Integrity and Agency: Being True
to the Self

Abstract Beginning with the case of Alan Greenspan and related credit
crisis issues, this chapter first sets out the first mode of responsibility:
attributability. Attributability focuses on causation, expressed in effective
decision-making and the practice of critical agency and self-governance.
Agency is analysed in holistic terms of critical relationship to ideas (cog-
nitive); values, especially ethical values (affective); practice (based in time
and space); worth, not simply self-esteem but a sense of worth, focused in
purpose, and worldview; and the social and physical environment (inter-
active and interconnected).
From responsibility for reflection on the whole person or organization
the chapter then looks at views of the self in relation to plurality, based
on development, narrative and dialogue. Built on a social construction-
ist view of identity, personal and organizational, this suggests a view of
integrity as dynamic and continuously developing re-presentation of the
plural self.

In the last chapter I began to focus on the relationship between the accurate
and reliable re-presentation of the self or organization and the practice of
responsibility, which I characterized as involving three modes. It is the first

© The Author(s) 2016 31

S. Robinson, The Practice of Integrity in Business,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-51553-7_2
32 The Practice of Integrity in Business

of these, attributability, that I will examine in this chapter. The core mean-
ing of integrity in this light is taking responsibility for the self as a whole. A
truthful relationship to the self demands critical reflection on ideas, values,
worth and purpose, practice and relations to the social and physical envi-
ronment. At the heart of this is perception of the self and others, and the
self is constituted through decision-making in relation to the social context.
Alongside the holistic perspective is the developing and dialogic view
of the self as constituted through engaging different relationships and
their associated narratives. A truthful re-presentation of the self demands
a critical engagement with those different narratives. The chapter ends by
noting that this dynamic view of integrity inevitably involves a struggle
to take responsibility for meaning and practice, contrasting such an hon-
est struggle with simplistic views of integrity which claim the moral high
ground too easily. I will begin this exploration with an excerpt from Alan
Greenspan’s testimony before Congress in October 2008 (Hearing 2008).

Alan Greenspan
Chairman Waxman: You had an ideology. ‘My judgment is that free,
competitive markets are by far the unrivalled way to organize economies.
We have tried regulation, none meaningfully worked’. That is your quote.
Now our whole economy is paying its price. Do you feel that your ideology
pushed you to make decisions that you wish you had not made?
Mr. Greenspan: Well, remember, though, whether or not ideology is a
conceptual framework with the way people deal with reality, everyone has
one. You have to. To exist you need an ideology. The question is whether it
exists, is accurate or not. What I am saying to you is yes, I found a flaw, I
don’t know how significant or permanent it is, but I have been distressed
by that fact. I found a flaw in the model that I perceived is the critical
functioning structure of how the world works.
Chairman Waxman: In other words, you found that your view of the
world, your ideology, was not right, it was not working.
Mr. Greenspan: Precisely. That’s precisely the reason I was shocked,
because I had been going forty years or more with considerable evidence
that it was working exceptionally well.
(Congress Committee on Oversight and Government Reform 2008, 37)
 2 Integrity and Agency: Being True to the Self 33

Of the many critical reflections after the credit crisis this was perhaps
the most dramatic moment. The architect of deregulation, and chairman
of the Board of Governors of the Federal Reserve, begins to say there is
something wrong with the thinking that was at the base of his actions,
resulting in the credit crisis of 2007/2008. At the heart of this had been
the practice of selling on derivatives, coupled with deregulation. It is pos-
sible to see in Greenspan’s actions up to 2008 something of integrity. He
clearly had a strong belief that the unfettered sale of derivatives would
lead to good consequences for all concerned, from cheap mortgages to
increased profits. At the heart of this was the belief that regulation would
hold back the enterprise at the heart of this. In any case, regulation, he
argued, was ineffective:

I know of no set of supervisory actions we can take that can prevent people
from making dumb mistakes. I think it is very important for us not to
introduce regulation for regulation’s sake. (ibid.)

Such a statement suggests an attempt to challenge the thinking on reg-

ulation, and to focus on the issue of freedom. Greenspan took responsibil-
ity for following that belief through, and this, amongst many other things,
eventually led to the credit crisis, and to the moment where Greenspan
had to justify his thinking and his practice. On the basis of that thinking
and practice, can we determine whether he had integrity? As I have sug-
gested, Greenspan showed consistency, commitment, courage even, all of
which are admirable qualities in their own right and which, as we have
seen, are associated with integrity. There is good evidence that he took
responsibility for those beliefs and stood up for them, and that he had
a sense of public good that he wanted to develop. But his thinking and
practice involved flaws which suggest that a key aspect of integrity that
he failed to engage was the relationship between ideology—the term he
uses—and reality. There is something very striking about a man of such
power straining to understand just what was had gone wrong with his
worldview. He clearly did not understand what this might be. Moreover,
he seems to suggest that the problem is a flaw in the ideology, rather than
the ideology per se being wrong. Equally powerful is the sense that he did
not understand how to engage with the reality of what had happened.
34 The Practice of Integrity in Business

One thing is clear: Greenspan was not taking responsibility for

exploring that connection. Taking responsibility in this sense links to
the first mode of responsibility noted at the end of the last chapter:
attributability.

Attributability
There are strong and weak views of attributability. The weak views
(McKenny 2005) simply refer to the causal connection between the
person and any action, showing that the action can be attributed to
the person. Such a view does not help in determining just how much the
person is actually involved in, and is therefore fully responsible for, the
action. A stronger view suggests that this aspect or mode of responsi-
bility involves a rational decision-making process which enables the
person fully to own the action that arises from the decision. Taylor
(1989, cf. Korsgaard 2009) argues that this decision-making involves
a strong valuation that connects action to deep decision-making, and
this is what constitutes the moral identity of the person or group.
Identity in this sense connects directly to self-governance or agency
(Paine 1994, Mason 2001), owning thoughts and actions. It is worth
distinguishing this from what might be termed strict or negative lia-
bility. Ricoeur (2000) refers to such a view of responsibility, which
involves determining the responsibility for any action in the past. This
tends to be dominated by the legalistic idea of culpability, and I will
return to this in Chap. 4.
Stress on autonomy and agency might give the impression of a
Kantian perspective, with responsibility largely individualistic and ratio-
nal. However, responsibility, even as self-governance, is fundamentally
relational. Focus on self-governance, such that decisions are taken in the
light of self-identity, demands not simply rationality but also an aware-
ness and appreciation of ideas (cognitive), values, including ethical values
(affective), worth (underlying view and sense of value, key to identity
and purpose), and the social and physical environment (interactive and
interconnected) and one’s relationship to it.
 2 Integrity and Agency: Being True to the Self 35

Ideas

This demands clarity about the concepts that one uses, and the capacity
to justify them rationally. We can hardly be said to be responsible for our
thoughts if we cannot provide some account of and justification for them.
This kind of rational responsibility therefore demands an openness to cri-
tique. This may seem straightforward. However, in the context of practice
there are many examples in business of leaders who have not understood
what they were doing, including the core concepts behind their practice.
Greenspan is a good example. His retort about regulation for its own sake
shows that he has not thought through the nature of governance, either in
terms of self-governance or in terms of the nature of regulation. The think-
ing is characterized by simplistic polarized patterns which suggest that all
regulation is negative and takes away from the freedom to pursue profit.
In the credit crisis more widely this lack of critical questioning was
evidenced in different ways. There was no attempt critically to assess the
sale of derivatives, in terms of theory or practice. Tett (2009) notes how
attempts even to question practice, as a journalist, were dismissed out of
hand. Repeatedly, firms made the mistake of buying into practices that
were not thoroughly understood, or which involved judgements outside
their expertise. AIG, for instance offered credit-default insurance on mort-
gage-backed securities that it didn’t understand. Merrill decided it would
use instruments developed by Goldman Sachs to invest its own capital in
what were subsequently revealed as toxic loans. Examples from the past
revealed the same lack of critical thinking. Conseco in 1999 had a suc-
cessful track record of taking over companies, all of which were insurance-
based. The corporation, however, had no understanding or experience of
the mortgage business. The result was a complete lack of understand-
ing about the business model that it had taken on when buying Green
Tree Finance. Despite this, Conseco increased its mortgage business. This
continued up to the point of collapse. The only criterion for taking this
on board was that it made money (Carroll and Mui 2009). The credit
crisis of 2007/2008 provides a good illustration of the absence of such
agency, involving: a lack of understanding about CDOs (and the math-
ematical formula underlying them, cf. Lanchester 2010); a professional
36 The Practice of Integrity in Business

identity focused on narrow values, with a lack of awareness and apprecia-

tion of the wider industry, profession and stakeholders (ICAEW 2009);
and a lack of understanding of the core purpose of the organization
(cf. Parliamentary Commission on Banking 2013). Many business leaders,
such as Fred Goodwin, reinforced this by actively avoiding consideration
of items on the board agenda that they die not understand (cf. Martin
2013). In Goodwin’s case this was partly because his background was not
in banking. This eventually led him to acquire a Dutch bank loaded with
toxic debt, without due diligence. Critical challenge and the capacity to
deal with this would seem to be central to clarity about ideas and ratio-
nality. Associated with lack of critical thinking is the prevalence of logical
fallacies, something I will return to in several cases.

Values

Alongside the cognitive realm is the affect realm, focused on values

(Cowan 2005). We tend to view values as ideas which will in some way
illuminate practice but as something distinct from it. Hence, the process
of deliberation is often taken to involve, first, clarifying moral values and
then using these in rational deliberation. However, values are most often
connected to the wider world and sometimes held in place by affective
dynamics. This complicates so-called rational deliberation. Some busi-
nesses approach this by focusing on core moral principles, such as justice
or equal respect (cf. Beauchamp and Childress 1994). Others identify
worldviews which sum up core values. Hence, the King III Report
(2009) refers to ubuntu (‘I am because you are’) as the underlying world-
view of the key principles of corporate governance: a view of the world
as interdependent. Underlying Greenspan’s values was a belief in nega-
tive freedom: i.e. freedom from coercion (Berlin 1968). His worldview
was deeply influenced by the philosophy of Ayn Rand. Rand summed
up her objectivist philosophy as ‘the concept of man as a heroic being,
with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive
achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute’ (Rand
1992, 1170–1171). The individualized basis of this philosophy suggests
little connection to the wider society or environment, and certainly no
 2 Integrity and Agency: Being True to the Self 37

sense of responsibility. Even more problematic is the view of reason as an

absolute, denying the role of the affect, which, of course, links directly
to values.
Integrity requires critical engagement with the values held by the self
and others and with the worldviews which hold the values in place. This
demands the capacity to appreciate and value thoughts and actions. It is
not just that they are coherent; it is also that they have distinct meaning
and value, such that one prefers one practice to others. Even at this stage,
responsibility involves a comparison with other practices and their values.
It does not take place in social isolation (Taylor 1989). Simply to state
values does not involve taking responsibility for understanding them. To
understand them requires a critical reflection on the values in relation to
the community of practice and any idea of purpose. This dynamic, as I
will note in more detail in Chap. 6, applies as much to the individual as
to the development of values in any organization. For leaders simply to
assert values without the opportunity for them to be critically challenged
does not allow workers to own them, to take responsibility for them. In
the case of Enron, employees typically learned their values as a mantra,
often having them printed out on their desk in case their manager came.
There was no sense of responsibility for testing the meaning of those
values at any level.

Worth

Values and purpose connect directly to worth and thus to any sense of
identity and how this is perceived. This is partly about self-esteem, but
not in an isolated or individualistic way. The worth of an individual is
focused on both core values and on practice. Hence, worth also has some
degree of social judgement about it. The practice of particular profes-
sions, for instance, is accorded worth based on core purposes such as
health (medicine) or justice (legal professions).
This also engages feelings, and thus requires critical reflection on the
affect. What part do feelings play in driving any judgement, and do we
understand them and own them? Hence, taking responsibility for the
affective aspects of the self is also key to agency. Williams (1989) makes
38 The Practice of Integrity in Business

the distinction between emotions and feeling. Emotion involves feeling

which intrudes and controls the person. Anxiety or shame, for instance,
can be felt so intensely that the person responds to them without under-
standing their genesis or how they are influencing her. Inevitably with
such emotion, the boundaries of the self are felt as indistinct and insecure.
This is contrasted with dispassionate feeling, which involves an engage-
ment with feelings which allows an exposure of the self, ‘freed from all
compulsions to keep itself safe or keep itself under control’ (ibid., 11).
Such detachment allows emotions to be engaged positively (cf. Goleman
2005, Solomon 2007). In turn this requires a critical awareness of how
feelings relate to key values, worldviews and ideas.
Narrow views of self-worth, focused on closed groups, tend to be dom-
inated by emotion and by the impulse to distinguish the worth of the
group from those outside the group (Cohen 2001). With this comes a
loss of awareness and appreciation of external groups and with that any
sense of service to the wider society. Understandings of value and worth
therefore also radically affect perception, both of actual data and of the
meaning of data. Energies here are focused on location (demonstrating
one’s place in the world) rather than engagement with the wider world
(cf. Markham 2003). How the affective aspect of identity is handled is
key to integrity precisely because it clarifies the motivation of individuals
and groups.
If worth is related to self-esteem, it is also related to the esteem of an
organization (Stets and Burke 2014). Indeed, the different levels of worth
are connected. The worth of a professional organization, for instance, is
expressed centrally in what Airaksinen (1994) refers to as the pre-moral
values, such as health (medical profession), justice (legal profession) or
learning (education profession). These are all values which can be con-
nected back to a vision of what it means to be human, and thus of any
idea of human flourishing. By definition, this takes such organizations
beyond the narrow interests of their group and sets the value of the
profession and its members in shared values, and how they relate to wider
social and physical environments.
Worth, of course, remains contested, as indeed it should be. Boltanksi
and Thévenot (2006) note six orders or regimes of worth (civic, mar-
ket, inspired, fame, industrial and family) which provide criteria for
 2 Integrity and Agency: Being True to the Self 39

ascribing worth to person or action, raising the possibility of conflicting

‘worths’ and thus the need to develop ways of justifying worth. There is
insufficient space in this book to engage Boltanksi and Thévenot fully.
Nonetheless, it is worth noting that they do not address the affective link
of identity to worth, and thus the importance of testing affective and rela-
tional narratives which may hold views of worth in place and motivate
persons or groups.1

Practice

Practice is often seen as value-neutral. In this view, testing practice

demands an awareness of one’s actions and of the effects of those actions
on the social and environmental context. None of this prescribes a par-
ticular response. What it does demand is awareness of what one is doing
and of how it affects others.
Practice, however, is always value-laden. As Ford (1999) notes, all
action involves communication. What practice communicates is precisely
the values and purpose at the heart of the person, organization or wider
project. Here the practice of integrity cannot be confined to putting into
practice the intentions that have been stated (behavioural integrity).
There may be other significant meanings which individuals or leaders
have excluded or not engaged, but which others remind them of. Hence
the power of the public reaction to the UK MPs’ expenses crisis. The elec-
torate felt that they had been betrayed because the practice with regard
to expenses in many cases was contrary to the shared view of the purpose
and worth of MPs, focused on service to society. The response from many
MPs was that they had followed behavioural integrity, meaning they had
followed expectations mediated by rules or by accepted practice. This is
the ‘I ain’t done nothing wrong, guv’ argument. The resounding response
was that this did not represent the practice of integrity, and that the MPs
had forgotten their core identity and purpose.
This also suggests that the relationship between meaning and practice
is two-way, not simply ‘applying’ value to practice. The very practice itself
1
This includes engaging cultural, political and organizational narratives which may be held in place
by power structures.
40 The Practice of Integrity in Business

tests the stated meaning, and opens it up to dialogue. The dialogue in the
case of the MPs began to move back to wider questions about pay, and
whether it was fair in the first place, but by that time the case, and still
more importantly the relationship with the electorate, had been lost.
This also locates integrity in a developed sense of reflective practice.
Schön (1983) and Gibbs (1988) both see professional practice as involv-
ing reflection on and development of practice in its wider context. Schön
(1983) noted, through observation of a range of different professions,
that in practice there was a response which led not to an imposition
of knowledge but rather to a ‘reflective conversation with the situation’.
What emerged was a process like this:

• analysis of the situation in order to work out what the problem might
be and what issues are involved
• noting ‘appreciative’ or value systems which help to find significant
meaning in the situation.
• consideration of overarching theories that might provide further
meaning
• an understanding of the professional’s own role in the situation, both
its limits and opportunities
• the ability to learn from ‘talkback’, which involves reflective conversa-
tion about the situation.

The professional would also treat clients as reflective practitioners.

Gibbs (1988) takes this further, in reflecting on the feeling involved
as well. Far from being value-neutral, practice always takes place in the
context of relationships and thus ethical value. The values underlying
reflective practice, which also tie ethics to competency, include:

• the person taking responsibility for his/her own ideas and values, and
how they relate to practice
• responsiveness to the situation, enabling dialogue with the client and
stakeholders
• awareness of the professional’s role and limitations
• respecting the autonomy of the client
• the value of continued learning
 2 Integrity and Agency: Being True to the Self 41

Relationship with the Social and Wider Environment

Whatever the relationship we should have to the social and physical

environment, there is no doubting that we do have such a relationship.
How much responsibility we take for that environment will take us into
what Ricoeur (2000) refers to as positive responsibility. In this mode of
responsibility the key questions are about awareness and appreciation of
the social and physical environment and our relationship to them. In the
credit crisis there was a lack of awareness of the wider community and
connections to it. The thinking of leaders was insulated. Merrill Lynch
and WaMu, for instance, built large portfolios of mortgage-related securi-
ties that were based on the assumption that housing markets were local-
ized, and thus that failure in one area would not affect other areas. The
credit crisis, however, showed that markets were interconnected, linking
Kansas to Shanghai, and thus that leaders need to be aware of the possible
effects of any practice.
Critically, awareness of the wider community was linked to the values
held in the credit crisis. Alan Greenspan, for instance, claimed that he
was unaware of any data prior to the credit crisis that would cause him
to question his ‘ideology’. Since the 1970s, however, there were over 120
bank-centred crises globally. Most of these followed booms in house prices
and markets, and all of them showed similar characteristics (Carroll and
Mui 2008). This suggests either that Greenspan did not know this data
or that he knew about it but denied the significance of it. In other words,
he still could not ‘see’ it. Either way he was not practising integrity, by
not taking responsibility for his awareness of the wider community. In
this case his belief about the invisible hand of the market caused him not
to understand either the nature of an interconnected finance industry or
the significance of the various failures. In a sense this mirrors exactly the
individualist belief of Rand, which was still in place for Greenspan after
the crisis. Equally, he was not able to see the same blindness there in the
practice of the different parties to the crisis, including the regulators.
Black (2013) notes how the regulators in many cases did not even access
relevant data before giving excellent credit ratings. Greenspan was not
able to recognize the pervasiveness of fraud.
42 The Practice of Integrity in Business

This suggests a lack of connection to reality, and the question I posed

above. In Chap. 3 and the final chapter I will argue that this is a sign of
psychological pathology, fixation with a dominant idea and losing touch
with reality. One example of reality in the human experience is that risk
cannot by totally prevented, only managed. Companies such as LTCM
and AIG claimed that their portfolios and securities were risk-proof. Even
disregarding the subprime base of the securities, the very idea of a finan-
cial instrument as being risk-free is problematic. Much of the belief in the
lack of risk was founded in the mathematical modelling that was behind
the development of the CDOs (see Lanchester 2010, 97). This showed
that by selling on the debts the firm was no longer responsible for ensur-
ing repayments of the debts. This reinforced little sense of responsibil-
ity beyond the immediate, and no sense of shared responsibility, for the
industry or the wider community. Behind this there was another, equally
naïve, assumption, that things would not go wrong. LTCM, for instance,
thought that, even in the event of problems, it could always unwind its
projects in orderly fashion. In fact, all buyers disappeared at once.
This same lack of contact with logic and reality was there with the
people who sold the mortgages. In the example of Green Tree Finance
(Carroll and Mui 2008), the financial mismatches should have been obvi-
ous. The reality here was that customers were being consigned to a no-win
situation, where they would experience financial loss and in many cases
loss of health. Customers were not seen as human beings, and were being
discouraged from taking responsibility for informed decision-making.
Firms and sellers were abusing their power. Further up the chain, the
perception of wider society was encouraged by bonus systems for invest-
ment managers, leading to a short-term focus on immediate profit. At
no point did the firms involved appreciate the reality of the pain their
actions caused to customers, to other stakeholders or to the industry as
a whole.
The effects of this crisis have been far-reaching, and are still being cal-
culated. The IMF estimated that the resulting global economic downturn
has cost governments worldwide more than $10 trillion to bail out the
banks, with a massive adverse knock-on effect for employment, public
spending and general well-being. The only difference was that the early
mistakes were restricted to individual corporations or a small number.
 2 Integrity and Agency: Being True to the Self 43

The firms did not see any sense of connection to the wider industry. The
values and worldview held caused individuals and organizations simply
not to see the world and thus not to see the effects of their actions on
countless individuals.
Critically, then, the idea of responsibility includes responsibility for
meaning and practice. Taylor (1985) argues that self-interpretation is key
to identity. He distinguishes linguistic meaning, knowing what I am say-
ing and experiential meaning. He argues that the first of these is key to
agency, and that the meaning involves three things. First, it is tied to a
subject in relationship. Meaning does not occur in vacuo. Second, mean-
ing can be distinguished from any situation. Whilst we find meaning
in situations, such as a football game, we chose to give that situation a
meaning, often based in group values. Third, meaning is only developed
in relation to other things. Hence, value, as noted, is espoused in relation
to other value meanings. For Taylor such meaning is at the heart of mak-
ing any ethical decision.
Mustakova-Possardt (2004, 262) sums up this critical engagement in
terms of spirituality,2 which she refers to as critical moral consciousness,
involving four dimensions:

• a moral sense of identity. What are the values that form and frame me?
• a sense of responsibility and agency. This very much about having a
critical stance in relation to ideas.
• a deep sense of relatedness on all levels of living.
• a sense of life meaning or purpose.

In this light integrity involves criticality, coherence (logical), congru-

ence (between concepts, values and practice) and consciousness (of our
relational context and its significance). The re-presentation of the self
begins to emerge from that dynamic and not from imposing a predeter-
mined identity on society. But integrity, then, involves engagement with
what increasingly looks like a complex self. It is to the self that I will now
turn to explore these dynamics.

2
This refers to generic spirituality, which includes but is not exclusive to religious spirituality.
44 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Integrity, Identity and Agency

Underlying any view of identity is the concept of the self. In Hamlet,
Polonius’ advice to his son is often seen as the basis of a psychology of
integrity (cf. Schlegel et al. 2009):

This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night
the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. (Hamlet I.iii.78–80)

This suggests a fixed view of the self to which one relates. Of course,
Shakespeare offers this not as a serious view of the self, but rather as a
humorous counterpoint to the central issue of the play itself, the idea
that the self is not fixed but is the product a dialogue between very dif-
ferent narratives. Hence, Hamlet engages Christian (Wittenberg), pagan
(Norway and Denmark), classical and other narratives (Greece and Paris)
in his response to his father’s death, and works through different views
of honour and relationships before making a decision (Cantor 2004).
It is precisely the decision-making which itself constitutes identity and
thus a sense of the self (Greenblatt 2012, Burkitt 2008, Taylor 1989,
Cottingham 2010)—in Hamlet’s case, all too late.

Developing Identity

The focus on identity inevitable takes integrity into social psychology.

Erik Erikson (1963) views integrity as part of the ongoing development
of identity. For him, integrity communicates the sense of life coming
together, making sense, for the individual, as distinct from the despair
in a life that has not expressed such meaning and purpose. Central to
the development of integrity is accepting life for what it is, complex and
often in conflict, yet integrating these dynamics into a perspective which
is content with the overall meaning (Capps 2004). Erikson characterizes
this as ‘a state of peace and serenity’ (Erikson 1963), which connects
integrity to a sense of well-being.
Erikson set out a life-stages theory to explain human development,
with each stage involving transitions which pose crises of identity
 2 Integrity and Agency: Being True to the Self 45

(cf. Bridges 1980). This suggests a series of virtually continuous struggles

that have to be worked through to come to a sense of integrity develop-
ing virtues along the way. Erikson locates the development of integrity
mostly, though not exclusively, in late adulthood. Integrity here is seen as
being in conflict with despair. Friedman (1999) sums up Erikson’s view
of integrity as:

luminous, clear communication; active, involving sense of movement; cen-

tral, being present rather than peripheral; whole, not fragmented; coherent;
continuous, connected to an on-going narrative; generative, creative with a
focus on the next generation; inclusive, embracing difference; aware, without
numbness; indivisible, not divided; chosen, a sense of being called by others;
safely bounded, with identity not blurred or overrun. (Friedman 1999)

Schachter (2009) argues that the dynamism of this view of integrity

is not individualistic but related to interaction with society, culture and
the environment. Erikson suggests that questions such ‘Who am I?’ and
‘How do I fit into an adult world?’ are challenging precisely because they
demand the practice of responsibility for the self and how we see our-
selves in relationship. It is much easier to have a self-image which does
not involve interaction. Erikson, however, argues for integrity which
holds together the different relationships and their narratives which give
meaning to our lives. This suggests that integrity in the postmodern con-
text be can be seen as a form of ‘inclusiveness, retaining identity elements
in a loose confederate structure’ (Schachter 2009).

The Plural Self

Postmodern theory reinforces this idea that there is no discrete self, but
rather that there are very different ‘selves’ and that identity is socially
constructed (Burkitt 2008). At first sight this seems to rob the self of
any settled identity. However, the importance of a more dynamic view of
the self is reinforced by two things. First, it is difficult fully to know the
self. There are many aspects of the self that are not immediately acces-
sible and which demand the perspective of others (Luft 1969). In other
46 The Practice of Integrity in Business

words, the self can be known only in relationships and though dialogue.
Fawkes (2014) extends this to professional ethics in the light of a Jungian
perspective. She argues that, like individuals, organizations, including the
professions, have a shadow side and that this demands continual reflec-
tion. The ‘shadow side’ is not necessarily a malign aspect of the self, or of
the identity of the organization, but simply represents aspects of the self
which are not, or have not been, examined.
Second, such a view of the self suggests that integrity is less a discrete
individual virtue and more a relational virtue, to do with how individu-
als and organizations view and present their identity (Calhoun 1995).
Cottingham argues that this means that integrity is directly related to
developing knowledge about the self: ‘The search for integrity is a quest
of self-understanding’ (Cottingham 2009, 5). Argyris (2007) argues that
there is continual gap between what people think they are doing and
what they are doing. This is the result of a gap not between theory and
action but rather between the theory we espouse and the theory we actu-
ally act upon. The theory (what gives significance to action) we espouse
is precisely about the identity we want to present. The theory in action
is often different. One example offered by Argyris (2007) is of a man-
ager who was interviewed about how he would deal with a disagreement
with a client. His espoused theory involved respect for the client and the
importance of good data-gathering and negotiating a solution. A video
tape of the manager revealed that his theory in use involved unilateral
control, and little empathy for the client. Critically he was unaware of
this. Hence, the development of integrity requires the kind of reflective
practice which enables the critical engagement noted above (Giddens
1991, Mason 2001, Schön 1983, Gibbs 1988).
Argyris (2007) distinguishes two different kinds of learning which
relate to key values. The first is single-loop learning. This involves exam-
ining an action in relation to the core values and simply trying to make
the action more effective in relation to the value. The second is double-
loop learning. This involves critically examining the core value. For
example, a manager may have a core value of conflict avoidance. A critical
examination of this will question how appropriate this is in every situ-
ation of conflict in the workplace. The second approach is the one that
most people espouse, focused on: getting better information, free and
 2 Integrity and Agency: Being True to the Self 47

informed choice, internal commitment and shared participation. The

first approach is what most people practice. This work suggests the pres-
ence of many different narratives which makes up the self, and Ricoeur
(1992) argues that the self is constituted not simply through decision-
making but rather through engaging different narratives, and that this
involves a rewriting of the self (cf. Freeman 2015).

Narrative Identity

Ricoeur (1992, cf. Taylor 1989) develops the idea of narrative iden-
tity. This stresses the responsibility to generate meaning in relationships
through becoming the author. Narrative has a number of characteristics
for Ricoeur. First, because it engages complexity, it holds together both
harmony and dissonance, mediating sameness and difference over time
(Ricoeur 1992). Second, life is both experienced and reported, which
means that we are both author and reader (Ricoeur 1992). This focuses
on self-understanding as interpretation. Third, narratives involve both
innovation, developing new identity, and sedimentation, setting out
an agreed identity (Ricoeur 1987). Fourth, narrative identity mediates
between ‘what is’ and ‘what ought to be’. Narration occupies a middle
ground between neutral description and ethical prescription. Narrative
identity is not reducible to neutral description, and ethical identity is
also not reducible to narrative identity. Fifth, narrative identity medi-
ates between two kinds of permanence in time, between two poles of
self-identity, broadly involving sameness and uniqueness. Sixth, narrative
identity demands both reliance on a situated and bounded self (which
enables a sense of distinctiveness), and sustained scepticism about the
self. This leads to re-reading of the self and the provocation to think and
act differently. Ricoeur (1992) suggests that taking ethical responsibility
then becomes the most import aspect of the self remaining constant.
In narrative identity, the person is not merely the one who tells the
story, or merely the one about whom the story is told, but ‘appears both
as a reader and the writer of its own life’ (Ricoeur 1987, 246). Thus,
the individual is both the interpreter and the interpreted, as well as the
recipient of the interpretations. This enables awareness of otherness, of
48 The Practice of Integrity in Business

the social and physical environment and of the self as another. The reader
can begin to see the author and how the narrative is being played out in
time and space. This is close both to the idea of meta-cognition, able to
reflect on how we think, and mindfulness, awareness of oneself in rela-
tion (see Chap. 5, on the virtues). Van der Ven (1998, see also Freeman
2015) suggests that narrative enables ‘distanciation’ and thus perspective
from which to see the self in relationship, in effect to perceive the self as
other (Ricoeur 1992).

Dialogic Self

Narrativity involves dialogue, and thus as Bakhtin (1984) argues, the idea
of polyphony, of many different voices which go to make up the self. The
person becomes author of the self as he or she responds to the different
voices, in making sense of the practice and making decisions. The decision-
making and reflective dialogue on meaning provides the consistency for the
self and the basis from which development continues.
Dialogue for Bakhtin (1984) always involves truth, defined in terms of
personal involvement. Hence, he is careful to distinguish dialogue from
dialectics, the process of logical question and answer in an attempt to find
the truth of propositions (1984). Because dialogue always involves some-
thing about the self, it involves the presentation of identity. It is suffused
with values and beliefs that are attached in varying ways and which affect
what we think, the depth of our thinking and our capacity for change,
from moment to moment. Hence, dialogue both tests the understand-
ing of the self and other and reveals the self, and related beliefs and val-
ues. The very nature of dialogue, then, is central to integrity, because it
enables knowledge of the self and other, and more authentic presentation
of the self.
Dialogue, then, involves epistemology and ontology: knowledge
but also personal involvement (Sidorkin 1999). Importantly, increas-
ing understanding emerges from the collision of difference. This is not
just different ideas but different narratives, with very different relation-
ships attached. For Bakhtin this difference is most forcefully expressed
in the overall dialogue between authoritative knowing and carnivalistic
 2 Integrity and Agency: Being True to the Self 49

knowing. The first of these comprise the narratives of authority that

everyone has to deal with, from family, school, professions, institutions
and the workplace and so on. Such narratives are based on relationships
of authority which both communicate the wider group’s values and also
dominant relationships. Moral and psychological development involves
relating to these narratives over time in such a way that they can be chal-
lenged. Kohlberg (1984) noted that in later stages of development the
person becomes more aware of the different narratives outside her com-
munity and more able to engage them. Such a challenge, suggests Bakhtin
(1984), comes from the carnivalistic engagement with hitherto authori-
tative values. In contrast to authoritative knowing, carnivalistic knowing
is marked by the breakdown of hierarchies and inequalities. Social and
structural distance is suspended.
Critical to this dialogue is enabling reflection which goes beyond
unthinking compliance with authority, allowing a recognition of the
basis of positions of authority, but also a freedom from the fear of author-
ity: ‘In order to look at the world soberly, I must cease to be afraid’ (cited
in Emerson 1997, 96). The theme of fear runs throughout case studies
on governance, as I will show in subsequent chapters. It is precisely such
fear which crowds out the possibilities of dialogue and with it the practice
of integrity.
With difference comes awareness of ambiguity and incongruity. With
incongruity comes humour. Bakhtin (1984) notes the importance of
laughter in that context, and I will return to this in Chap. 5 as part of
the virtues, and Aristotle’s virtue of wit. Of course, authority and carnival
are extremes of dialogue. The point is that both are necessary, to guard
against governance which ossifies or is chaotic. The internal dialogue,
what Bakhtin calls I-for-myself, becomes critical in his view for engaging
dialogue with those outside, including institutional authority.
Adams, Bennion and Huh (1989) propose four ideological domains
(politics, religion, occupation and philosophical lifestyle) and four inter-
personal domains (friendships, dating, sex roles and recreation) which
form the framework of the dialogic self (cf. Raggatt’s 2012, and the idea
of life history). Dialogue across these domains develops multiple identi-
fications. Hermans and Gieser’s (2012) dialogical self theory sums much
of this work up, recognizing ongoing ‘oppositions to and negotiations
50 The Practice of Integrity in Business

with the other-in-the-self’. Each of the narratives and related voices needs
to be heard and questioned rather than silenced, denied or suppressed
(cf. Cooper-White 2007). In the light of this Hermans (2012) argues
that globalization is not just a reality outside the individual but also a
constituent of a dialogical self. This suggests that integrity isn’t necessarily
bound up with bringing things together, but is about engaging multiplic-
ity within ourselves.

Integrity and Identity

More light is cast on this view of integrity by Lebow (2012). He situ-

ates the idea of remaking ourselves as Western, beginning in the post-
Enlightenment Romantic philosophy of Rousseau.3 His view of modernity
(beginning in the classical modernity of the Enlightenment) is one of
imposing a ‘totalizing’ perspective which suppresses divided and diverse
identities. This encourages denial of apparently contradictory identity
narratives, projecting rather the appearance of committing oneself fully
to one affiliation. This tendency can be reinforced by how people only
show part of themselves to others, and others having no means of access-
ing other people’s reflections about themselves.
The idea of a unitary, consistent and essentially stable identity is illu-
sory, with identities as multiple, discontinuous and shifting. Lebow argues
for accepting multiple, dispersed and even fragmented (zerstreut) self-
identifications. He recognizes that this involves accepting the other in the
self and that this is ‘psychologically unsettling’, not least because it involves
exercising ‘the capacity of the subject to let itself go’ (Benhabib 1986).
Lebow (2012), then, argues for integrity which does not involve sup-
pression and denial of diversity (or other) within oneself. This confirms
integrity as focusing not on principle-based solutions imposed upon a
situation, but rather on resolution of the different narratives and related
relationships through related critical dialogue, leading to resolution. What
he refers to as ‘multiple selves’ are ‘not necessarily incoherent selves’, but
do not present themselves as uniform, seamless without ambiguity. If the

3
Though, as noted above, there is evidence of the idea in Shakespeare.
 2 Integrity and Agency: Being True to the Self 51

person can ‘renounce the fiction of consistent and stable identities’, then
organizations can do so also, something I will examine in more detail in
Chaps. 6 and 8.

Integrity and Agency

Thus far in this chapter I have suggested that integrity involves taking
responsibility for critical reflection on one’s identity or the identity of the
organization. This involves engaging the holistic and relational aspects of
the self. Engagement is not about asserting a single focused identity on the
world but about developing narrative and dialogue. Narrative is illustrated
experience, bringing together cognitive and affective aspects of meaning and
relating them to the social and physical environment. It is essentially about
learning through ongoing interpretation (hermeneutics). Interpretation
both provides ‘sediments’, statements of identity (which I will explore in
the next chapters), but also is practised in planning and decision-making,
thereby confirming developing identity. Narrative is focused over time,
showing how identity has developed and expressing the commitment over
time to people and projects. Hence, truthful and reliable re-presentation
is ongoing. Narrative also relates meaning and experience and provides a
bridge between the individual and the organization. The individual’s narra-
tive relates to the organization’s narrative above all through dialogue.
This takes us away from the idea that integrity is somehow quantifiable,
measurable or about a claim to some sort of moral perfection, and moves
to a dynamic, relational and developmental view of integrity. It suggests
that any leader, for instance, who claims to be focused on substantive
values has to open up those values, and how he or she believes they are
embodied, to the self-critical gaze, and the gaze of the wider commu-
nity—who may have a very different view of what they see. In the light
of this, any sense of agency, and with that any sense of the self, depends
not just upon core values but also upon how the leader handles the plu-
ral relations and the related plural narratives which inform or challenge
those values. Taylor (1989) suggests that agency in this involves how the
person engages personal as well as external plurality. He argues that this
involves a strong valuation that connects action to deep decision-making.
52 The Practice of Integrity in Business

The process and act of decision-making in relation to the different nar-

ratives (which go to make up ‘plural persons) involve an existential con-
stituting of the self (Taylor 1989, cf. Korsgaard 2009), something quite
distinct from having identity conferred upon the self on account of own-
ing certain values.
It is precisely the internal dialogue which develops agency, through
testing the holistic elements of different narratives, including ideas, val-
ues, worth and practice. This dialogical view of integrity does not involve
holism in the sense of smooth integration or wholeness. On the con-
trary, it involves continued struggle, and even pain, not least because as
Pianalto (2012, cf. Cottingham 2010) argues, different value narratives
are held in place by affect, sometimes providing strong motivation to
avoid even critical reflection on the different narratives. Hence, integrity
can be viewed as a managed struggle (Pianalto 2012).
Insights from psychiatry and psychology (Callender 2010, Noelliste
2003) suggest that integrity involves continued growth and learning, and
that what makes integrity come apart or fragment involves the psycho-
logical mechanisms of self-deception, denial of responsibility, the related
dissociation of the self from action and focus on defence of the self or
dominance of the other. This suggests that integrity demands avoiding
intentional deception but also testing unintended self-deception. Hence
the need for effective critical dialogue which tests out such mechanisms
and develops responsibility in the sense of agency.
This more complex dialogical view of agency takes the discussion
beyond simply behavioural integrity and beyond substantive leadership
integrity. It also develops any sense of authentic leadership, focusing on
the depth of critical engagement which brings together ethics and psy-
chology, and on the individual or organization genuinely engaging the
meaning and significance of thought, value (and related affect and worth)
and action (cf. McFall 1987, 6, and Covaleskie 2011). Cottingham
(2010) also argues that psychological theory suggests that we are essen-
tially conflicted or divided beings, in the sense of always being pulled in
different directions. The idea has cross-cultural currency, expressed, for
instance, in the Islamic moral psychology of the greater jihad. This is
not about holy war but about the internal conflict or struggle with the
so-called nafs, the source of both disorder and creativity (Kurucan and
 2 Integrity and Agency: Being True to the Self 53

Erol 2011).4 This struggle (Pianalto 2012) is both synchronistic, with dif-
ferent narratives addressed at the same time, and diachronistic, with dif-
ferent narratives addressed over time. Hence, part of the struggle might
involve narrative from childhood, which sets up values and a view of the
world which affects perception and action. Hence Fleischacker (1984)
writes of a continual wrestling with ‘forefathers’.
That struggle in itself reflects what Cottingham refers to as an ‘opac-
ity’ in mental life (Cottingham 2010, 5), caused by the fact that we are
not always aware of the nature of the conflict until it is too late. Jung (cf.
Fawkes 2014) characterizes this ‘blindness’ as involving a reluctance to
engage the irrational or affective elements of narratives associated with the
self, often the shadow side of the person or organization. As noted above,
‘shadow’ here has nothing to do with darkness in the sense of evil, but
simply the part of the self that we choose not examine. We might forget
it or repress it. The argument goes that every person or organization has
a shadow side and that integrity cannot be developed without this being
engaged. This is developed in terms of what Jung refers to as individua-
tion. He sees this as a psychological process of integrating the opposites,
including the conscious with the unconscious, while still maintaining
their relative autonomy, necessary for a person to become whole. This is
a process of transformation enabling the unconscious to be brought into
consciousness, through means such as active imagination or free associa-
tion. The area of difference would then be assimilated into the whole per-
sonality. Besides achieving physical and mental health, Jung observed that
those who achieved individuation tended to be harmonious, mature and
responsible, embodying values such as freedom and justice, and having
an awareness of the social and physical environment (cf. Fawkes 2014).

Integrity and Struggle

In this final section I want to reflect on the some of the psychological
dynamics involved in this view of integrity. These are not discrete dynam-
ics but are precisely involved in engaging different narratives, some of

4
So-called ‘holy war’ is referred to as the ‘lesser jihad’ (see Kurucan and Erol 2011, 60 ff.).
54 The Practice of Integrity in Business

which aim to dominate meaning and practice or to subvert the practice

of responsibility.
First, psychology suggests (cf. Festinger 1962) that we all try to pres-
ent an image of ourselves as constant, stable, competent and good.
Self-image is important for a sense of self-esteem and well-being. The
recent Volkswagen scandal5 came as a genuine shock to the leaders of
VW, because their self-image was one of concern for the environment. It
should not be a surprise that individuals and organizations may seek to
maintain a ‘good face’. The good face may, of course, be counterfeit. This
is a useful term, connoting imitation. The point about imitation is that
it seeks to mimic behaviour without necessarily taking responsibility for
the meaning of that practice. Imitation can, of course, be an important
part of social learning, in the context of ongoing social relationships.
Counterfeit integrity which is not focused in social learning is focused on
deception, of the self or other, whether intentionally or not. Or it may
involve a simple failure to engage responsibility. A good example of all
of these together was the leadership of the Roman Catholic Church fol-
lowing the clergy sex abuse scandal (Robinson 2011). There was recorded
concern for the ‘bella figura’ of the church, leading to a series of denials
of responsibility, as part of an attempt to defend the institution.6 There
was no attempt at a critical examination of the meaning or purpose of the
institution and/or its culture, which was built around intentional decep-
tion and injustice. I will return to this theme in the final chapter.
Second, evidence suggests that the majority of people do not want
to practice responsibility (Bauman 1989). Milgram’s experiment (2005)
reveal that almost 70 per cent of participants accepted the direction of
authority figures even where the action of the participant seemed to be
causing risk to another person’s life. The experiment involved participants
who controlled what they believed to be an electric current attached to a
person whom they could either see or hear. They could see that what they
perceived was pain in the other (who was actually an actor simulating
pain) was being caused by their actions. However, they did not consider

5
http://www.theguardian.com/business/2015/dec/10/volkswagen-emissions-scandal-timeline-
events
6
Blaming Western values, homosexuality and other groups.
 2 Integrity and Agency: Being True to the Self 55

themselves responsible for this pain. The ‘actor’ was seen as partly respon-
sible, because they got the questions wrong, in an experiment that the
participant was told was about the relationship between pain and learn-
ing. More importantly, the experiment director was a figure of authority
who assumed overall responsibility, both for the practice and the ideas
and values behind it. A minority of the participants took responsibility
for critically questioning either the values or the practice. Hinrich (2007)
suggests this is the default position in any large organization.
Underlying psychological dynamics can reinforce this, leading to a dis-
tortion of individuals’ and organizations’ views of the wider social and
physical environment. Characteristically, these involve:

• a polarized view of the world (which often involves a splitting of the

self in which the person cannot handle feelings related to the different
narratives. This might lead to a projection of aggressive feelings on to
others. This can often lead to a loss of significant data [Cohen 2001].)
• denial of the significance of events, exemplified in Alan Greenspan
• denial of connection to events and others (Cohen 2001)
• fragmentation of the world in which the person becomes alienated
from the social environment
• inability to understand how others see one, including lack of aware-
ness about our effect (and related perceptions of power) on the other.

Third, a popular way of avoiding struggling with difference is to

occupy the moral high ground. Such ascent can be practised by very dif-
ferent organizations or individuals, from major corporations, to NGOs,
to whistleblowers. However, just because someone claims integrity based
on principles does not mean that the high ground has any substance. The
integrity argument on this point suggests that the moral high ground
especially has to be tested. In Chap. 4 I will note one major corporation
which claimed the moral high ground, but which after several years began
to question the underlying position. Pattison and Edgar (2011), writing
about whistleblowing in the context of the nursing profession, point to
a narrow view of integrity which can fuel some whistleblowers. Such a
view is often based on uncritical ideologies, which reinforce a self-image
of heroism, standing up against the powerful organization. This in turn
56 The Practice of Integrity in Business

can lead to blindness about both the critical data and the organizations
involved, with no attempt to challenge critically their own perception of
themselves. Such integrity is characterized by polarization and defensive-
ness. A good example of this was Greenpeace, who felt they were acting
with integrity in boarding the Brent Spar Oil Platform (Entine 2002), only
later accepting that their ideology, and related identity as defenders of the
environment, blinded them to the actual data about the rig. They had esti-
mated a much greater extent of toxic sludge, radically affecting estimates
of how the environment would be affected. Nonetheless, true to their per-
ceived identity, they argued they would still do the same thing again.
Fourth, as the brief reflection on dialogue theory above suggests, the
practice of integrity always takes place in the context of power asymme-
try. There are different forms of power—intellectual, emotional, physi-
cal, relational, organizational and so on—which provide the context
within which people make decisions. In every organization it is precisely
the abuse of such power which can reinforce the denial of responsibil-
ity. A key part of integrity, then, is how it relates to power. The issue of
power and leadership will be examined in more detail in the next two
chapters, and the issue of corruption and the range of attacks on integ-
rity in Chap. 8.

Conclusion
The argument of this chapter has been that a first element of integrity is
taking responsibility for critically engaging the self and the ideas, values,
purpose, practice and social environment which make up the self or the
identity of the organization. This practice engages the intellect, emotions
and the physicality of the self, expressed through practice. This involves
the interaction of logical, moral, psychological and practical meaning. In
a sense this exactly reflects the developing meaning of integrity, as not
dominated by, or summed up in, any single aspect: i.e. moral, intellectual
integrity and so on. This suggests that integrity is as much about health
and well-being as it is about morality.
Hence the proper framework, engaging each of these aspects, is reflec-
tive practice. None of this was practised by Alan Greenspan, or the leaders
 2 Integrity and Agency: Being True to the Self 57

involved in the credit crisis, leading to a narrow perspective on, and thus
failure to engage, reality, both inside and outside their organizations.
The truth about the self that is re-presented is dialogic, focused in dif-
ferent relationships and their related narratives about meaning and prac-
tice. Engaging such difference is a key part of opening the self and related
intellectual and affective dimensions of the self. This suggests self-identity
which is continuously tested and developing, involving ongoing learn-
ing. Integrity in this respect requires the regular and rigorous practice
of testing meaning, worth and practice, focused on the development of
narrative. It cannot be assumed that individuals or organizations actually
know what they are doing or saying if they do not practise narration, and
own authorship.
The chapter also noted that there are pressures which work against
the exploration and testing of the self, psychological or organizational,
and the ownership of narrative. These pressures and related values can
influence how we see the world and thus how we practise, with negative
pressures leading to a loss of sight and voice, which characterized the
great governance failures. These pressures are expressed though different
narratives, not least those which try to occupy the moral or strategic high
ground.
Three things are clear, even at this stage. First, it cannot be stressed
enough that integrity is not a luxury, to be added to business practice as
usual. The practice of integrity, thus far described, determines how we
engage society, and indeed how we make any business decisions in that
society. Second, it is about the whole person or organization, including
moral identity. Third, organizational integrity can be viewed in the same
terms as personal integrity, and the two are connected around the appre-
ciation and engagement of complexity and the practice of dialogue. In the
next chapter I will move more clearly into the practice of responsibility in
the organization. Once dialogue opens up, then we move to accountabil-
ity and what that means to relationships inside and outside the organiza-
tion. The re-presentation of the self involves giving an account beyond
the self (thus going beyond simple autonomy, cf. McLeod 2005), and
giving an account presumes others to whom one owes such an account.
It is to that account I will now turn, moving from being true to the self
to being true to others.
58 The Practice of Integrity in Business

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 3
Integrity and Accountability: Being True
to Others

Abstract This chapter sets out the meaning of accountability, argu-

ing that it is central to integrity. Focusing on the case of the Mid Staffs
Hospital Trust, it explores mutual accountability for meaning and prac-
tice and plural accountability (including to colleagues, profession, client,
institution and so on). Central to this is responsibility for relationships,
being true to them. Breakdown of the practice of this integrity is charac-
terized as analogous to a breakdown of health. This view of accountabil-
ity is critically contrasted with the corporate capture of accountability,
where one contract is dominant. Narrow perspectives are then contrasted
with the complexity of businesses relationship to the social environment,
inside and outside the organization.
The chapter, then, focuses on the practice of dialogue as the means
of engaging complexity and practising accountability, illustrated by the
example of Henry V at Agincourt, and ends by noting the connection
between the first two modes of responsibility.

In the last chapter I focused on one aspect of integrity as giving an accu-

rate and faithful re-presentation of the self or organization, being true
to the self. This stressed the need to explore a more complex view of the

© The Author(s) 2016 63

S. Robinson, The Practice of Integrity in Business,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-51553-7_3
64 The Practice of Integrity in Business

self, involving the holistic self, the self as author and the self as involved
in dialogue. The evidence of the credit crisis showed many businesses not
prepared to engage with the different narratives, and so unprepared to
deal with reality. This ties integrity in with continual learning about the
self in relationship.
In this chapter I will look at the other aspect of re-presentation,
giving an account of the self or the organization, both to the self and
others. This partly involves an extension of agency, involving ongoing
answerability to colleagues, leaders, organizations, professions and so on,
focused on ideas, values, worth, practice and relationships, developing
a clear vocabulary of accountability (Trevino and Nelson 2008, Gentile
2014). This also enables greater awareness of the social environment and
its interconnectivity.
Accountability raises questions about to whom the account is to be
given and what giving an account involves. I will begin with the case of
mid Staffs Hospital Trust, and focus on multiple and mutual accountabil-
ity. This reinforces a social view of integrity: i.e. that it involves being true
to the other as well as to the self. I will then contrast this with a critical
examination of narrow business accountability, and of related narrowness
of professional accounting, and raise questions about the nature and iden-
tity of business, questions I will address more fully in the next chapter.
From this discussion will emerge the importance of how dialogue is
developed within the organization and beyond as a key means of giving
account. Far from a simple idea of behavioural integrity, as ‘walking the
walk’, this focuses on relationships and awareness of different value narra-
tives, some of which may be dominant, and constitute the moral bottom
line (often focused on core principles or purpose), others of which may
require holding in tension. The final section of the chapter will use Henry
V as an example of leadership dialogue in response to such complexity.

Mid Staffs Hospital Trust

The case study of the Mid Staffs Hospital Trust is not straightforwardly
to do with business. Nonetheless, a key element in it was how a public
organization used what it took to be good business practice to ensure
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 65

the sustainability of the organization. The case demonstrates an absence

of the practice of integrity, including inter-organizational integrity, the
integrity of the overall project and purpose. It illustrates the lack of the
second mode of responsibility—accountability to—as well as the first.
In particular, it illustrates the complex nature of accountability and how
attempts to simplify such accountability, ignoring dialogue, lead to forms
of instrumental rationality.

Organizational Breakdown
The first Francis Report (2010, cf. Campbell 2013) detailed a massive
failure in professional care for patients in the Mid Staffs Hospital in the
UK, including:

• patients left in excrement in soiled bed clothes for lengthy periods

• assistance not provided with feeding for patients who could not eat
without help
• water left out of reach
• patients not assisted in their toileting in spite of persistent requests for
help
• wards and toilet facilities left in a filthy condition
• privacy and dignity, even in dying and death, denied
• triage in A&E undertaken by untrained staff
• treatment of patients and those close to them with what appeared to
be callous indifference.

The second Francis Report (2013) tried to address the leadership and
governance of the Mid Staffs Hospital Trust. Both documents reported a
disconnect between the values and meaning espoused by the organization
and the actual practice, suggesting that many of the problems are likely
to be more widespread.1 The overview of the case suggests that there were
many voices involved in a complex situation, but little valuing of these,

1
For example, http://www.telegraph.co.uk/health/heal-our-hospitals/10130024/Name-the-NHS-
Watchdog-staff-responsible-for-hospital-cover-up-minister-says.html
66 The Practice of Integrity in Business

little dialogue and little shared meaning or sense of shared responsibility.

What meaning there was seemed to be fragmented or detached, with
individual employees left to establish their own sense of meaning from
their work, all leading to lack of critical awareness of the core values
and purpose of the whole project, and the complex relational network of
healthcare.
Key findings from the Francis report (2013 executive summary) were
summed up as:

• A culture of fear, focused on doing the system’s business;

• An institutional culture which ascribed more weight to positive infor-
mation about the service than to information capable of implying
cause for concern. When monitoring occurs it is often felt important
to get the best story across, to give the regulator what you think they
want to hear. This is because survival is predicated on success, not least
the success of the leaders;
• Standards and methods of measuring compliance which did not focus
on the effect of a service on patients;
• Too great a degree of tolerance of poor standards and of risk to patients;
• A failure of communication between the many agencies to share their
knowledge of concerns;
• Assumptions that monitoring, performance management or interven-
tion was the responsibility of someone else;
• A failure to tackle challenges to the building up of a positive culture,
in nursing in particular but also within the medical profession;
• A failure to appreciate until recently the risk of disruptive loss of
corporate memory and focus resulting from repeated, multi-level
reorganisation.

The more this story is worked through, the more echoes appear of
Enron, Arthur Anderson and the credit crisis, with a parallel disconnect
between institutional core values, locally and nationally, and practice.
The core vision for healthcare involved the good of health and well-being,
focused on inclusive care, and wider responsibilities to society, but the
practice was quite contrary to this vision. The board and management
operated in a teleopathic way, defined by Goodpaster as:
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 67

‘the unbalanced pursuit of purpose in either individuals or organizations.

The mindset or condition is a key stimulus to which ethics is a practical
response.’ (Goodpaster 2007, 28)

He suggests that the key symptoms of teleopathy are fixation, rational-

ization and detachment.
The narrow view of accountability in this case began to shape the key
purpose of the organization: viz. its own sustainability. This brought the
Trust close to what Bauman (1989) and others refer to as instrumental
rationality, involving focus on means, efficient or cost-effective, rather than
on the value of the end. The most extreme example of this is the Holocaust,
where the focus of the Third Reich was on solutions (Bauman 1989).
Such practice, nonetheless, demands rationalization: i.e. some sense of
justifying the action in terms of underlying value. In the case of Mid Staffs
this led to a focus on identity seen in terms of achieving targets and finan-
cial/organizational status, expressed in the aim of recapturing the three-star
status. A three-star rating was necessary to apply for foundation status, tying
this also to a competitive narrative with other trusts, and which was set up
by the UK government (Campbell 2013). In turn this meant that, whilst
the organization had specific values focused on care, the worth of practice
was associated rather with survival and status. In effect, this produced an
institutional version of Argyris’ (2007) espoused and actual theories.
From fixation on targets, to rationalization in terms of organizational
sustainability, this led to detachment, from wider meaning and purpose,
from other related organizations and from people. In a sense this was
more remarkable than Enron, because the neglect of patients did not
involve intentional deception.

Recommendations
The Report’s recommendations included:

• Government changes in the National Health Service should be cut

down. Frequent change serves to focus on the changes and related
actions, not the core purpose.
68 The Practice of Integrity in Business

• All practice has to focus on the patient, particularly in terms of stan-

dards, possibly through tighter codes.
• A more open and positive culture has to be developed, not focused on
narrow targets and not based on fear. This should include clarity about
core values across the institution.
• Leadership should be reinforced and shared amongst the different
professions.
• There should be clearer standards and guidance on compliance. There
should be no tolerance of non-compliance and the rigorous policing of
fundamental standards. Information about compliance should be acces-
sible and usable by all, allowing effective comparison of performance.
• The need to develop thinking laterally across boundaries; more shared
leadership with managerial, clinical and board leaders working
together; and greater transparency and willingness to give and accept
challenge. (Francis Report 2013)

The Francis Report also notes the lack of attention to responsibility

at all levels, and the reluctance to critically examine and address uncon-
scious models of leadership that are embedded in organizations, and evi-
dence that better-performing hospitals had more devolved power and
shared responsibility.

Accountability
At the heart of much of this is a lack of accountability. Accountability is
in one sense another aspect of moral agency. A lot of the stress in moral
agency is about making sense to oneself: self-justification. Accountability
is about making sense to others: a wider sense of justification. Typically
we will have different kinds of accountability, depending on the kind of
relationship we have to people or groups. Nonetheless, social identity
suggests that accountability involves dialogic engagement with the dif-
ferent relationships in the social and physical environment, and that this
cannot be restricted to a single dominant narrative.
Accountability is about being answerable to another, hence an ongo-
ing opening of oneself to judgement. It presumes a relationship of some
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 69

significance which might be embodied in formal or informal contracts of

some kind. Such contracts set out the nature (meaning) of the relation-
ship and what is expected, from function and role to ways of relating.
Integrity requires an awareness of these relationships and being prepared
to give an account of them to the other.
Accountability in the Trust was one-way and focused from the bottom
to the top, directly to the managers of the Trust. The line of accountabil-
ity then goes back to the government and in particular to the Treasury.
The characteristic pattern of one-way accountability is cultic, with ele-
ments reminiscent of the Enron case (Cruver 2003). In that case, leader-
ship was dominant and could not be questioned. Even the board, which
included many eminent figures, such as Lord Wakeham, did not ques-
tion the chair or CEO, or any of the actions which were reviewed by
the board. A second characteristic of cults is the culture of fear, which
causes members of the organization to focus primarily on the reduction
of fear, associated with achieving targets (Paine 1994). Enron leadership
developed the so-called ‘rank and yank’ mechanism, with the least pro-
ductive of the workforce fired each year. In actual cultic organizations
the dynamic involves first ‘love bombing’, in which new members come
to identify their worth and well-being as focused on the cult. This is fol-
lowed by increased demands on the person, financially and emotionally,
accompanied by threats to expel them if these are not fulfilled.
A third characteristic is to focus on compliance and control rather than
individual judgement. Thinking for oneself and framing professional
judgements in particular situations in the organization is precisely what
is discouraged. Hence, there is an increase in isomorphism. This leads
to the fourth characteristic: a polarized dynamic, defending the orga-
nization against people and organizations outside it. The organization
becomes the locus of value and truth, and reality is perceived in terms
of those outside as against the truth. The CEO of Enron expressed that
dynamic through characterizing himself, albeit jokingly, as Darth Vader
and his immediate staff as storm troopers (Cruver 2003).
Finally, this typically leads to depersonalization of the different stake-
holders. This radically affects how members of the organization view the
different stakeholders of the organization and related practice. In actual
cult cases the members of the cult becomes exclusively accountable to the
70 The Practice of Integrity in Business

head of the cult and stop being accountable to family and former friends.
In the Mid Staffs case, patients and their families were ignored. When
staff received complaints, these were dismissed, in ad hominen dynamics,
as problem patients, or data was said to be misconstrued, leading to both
pain and humiliation (Boseley 2010). Families were not given an account
of practice or of what this signified. Staff were not open to challenge or
question, typically because in a cult dynamic they were more concerned
to please the line manager. All communication therefore was aimed at
giving the best possible view of data: in effect self-promotion (Francis
2013, 44), not a critical reflection on the case in hand.
In Enron’s case this dynamic led to fraud, involving intentional decep-
tion, and intentional ignorance. Hence, the CEO and chair demanded
certain targets be met, but refused to take responsibility for knowing how
these were being achieved. In the case of Mid Staffs there was not the level
of fraud, but the focus on the financial factors made institutional survival
the rationalization for their practice. At the heart of this was a lack of
accountability to all of the stakeholders from the key professions and
managers. Behind much of this was an imbalance of power, which dis-
couraged weaker stakeholders from holding staff and leaders to account.
Without the practice of mutual accountability any attempt to
re-present the truth of the organization is lost, and with that key rela-
tionships are broken.

Mutual Accountability

The lack of mutual accountability in the Mid Staffs case extended to the
different professions, different institutions (including the government), the
patients, volunteers, families and different regulators. All these groups were
responsible for what might be termed the project of health. Hence, all were
accountable to each other for the project. The mutuality was supposed to be
expressed in different ways. Regulators were accountable to the government,
professions and others, to give an account of their findings. Ultimately, they
were accountable with others to the patient and to the wider community, to
ensure that right level of care was maintained. Key regulatory bodies, how-
ever, raised the alarm without ensuring that a practical response occurred
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 71

(ibid., 45 ff.). They assumed that other bodies would take responsibility
for this. Some regulatory bodies were focused on finance and financial and
institutional responsibilities, others on care, with little sense of how they all
connected or how different narratives had to be critically sustained. Audits
had no sense of holistic or responsibility connection.
The dynamic here was essentially one that lacked mutuality. Reports
go one way rather than leading to dialogue and action. Mutual account-
ability demands that value narratives of all parties be shared. It is precisely
the appreciation of different perspectives and values (Bauman 1989) that
guards against a totalizing perspective, and with that a loss of truth. The
truth in the Mid Staffs case should have been focused on the overall nar-
rative of care, which was meant to sustain the core purpose, with all par-
ties accountable to each other for that purpose.
It is perhaps not surprising that the second Francis Report reflects a
sense of shock that the nursing profession in particular did not speak
out—that is, did not practise accountability to different professions or the
patients or the wider community. The Francis Report (2013) focuses on
the teleopathy of the nursing professional, the Royal College of Nursing
(RCN), moving from functioning as a professional body to becoming
a trades union. The latter focuses on the support and protection of its
members, with a defensive stance, guarding against any possible nega-
tive action from management against its members. This remains a strong
value narrative, not least concerned about an abuse of power from lead-
ership that might disadvantage the workforce as a whole. However, this
prevented the RCN at the time from fully functioning as a professional
body: i.e. one that was aware of its accountability to all stakeholders for
the project of care. Such a body would be expected to provide a focus
on the good at the base of the profession, a disinterested perspective on
professional practice and a strong framework of critical reflective prac-
tice and professional discipline. A pre-emptive response to the second
Francis Report came from the Chief Nurse, producing a philosophy of
care for nursing, based on compassion, care, competence, communica-
tion, courage and commitment.2 These are an important reminder of the

2
http://www.england.nhs.uk/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/compassion-in-practice.pdf. Accessed
2/2/13.
72 The Practice of Integrity in Business

core good and associated values and virtues of nursing. And there is no
doubt they needed to be reasserted. However, equally important was the
lack of the practice of mutual accountability, and thus the lack of dia-
logue with other stakeholders. The identity of nursing is not simply based
on the core values set out by the Chief Nurse, but also on the engage-
ment with the different narratives that make up the healthcare project.
All the groups involved fell down on this precisely because they did not
feel responsible, accountable, to each other for the project. Doctors were
not able to have dialogue with nurses about patients, nurses were not able
to have dialogue with families about patients and so on. The fixation on
a dominant narrative led to a fragmentation that was a breakdown not of
a system per se but of relationships (cf. Thorlby et al. 2004, 23ff.). Hence,
critical questions were not raised until too late.
Central to the loss of integrity was the lack of any critical leadership.
The Trust board provided none in terms of their internal dialogues,
unable even to engage key warning signals (Francis 2013, 41) provided
by some major professional bodies. Allied to the absence of critical lead-
ership from the board was, then, a lack of critical and holistic leadership
from all the professional bodies. The lack of mutual accountability for the
core purpose meant that they were not communicating the truth to each
other about that core purpose in practice.
The UK Government was a significant part of that failure in mutual
accountability. The broad assumption is that the Government is account-
able to the electorate. However, in the Mid Staffs case they were precisely
accountable to the patients and staff for instituting a focus on narrow
targets, and for allowing a system of regulation that did not focus on
mutual accountability for the shared project. The Government was also
responsible over time for instituting too many major changes in practice
and process, with the effect of focusing professional attention further
on process and targets, rather than on the overall shared purpose of care
(Francis 2013). This had the effect of a form of teleopathy generated by
the Government. In healthcare in general this has involved a focus on sav-
ing costs rather than on best-care practice. As Seddon (2014) argues, this
often has the unintended effect of wasting money and bad practice, as in
the use of call centres for initial diagnosis. Critically, there was no articu-
lation of the narrative of the overall project, or of the related purpose and
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 73

worth at any level. The narrative was assumed, and not therefore part of
the ongoing professional reflection. Without the articulation of such a
narrative mutual accountability begins to erode, because it is based on
accountability to each other, which is both horizontal (collegial) and ver-
tical (spanning the power relationships).
The case suggests that value, purpose and worth are not engaged unless
there is regular account given of these, reinforcing mutual accountability.
This demands ongoing articulation and justification of values, and con-
sciously using such values in work vocabulary, such that they are genu-
inely engaged in decision-making. Without this conscious engagement
with values it is possible to lose the identity, and with that the integrity,
of the organization, or in this case the overall project and the different
organizations which were a part of that. I will examine this in terms of the
governance developments in Chaps. 6 and 7.

Plural Accountability

Just as the person may be said to be plural, so the organization may be

said to be plural. Good examples of this are professional institutions.
These relate to the different narratives of clients, members, corporations
or other organizations which members work in, other professions who
may share a wider purpose, and future generations (through the differ-
ent creations, from bridges to healthcare facilities). They also relate to
wider society through the good which forms their key purpose and thus
their identity (Airaksinen 1994), such as health and well-being for the
medical profession or justice for the legal professions. The identity of the
profession is thus a function both of moral underpinning and of ongoing
dialogue with the different relationships.
Plural accountability simply reflects the different relationships and their
associated narratives which go to make up the social interactions of personal
or organizational life. Our accountability to family is expressed for many in
the formal contract of marriage, for others in different expressions of com-
mitment. The associated narratives are both about the nature of that commit-
ment, and, in the case of marriage documents, the commitment of society to
such relationships. This multiplicity is highlighted in the professions.
74 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Professions are, of course, ambiguous. The major professions embody

power in relation to vulnerable clients and can easily abuse that power for
the protection of their status or even from good intentions (cf. Illich 1977).
Nonetheless, the major professions are characterized not just by special-
ized skills, high levels of training, power and impartiality (focused core
purpose) but also by the focus on an underlying good (Airaksinen 1994,
Browning 1983). The good of the health professions is to do with the dis-
tribution of health and well-being, and it establishes the purpose of the
profession. In the light of that good, professions exhibit plural account-
ability which reflects relationships to different stakeholders. From the
perspective of the individual professional this can involve accountability
at the same time to:

The profession
This is essentially the accountability a professional has to the profession for
his/her own professional performance, including ongoing learning and
supporting the values of the professional body. Hence, it is possible to
speak of the professional as being responsible for the integrity of that pro-
fession: i.e. maintaining the core values and purpose of the profession.
Oneself
This includes developing and maintaining personal development
throughout working life and ensuring a proper balance between
work and personal life.
The employer/corporation
This involves: being accountable to and responsible for the performance
of duties to an employer—so long as they are consistent with the pro-
fessional code.
The client
This includes giving impartial and competent advice and reporting any
conflicting areas of interest. The key aspect of this accountability is
enabling the client to take responsibility for a decision about their
work, treatment and so on, based on a truthful communication of the
data and an awareness of the significance of that data.
Environment and the community
This includes awareness of the overall social and physical context of work,
and the impact of the project on society and the environment.
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 75

Other groups or professions

This includes links to the wider industry, which in turn may be account-
able to wider society (cf. Robinson and Kenyon).

The Mid Staffs case showed none of this plural accountability. Different
professions, organizations and even regulators did not feel accountable to
others, even when, in some cases, they saw what was happening. The idea
of feeling accountable is important, because it takes us back to identity,
in this case as focused on multiple relationships, and to the related feeling
of worth.

Being True
If integrity is viewed as the accurate and reliable re-presentation of the
self, this involves both being true to the self and being true to others.
I will explore this in a little more detail in Chap. 5. At this stage I
simply want to underline that thinking. The professions and institu-
tions in the Mid Staffs case were not being true to their professional
selves because they had lost sight of their core purpose: i.e. what was
significant about themselves. This meant that they were also not being
true to the any of those involved in the project of care. In effect the
professionals were betraying those relationships. The relationships were
significant because they were focused on the meaning and practice of
care, and the professions (including politicians) had not owned that
meaning or practice of care. They had not practised self-governance or
accountability. The truthfulness of those relationships demanded truth
as knowledge (the facts of the situation), truth as meaning and purpose
(the significance of any action), and truth as commitment (being true
to) the project (and its core purpose) and to the people involved. Being
true to project and people, pace Francis, is not simply about focusing
on the patients but also about how mutual and plural accountability
is practised across the piece. This aspect of integrity, then, is not sim-
ply about individual ownership of meaning and practice but about
shared ownership of meaning in the context of different and complex
narratives.
76 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Breakdown
The Mid Staffs case can be characterized as a breakdown of meaning
(moral and practical) and relationships. Care practitioners who ignored
patients in sometimes extreme need were literally not in their ‘right
mind’, and did not even think to practise the broader sense of account-
ability. There was no engagement with the complexity of narratives in the
Trust, and with that a lack of awareness of the distinct professional narra-
tives that could effectively work together to share responsibility.
The term breakdown intentionally suggests pathology. McKenna
and Rooney (2011) have argued that organizational breakdowns of
this sort are actually a form of institutional schizophrenia, in the sense
of multiple personality. In fact, they mischaracterize the term ‘schizo-
phrenia’. Multiple personality or dissociative identity disorder refers to
a form of guilt-induced clinical hysteria where distinct personalities are
unconsciously created to avoid either guilt or memory of earlier trauma
(Halligan et al. 2001). Schizophrenia rather refers to a ‘breaking down’
of the mind, losing touch with reality, often involving a paranoid view
of the world. It literally involves a breakdown in the person’s capacity to
make shared and realistic meaning in relation to their social network,
sometimes involving auditory or visual hallucinations. There is, then, no
capacity for genuine dialogue, and thus all meaning becomes insular, self-
referential. Use of either of these terms is analogical in this context.
In the Mid Staffs case and others examined so far, there is a strong
sense of the second view of breakdown: a breakdown of meaning and
relational connection such that there is no sense of the significance of the
organization in relation to the wider social and physical environments
(dissociation), a defensiveness which sees external relations as some form
of threat, and a breakdown in awareness and connection to the social
history and responsibility of the organization—a form of organizational
‘madness’. The term ‘madness’ recurs in narratives about the credit crisis.3
It is ironical that psychosis, especially schizophrenia, is often associated
with ‘hearing voices’ (Robinson 2013), something characterized as nega-
tive. In fact, the breakdown in Mid Staffs was precisely because the many
3
Cf. the DVD The Inside Job, 2010.
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 77

voices were not ‘heard’, or their meaning was not understood. The voices
of the different professions, the key regulators, the nurses, the families
and, above all, the patients, were deemed to be not part of reality. This
resonates with some views of leadership. Furnham suggests that break-
down in the organization is often associated with psychopathic person-
alities.4 There may be cases where a psychopathic personality can be very
effective as a leader (Furnham 2004), not least in times of crisis, where
immediate action is called for. However, over the long term, the effect
of psychopathic leadership is to break down meaning and awareness,
and thus break down relationships, inside and outside the organization.
The original term for psychopathy was ‘moral insanity’ (ibid.), indicat-
ing what is now seen as a personality disorder, where the individual has
no awareness of or empathy for others, or for wider social meaning and
values. Where leadership encourages such lack of awareness, this can lead
to forms of collective pathology, where perfectly good people suspend
critical thinking, and act also without empathy.
It should come as no surprise, then, that such breakdowns occur. At
one level, meaning, as we have argued, is more than rational or concep-
tual or practical. It involves identity and worth in relation to the social
network, values and thus feelings and emotions, and a narrow internal
culture can lead to a real disconnection with reality. This breakdown con-
nects directly to the fragmentation of organizations (Rozuel 2011), and I
will examine this in more detail in Chaps. 6 and 8.
This underscores two key points. First, significant meaning is socially
constructed; and second, we are all responsible for articulating and sus-
taining that meaning. Leadership which does not attend to these core
levels of meaning (conceptual and practical) on a regular basis always
runs the risk of breakdown. At its worst, this involves leadership that
focuses on narcissism, the needs and narrative of the leader, with others as
means to that end. In the Mid Staffs case there was a corporate disintegra-
tion of meaning, based on power and the fear of the leader. It might be
argued that, given the difference in power between follower and leader,
a child/parent dynamic is established, with followers taking the role of
child, acceding all power and responsibility to the parent (leader), and

4
Adrian Furnham, The Elephant in the Boardroom (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2004).
78 The Practice of Integrity in Business

primarily concerned to please the parent. This is precisely why leadership

has to develop the critical and mutual dialogue noted in the last chapter
inside and outside her organization. I will illustrate the dynamics of such
dialogue shortly, but first I will consider the traditional arguments against
this practice in business.

The Purpose of Business

It is, of course, possible to have a quite different perspective for busi-
ness: if you will, the non-profession view of business. Sternberg (2000),
for instance, argues from what she takes to be an Aristotelian perspec-
tive that business has but one purpose (as distinct from a moral or pre-
moral good), which is to make profit for the owners, or principals, of the
business. The classic presentation of this argument was from Friedman
(1983). The role of business is the creation of wealth, and thus the prime
responsibility of business is to make a profit for its owners. In this, the
executive director acts as an agent (defined here as someone who works
on behalf of another) serving the interests of ‘his principal’. The interest
of the principal is profit maximization, and involvement in any activities
in the community outside this sphere by the agent would be a violation
of trust and thus morally wrong. Friedman does not argue against the
social involvement of the company as such, rather, simply, that the com-
pany, and the owners especially, can decide to do whatever they think
is fit. There is no moral or legal obligation on the company to be more
socially involved, and the company can follow its own ends, so long as
they are legal. Three things follow on from this. First, if the company
executive does decide to get involved in a community project, Friedman
argues that this is not an obligation but rather a means of achieving the
company aims, such as improving the image and reputation of the com-
pany and thus contributing to improving profits. Second, for Friedman,
pursuing social responsibility would involve costs that would have to be
passed on to the customer, possibly to the shareholder in reduced divi-
dends and to the employee in reduced wages. This is deemed to be unfair,
constituting a form of taxation without representation and is therefore
undemocratic. Moreover, it is both unwise, because it invests too much
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 79

power in the company executives, and futile, because it is likely that the
costs imposed by this approach will lead to a reduction in economic effi-
ciency. Finally, he argues that the executive is not the best person to be
involved in making decisions about social involvement. S/he is neither
qualified nor mandated to pursue social goals. It is social administra-
tors and policymakers that understand the needs of the local area and
who can determine local priorities. Such a task is better suited to local
government and social concern groups, whose roles and accountability
are directly related to these tasks. For business to enter this field would
lead to a confusion of roles and a raising of false expectations. In short,
Friedman is saying that for the business person to be true to the self and
others, it has to be based on a narrow view of the core relationship, pre-
cisely avoiding engaging complexity.
There are a number of criticisms of this view of responsibility. First,
seeing profit maximization as the exclusive purpose of business is simplis-
tic. Managers may have several different purposes, each of equal impor-
tance: care for shareholders, clients, the physical environment and so on.
Shareholders may want profits, but they could be equally concerned for
the environment or for the community in which they live. This can only
be tested in dialogue with each group, and in the light of the nature of the
business and its effects on society. Second, there is an assumption that the
ethical worlds of social concern and business are quite separate. In fact,
the two are connected. The actions of a company affect the social and
physical environment in different ways, demanding an awareness of those
effects and a capacity to plan for positive effects (beneficence) respond
to negative effects (non-maleficence). Third, it is difficult to predeter-
mine what the exact responsibility of the business person or the business
should be, just as it is impossible to be precise about the responsibility
of, for instance, local or national government. In practice there are broad
responsibilities, but these are continuously being debated and negotiated.
In Chap. 8 I will note how in the global context the role of nation-
states around human rights, for instance, is a matter of debate. Fourth,
underlying Friedman’s argument is a stress on freedom. In this case it
is the freedom of the business person to pursue the purpose of making
profits. His view of freedom involves largely negative freedom (Berlin
1968). In this case it is freedom from control, or the need to respond to
80 The Practice of Integrity in Business

any ethical imperative other than the good of the firm. Friedman simply
asserts this view of freedom, with no attempt to justify it. Berlin (1968)
notes other views of freedom, including positive freedom, freedoms that
enable groups and individuals to do things, such as rights. In any case,
all freedoms exist within a social context where any assertion of freedom
may affect the freedom of others (Tawney 1930). Behind that, there is for
Friedman a worldview of a fragmented society which is neither intercon-
nected nor interdependent. Hence he can only see two ethical impera-
tives for the business person: to keep the law and to make profits. Any
good beyond that is purely instrumental.
The attempt, then, to restrict business to one purpose, and from that
to restrict the breadth of its responsibility, is thus arbitrary. Moreover,
predetermining responsibility tends to lead to a diminution of the capac-
ity to take responsibility, to maintain awareness of the effects of practice
on the social environment and to respond.
Sternberg (2000, 49ff.) argues against stakeholder accountability on
several grounds. First, it is not at all clear to which stakeholders a com-
pany is accountable or what this might involve. Simply to say that a
company has to be accountable to its stakeholders does not begin to dif-
ferentiate what accountability might mean in any particular relationship.
Being accountable to clients or customers, for instance, is very different
from being accountable to local government. Second, the argument that
firms are accountable to the stakeholders assumes that the firm should
respond to the demands of the stakeholder by fulfilling its needs. Hence,
the idea of accountability involves some idea of entitlement. It is not clear
that stakeholders are entitled to have their needs met, or even if their view
of needs is acceptable. Third, it is likely that the interests of stakeholders
will conflict at times. How does the firm resolve this? There are no clear
criteria for saying which claims should be prioritized.
However, the idea of accountability does not require that all stakehold-
ers are entitled to have their perceived needs fulfilled. This is an example
of a straw man argument. The logic of giving an account depends upon
the relationship, and this will be different across the stakeholders. The
relationship of the firm with the client or customer, for instance, involves
concern for both standards and care. Hence, accountability is about
working through continual improvement. The criteria of account around
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 81

standards may be set by the industry, including safety and marketing.

In the case of the alcohol industry, this will involve issues such as how
to focus on responsible consumption (cf. Robinson and Kenyon 2009).
The firm is also accountable to the law. Laws themselves may embody a
sense of the civic identity of the firm, which sees it as accountable to the
wider community for the social and physical environment. Sternberg’s
argument fails to grasp the interconnectedness of relationships and pur-
pose. Most organizations are in a position of having to handle quite com-
plex multiple and mutual accountability. A commissioning firm is, for
example, a stakeholder to the tendering firms and vice versa. Equally,
each company would have some very different stakeholders, with differ-
ent and sometimes conflicting values. The company is accountable to its
shareholders, but also to its customers. By extension, the government and
wider industry might hold them to account for professional standards,
and even some non-governmental organizations and consumer associa-
tions might call them to account for the effect of their products.

Integrity and the Nature of Business

Integrity begins to work through meaning, practice and accountability
in relation to a complex social and physical environment. This means
that each firm, large or small, will have to work through its particular
integrity. There is not a one-size-fits-all nature of business. In some cases
this will be based on complex relations with professions and professional
bodies. Engineering firms, for instance, relate directly to professional
bodies which, as noted above, define their identity in terms of responsi-
bility to clients, the profession, the wider society and its future well-being
(Robinson et al. 2012). Accountability, then, does not involve a simple
‘line’. It is worked out in the plurality of relationships within and outside
any organization. The difference between forms of integrity is reflected
in the different nature of the relationships. Hence, accountability it is
not fulfilling the needs of stakeholders as defined by them. It is, rather,
a function of dialogue in relation to the complexity of relationships.
Sometimes that accountability involves mutual and plural accountability
for meaning and practice. Hence, the ICAEW (2009) stressed the role
82 The Practice of Integrity in Business

of accountancy firms in sustaining trust and transparency in the wider

finance industry. This is partly about the provision of clear and truthful
information to enable choices to be made. It also involves clarity about
significant meaning and purpose, and commitment to the relationships
within the industry and beyond. In effect, the ICAEW is arguing that
the functioning of the whole financial system relies upon the practice
of integrity. This not about fulfilling stakeholder needs but rather about
being true to stakeholders and enabling responsible practice.
The Sternberg/Freidman arguments assume that business is a single
entity with one voice. Integrity from such a perspective would involve ful-
filling one’s accountability to that single/collective author. However, busi-
ness has many different voices, even within the organization, which connect
directly to the wider society, reflecting an organizational analogue of the
dialogic self. This is expressed clearly in the credo of Johnson & Johnson,
in terms of explicit responsibility to front-line medical practitioners and
consumers, employees, communities and, finally, shareholders.5 The first
of these shows a complexity of relationships, including with the supply
chain. Even in this first section accountability is expressed in terms of the
quality and moral value of the relationships. Accountability to suppliers
and distributors highlights an obligation to enable them to make a fair
product. Integrity, then, is seen in terms of maintaining such relationships
and the moral meaning involved in them. The complexity is highlighted
by the relationship to the medical professions. These provide a strong sense
of common good, as noted above, to which the business implicitly relates.
Most importantly, this tells us that a business can begin to focus on the
wider good through reflection on the nature of the business.
The second section of the credo focuses on the employees, and begins
to unpack in some detail what it actually means to relate to them.
This includes several references to justice and fairness, to enabling the
responsibility of employees and to a sense of mutuality at work. Hence,
being accountable to employees demands judgement on the part of the
employer about how they will fulfil this relationship.
The third part of the credo moves into responsibility to the commu-
nity. This sets out the relationship of the firm to the community: one of

5
http://www.jnj.com/about-jnj/jnj-credo
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 83

citizenship. Alongside any notion of philanthropy there is another con-

cern for justice, in relation to tax. Wider responsibilities to the environ-
ment also begin to emerge, which I will focus on in the next chapter.
With the final section we see the relationship to shareholders:

Our final responsibility is to our stockholders. Business must make a sound

profit. We must experiment with new ideas. Research must be carried on,
innovative programs developed and mistakes paid for. New equipment
must be purchased, new facilities provided and new products launched.
Reserves must be created to provide for adverse times. When we operate
according to these principles, the stockholders should realize a fair return.6

First, this places the shareholders last in the accountability list. Second,
even this relationship involves fairness. Taking just this argument alone,
in the debate with Freidman and Sternberg, it suggests that, even if it
were conceded that business had but one purpose, making a profit, there
are still issues about the extent and nature of that profit. Third, the focus
is on the enterprising nature of the organization. This adds to what is,
in effect, the development of the identity of the organization, as a con-
tributor to the common good, as employer, as citizen and as entrepre-
neur. Each aspect of this identity is linked to core relationship, and each
involves core moral considerations, from fairness to respect. The account-
ability aspect of integrity then suggests that truthful self/organizational
re-presentation, is not about ‘doing the right thing’. The concept of the
‘right thing’ presumes that there is a singular thing and focuses on the
moral act. Self-presentation focuses, rather, on identity and the relation-
ships involved in that. The truthfulness of that presentation involves,
then, giving an account of the identity and relationships, and working
through what is involved in those relationships. Working that through
demands the exercise of judgement about how the relationships should
be fulfilled. This includes judgements about fairness in all significant
relationships.
In a commentary on the credo Alex Gorsky, Chairman and CEO,
notes that it provides the compass, but says that what is also required is

6
http://www.jnj.com/about-jnj/jnj-credo
84 The Practice of Integrity in Business

the road map, the Code of Business Conduct. In Chap. 6 I will note how
these begin to work together to develop the culture of the organization.
Gorsky stresses the importance of awareness of an increasingly complex
world. Hence, ‘we all must remain vigilant that our words and actions
reflect the right behavior’.7 Key to this is giving an account of values
and purpose, and the development policies, procedures and guidelines,
all of which provide additional guidance on expected behaviours: ‘Our
actions, words and behaviors do matter.’8 However, even such a state-
ment requires challenge. Given that the credo was instituted in 1943, it
is perhaps time to review it, along with stakeholders.
The credo illustrates plural accountability in business. Alongside this
are other narratives, each of which provides a different perspective and
anchor points around values and purpose. There are, for instance, many
professional bodies that may be part of any management structure. One
such is human resources, focused on the development of human capi-
tal and well-being at work. Related to this is a developing professional
body, the CIPD, which seeks to professionalize practice. Like all profes-
sional bodies, it has a Code of Conduct, in this case setting standards for
behaviour as well as aspirations.9 At is heart is something about enabling
the practice of integrity at an individual level, and how freedom is to
be found in organizational practice. This is part of the sustainability of
the organization, often focusing on leadership and trust. Alongside this
is financial sustainability focused often on members of the accountancy
professions, as noted above. Even the PR profession has professional bod-
ies—the UKCIPR10 and the USPRSA11—which increasingly focus on
the wider good of communications. There is a proliferation of profes-
sional associations, all of which offer identity, protection and reflection
on the good.12

7
https://www.jnj.com/sites/default/files/pdf/Code-of-Business-Conduct-English-US.pdf
8
Ibid.
9
https://www.cipd.co.uk/binaries/5740CodeofConduct.pdf
10
http://www.cipr.co.uk/content/about-us/public-relations-register/cipr-code-conduct
11
https://www.prsa.org/aboutprsa/ethics/codeenglish/#.VqzHxvmLTDc
12
http://www.totalprofessions.com/profession-finder
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 85

Brown (2005, cf. Cox et al. 1999) develops this theme of complexity,
setting out the five dimensions of corporate integrity inside and outside
the firm—cultural, interpersonal, organizational, social and natural:

Cultural focuses on difference and disagreement in meaning,

Interpersonal focuses on integration and wholeness, with quality of rela-
tionships in the organization as being primary, expressed in an outlook
of interdependency rather than separation.
Organisational, focuses on consistency or alignment between organiza-
tional purpose and conduct.
Civic, involves the relationship of the organization to wider civic society,
and the development of a cooperative relationship with private and
government agencies.
Environmental, focuses on institutional and environmental sustainability
and the responsibility for the future of both.

Integrity in this light demands both commitment to core relation-

ships but also awareness and appreciation of the plurality of relationships
that form the social and physical environment. Brown views integrity as
wholeness, evidenced in the quality of the organization’s relationships:
what Srivasta and Barrett (1989) refer to as ‘the wholeness of the interac-
tion’. For Brown, then, the key strategy in achieving cultural integrity is
dialogue, which is bound up, he argues, with openness.

Complex Integrity and Dialogue

Brown introduces dialogue through Pearce’s (1989) typology of commu-
nicative practices, involving:

Monocultural communication—such patterns of communication can

often be seen in traditional cultures ‘where no one seriously questions
the community’s basic beliefs’ (Brown 2005).
Ethnocentric communication—where there is awareness of but little
engagement with different perspectives outside the organization.
86 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Modernistic communication—involving discovery of new experiences,

along with other customs and beliefs.
Cosmopolitan communication—giving primacy to coordination rather
than coherence, and stories from all sources are welcomed with a view
to seeking and finding meaning, which for the cosmopolitan is always
more than any one source can provide.

Brown challenges corporations to look at their own communica-

tion practice, inside and outside the organization, in the light of these
approaches. He drills down to the dialogue at the heart of cosmopoli-
tan communication, arguing that it takes seriously the holistic elements
(Brown 2005). The possibilities of dialogue, then become:

• seeing others as different—and hearing others as a distinct voice

• asking questions of inquiry—in the sense of revealing that you don’t
know the answer
• acknowledging another’s resources—honouring experiences, talents and
skills one doesn’t have
• exploring the unknown—to learn more about a topic or subject
• developing thought—moving into what constitutes ‘un-thought’
territory
• gaining self-understanding—seeing ourselves in the communication we
have co-created.

This picks up on dialogue theory, in particular the sense in which dia-

logue and articulation through narrative enable the person or organiza-
tion to hear and see better their core meaning, echoing E. M. Forster’s
bon mot ‘How do I know what I think until I see what I have to say’ (cited
in Adams and Hamm 1990, 121).

Engaging Dialogue
It is clear that integrity defined in terms of transparency, in the sense of
reportage, is not sufficient (cf. O’Neill 2000). Giving an account and
developing mutual and multiple accountability demand dialogue, and
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 87

a dialogue across several different levels, inside and outside the business.
This dialogue engages core purpose, narrative, broad values (such as the
narrative of justice, which I will examine in detail in Chap. 6), differ-
ent narratives which have to be held together (e.g. sustainability of the
organization and the social and physical environment), procedures which
embody purpose and values, and account, which brings out mutual
accountability for the purpose and values.
In Chap. 6 I will be looking at the way in which dialogue can bring
together shared meaning, developing and presenting shared identity. In
the remaining part of this chapter I will examine the dynamic of dialogue
in engaging the different narratives, and its importance in enabling truth-
ful reflection on the principles and practice of the organization and being
true to the different relationships.
Dialogue recognizes the significance of different voices. This is not
simply encouraging diversity—i.e. respecting different cultural views—
but, rather, hearing different narratives in relation to the institution or
project. The different narratives— professional, cultural and so on—pro-
vide the basis for challenging leadership. Hence, they are key to learning
and development. Their articulation demands the leaders of the institu-
tion reflect and give an account of what they are doing, and what the
values and purpose of that are. This is partly about clarification but is also
about relationships. Holistic dialogue brings together accountability for
ideas, values, worth practice and relationships.
Complexity in recent years has been summed up in the acronym VUCA
(taken from US military thinking, see Bennett and Lemoine 2014). VUCA
stands for ‘volatility’, ‘uncertainty’, ‘complexity’ and ‘ambiguity’. These terms
sum up aspects of complex relationships. They express not just different
narratives, but different attitudes which demand exploration. Ambiguity,
for instance, expresses uncertainty about how another person or group per-
ceives people and projects. There is more than one interpretation of moti-
vation, values, perception and so on. Ambiguity is embedded in human
relationships. Sometimes it requires clarification, sometimes holding differ-
ent values in tension—embracing ambiguity (de Beauvoir 1997). At other
times ambiguity may be consciously used strategically to avoid engagement
and deny responsibility (Eisenberg 1984). A good illustration of this takes
VUCA back to the military and to Shakespeare’s Henry V at Agincourt.
88 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Henry V
The St Crispin’s Day speech (Henry V, Act IV), famous for its spectacular
rhetoric, is not a discrete ‘event’ but part of ongoing dialogues throughout
the plays of the Henriad.13 Central to those dialogues has been the nature
of a king, trust in leadership and the meaning of honour. Different nar-
ratives of honour come from Hotspur (as personal reputation), Falstaff
(as without worth to the ordinary man) and Henry V (as focused on shared
worth and purpose).
The meaning explored in these dialogues is much more than getting
ideas and values right. It is attached to worth. Indeed, honour is a matter
life or death (Council 1973). How the troops and, by extension the whole
campaign, are seen is critical to their identity and sense of worth, and will in
turn affect their practice. In disguise, the evening before Agincourt, Henry
visits his troops (‘a little piece of Henry in the night’, Henry V, Act IV). His
disguise is critical to enabling mutuality in dialogue. Unexpectedly he finds
the troops wanting to hold the king to account (though, of course, there
was no formal way of doing that), because they fear he will sell himself
for ransom and so dishonour their dead fellows. Values and purpose are
tied by them to identity and sense of worth. The pre-Agincourt moment
of dialogue is one of volatility and uncertainty, with tensions unresolved,
partly because Henry cannot show his true identity.
That dialogue, with echoes of Falstaff and Hotspur running through
it, continues in a different context the following day. The dialogue is
between Henry and the French herald on the field of battle, both sur-
rounded by the English troops. Who is Henry speaking to? The herald,
Hotspur, whom he admired, Falstaff and, perhaps above all, his troops.
One can feel their unspoken recognition of Henry, as he turns down the
herald’s offer of ransom, confirming their worth, and shared purpose. Far
from being simple behavioural integrity—doing what he said he would
do—this is a multiple dialogue which leads to an account, and with that
an increased understanding, of significant meaning and practice, and
the allied significance of the relationships. This reminds us of Sidorkin’s
(1999, cf. Bakhtin 1981) insistence that dialogue is neither a tool of
13
Richard II, Henry IV parts 1 and 2.
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 89

communication nor simply about information but, rather, is about rela-

tionships (ontology) mutually revealing identity. More than the rhetoric
of the St Crispin’s Day speech, this is what establishes trust, something I
will return to in the final chapter.
This offers a view of dialogue which differs from Habermas (1992).14
He tends to focus on reaching agreement based in rationality and sym-
metricality, and focused on a bounded dialogue. Henry’s example, rather,
suggests that dialogue is holistic, plural and continual. It is, if you will, ‘in
the air’, and part of giving an account is to recognize that, and lock into
those dialogues. For Henry, even these multiple dialogues are framed with
others, focused in his identity, with the Lord Chief Justice (Henry IV Part 2,
Act V, scene ii), with bishops about grounds for war (Henry V, Act V, scene
ii), with his father (as heir and son Henry IV Part 2) and with God (on the
nature of kingship Henry V, Act V, scene i). These are ongoing, and struggle
with ambiguity and conflict, sometimes confirming identity, sometimes
challenging and developing identity—always around meaning, purpose,
worth and practice. There is no simple solution of a problem, but rather
a resolution through engaging the different narratives focused on action.
As with the Mid Staffs case, this suggests that the meaning of value,
worth and relationships can never be assumed. Once dialogue is opened
up, these are always tested. For Henry this involves both formal and infor-
mal ongoing account, developing a narrative. His big St Crispin’s Day
speech before the battle of Agincourt is often seen as a discrete mono-
logue, and the way in which the rhetorical structure is set out seems to
confirm the sense that it has been rehearsed. The speech itself addresses
value and worth, partly through imagination and how his troops would
be honoured in their communities, partly through engaging agency in his
troops by offering a choice to leave (albeit not one that could be taken),
and partly the focus on mutual worth and shared honour:

And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be rememberèd;

14
Who rightly argues for communicative action (focused in relationships) rather than instrumental
action, goal-oriented behaviour.
90 The Practice of Integrity in Business

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;

For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition. (Henry V, Act IV, scene iii)

However, the speech is made in the context of the many different dia-
logues and emerges from the immediate dialogue amongst Henry’s lead-
ers expressing anxiety about the ‘fearful odds’. This locks into the other
dialogues noted above, not least because all contribute to the relationship
between Henry and his troops. The speech locks these dialogues into a
framing narrative of honour, itself imagined in different communities.
The dialogues are framed by boundaries of power which Henry works
across. For Henry this sometimes involves informal contracts where the
king gives permission to characters to articulate advice or challenge and
even give critical input.15 His earlier dialogue with the Lord Chief Justice
sets this out where Henry asks him to guide him in the law, as does his treat-
ment of trooper Williams (Henry V, Act IV, scene iv, and Act IV, scene viii).
Williams had challenged him when in disguise. When they meet again,
Henry, whom Williams now recognizes, rewards the earlier challenge with
money. Through this he establishes the possibility of mutual accountability
through dialogue which is asymmetrical. He enables a mutuality across
the different power divides. In the workplace asymmetricality of power
is ubiquitous, across colleagues, professions, managers, leaders and so on.
Extending the point made in the last chapter about dialogue wrestling not
just with meaning but with power, this demands the development of means
of enabling such dialogue which recognizes authority and spans power.
This directly relates integrity to power and to the dispersion of power, in
effect the dispersion of self-governance in the workplace and beyond.
Critical to the dispersion of power is the dialogue linked up to differ-
ent anchor points, around key values, above all honour, key relationships,
around law, kingship and battle, the present and the future, the affective
and the cognitive. These clarified and established shared meaning and
sustained relationships.
15
Such contracts can also be formal and also can involve the establishment of boundaries. Hence,
Henry newly crowned in Henry IV Part 2, Act V, scene v, firmly places Falstaff’s outside the bound-
ary of dialogue (reflecting Falstaff’s nihilistic perspective).
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 91

Rehearsed or Unrehearsed Dialogue

There is no doubt that the Crispin’s Day speech has the quality of an
unrehearsed conversation. This is partly because Henry picks up on the
conversation about the need for more men. In doing this, he is demon-
strating that he has heard both his troops’ argument and their anxiety,
and is prepared to respond. He models a faithful and focused response.
In one sense the speech has been rehearsed, not least because he brings
with him the unresolved dialogues from the previous evening, with the
troops and with God. The first he could not resolve other than through
public statement as the king; the second he could resolve through put-
ting faith into practice—hence the final line before battle is addressed
to God. What is unrehearsed is the context, and being open to specific
questions.
Oakshott (1962) begins to focus on the feelings associated with genu-
ine dialogue, in his case in the context of higher education. He suggests
that universities enable conversation with different narratives, mediated
by teachers, fellow students, professional bodies and so on. This extends
the identity beyond narrow utility, enriching meaning and practice. At its
centre is the ‘unrehearsed intellectual adventure’ of a critical conversation.
The word ‘adventure’ reveals that this conversation also involves feelings,
associated with learning and development. Three things make this unre-
hearsed quality important. First, it confirms genuine responsibility for
ideas, values, worth and how these relate to practice. This is a mark of
authenticity that the leader does not have to refer back to a text, and that
she has worked through the core ideas and values. This confirms that the
leader is the genuine narrator. Second, the dialogue is focused on open-
ness to personal encounter, not simply to rational ideas. Sacks (2007)
uses the German term Zwischenmenschliche (‘genuinely interpersonal’),
suggesting that such dialogue does not attempt to change the other, but
that both are changed by the very act of reaching out (cf. Brown 2005).
Third, by being open to dialogue, this a partial demonstration that there
is no deception, intentional or otherwise, going on. This is precisely what
was missing, indeed intentionally avoided, by the leadership in the great
crises of governance and leadership over the past two decades.
92 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Perhaps the key issue around accountability and the question of integ-
rity is that it involves judgement. By giving a public account of meaning
and practice one is opening oneself up to judgement. It is not surprising
that theology in most religions spends so much time on judgement, ulti-
mate and literal. However, any major business will always be judged, by
social media, civil society, the law, shareholders, future society and more.
The different groups in the Mid Staffs case feared such judgement and
sought to avoid it by not taking responsibility or being accountable, and
thus blaming others. At every level the kind of human dialogue laid out
above was missing, and the key to that dialogue is that it allows a mutual-
ity of judgement.
The case of Henry V suggests several things. First, integrity links directly
to the wider debates about leadership and complexity noted above.
Second, volatility, uncertainty and ambiguity link directly to relation-
ships and holistic meaning. Third, in addition to VUCA there is conflict.
Some writers suggest that this might even be ‘cooked’ to point up differ-
ence and thus achieve better performance (Heifetz et al. 2009). However,
Henry’s case suggest that conflict is already there in relationships, in the
experience of difference, and that the way of engaging is through dia-
logue which enables both individual and institutional narrative to be
developed. This and the focus on paradox will be developed in Chap. 7.

Conclusion
The last chapter focused on integrity as being true to the self. This chapter
has focused on being true to others, though accountability. The two are
connected. Accountability without agency can lead to instrumental ratio-
nality, in which targets dominate and there is a lack of (and in some cases
an attack on) critical thinking and awareness of the immediate environ-
ment, its worth and the worth of the practice. Agency without account-
ability can lead to individualism, and loss of a sense of the public self,
open to account. Indeed a stress on self-governance alone can lead to a
stress on retrospective and negative responsibility focused on the avoid-
ance of culpability, polarization and defensiveness. Without truth to self
and others, in terms of commitment as well as honesty, there is little
 3 Integrity and Accountability: Being True to Others 93

grasp of reality and shared sense of truth. Hence, lack of the practice of
integrity can lead to breakdown of meaning and with that reality, a state
analogous to mental illness.
These interconnected modes of responsibility provide a far more
complex view of integrity, one which holds together: agency; relational
awareness and responsiveness; and plural narratives. Consistency asso-
ciated with integrity is found in the consistent practice of reflexivity,
accountability, and in engagement with the holistic aspects of the differ-
ent relationships. This also suggests a view of integrity which is focused
not simply in clarifying ideas, values, purpose and worth but also on
the actual relationships involved and the meanings of those relationships
(which are part of individual and organizational identity). Because of
this, alongside any sense of common good, key relational values of justice
and respect come increasingly to the fore. They are part of leadership and
governance, because they are part of any power relationship.
Different narratives add to the richness of the relationships but are
also part of the test and clarification and reflection. Hearing the differ-
ence intensifies self-reflection. This reinforces the argument that whilst
one can distinguish personal, professional and procedural integrity, all
are related, because they focus on the interconnected identity of the indi-
vidual, the profession and the institution of practice.
All of this offers a dynamic view of integrity in which it is about engaging
complexity. It suggests that integrity is fundamentally social and not indi-
vidualist in a narrow sense, and that it has to engage with difference, both
in terms of different groups being engaged in shaping shared purpose and
in terms of different values being held together. In Chap. 6 I will explore
how a culture of such integrity can be established in a corporation. Before
that I will turn to the third mode of responsibility, positive responsibility.

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 4
Integrity and Positive Responsibility

Abstract This chapter begins to explore the third mode of responsibil-

ity: responsibility for. The importance of this mode of responsibility is
that it moves us specifically into the ‘walk’, the taking action of integrity.
However, as we might expect from the reflection on the other modes of
responsibility, it does not supply us with any easier guidance for integrity.
The case of Nestlé is used to introduce the complexities of responsibility
in practice. This will introduce positive responsibility (as distinct from
legal liability), moving beyond accountability, into responsibility for proj-
ects, people, purpose or place.
Some the great post-Holocaust thinkers argue from this for a sense of
universal responsibility. Jonas takes this further, arguing for a sense of
ultimate accountability to and responsibility for future generations and
the environment. The chapter details that responsibility in the light of
the Nestlé case and how it informs a view of proactive integrity which
involves: a sense of multiple responsibility for clients, colleagues, pro-
fession, community and so on; the assumption of responsibility in grey
areas not assigned to roles, avoiding denial of responsibility; further
development of ethical identity through negotiation of responsibility;
the development of shared and mutual responsibility as distinct from

© The Author(s) 2016 97

S. Robinson, The Practice of Integrity in Business,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-51553-7_4
98 The Practice of Integrity in Business

shared interest; focus on positive creative action through the increase in

possibilities and pathways, further developing identity; and the practice
of justice and sustainability through shared responsibility.

In exploring the third mode of responsibility, this chapter takes the idea
of integrity beyond soundness or wholeness in a limiting sense to engag-
ing with a proactive responsibility for the exercise of moral imagination
and moral enterprise. ‘Walking the walk’ in this sense involves the explo-
ration of how the ‘talk’, the value and meaning, can be brought to life.
The Nestlé case study will give an example of how such responsibility can
be learned, and how the truthful re-presentation of the self/organization
can involve precisely going beyond image presentation into identity
re-creation. This will culminate in a brief reference to one of Nestlé’s
recent initiatives around water.

Nestlé Baby Milk Substitute and International

Marketing
The so-called ‘Nestlé Case’ began in the I960s. The case focuses on the
work of Transnational Corporations (TNCs), in particular Nestlé, and
how they market products in the Third World. It presents a difficult mix-
ture of issues: questionable marketing practices, injustice, poverty and
healthcare priorities.
Whilst the case had come to the attention of the public in the 1970s,
the underlying history begins much earlier, focused on the need for
alternative nutrition for babies whose mothers could no breast-feed.
Hence, in 1867, Henri Nestlé developed a formula which aimed to
be suitable for infants ‘fulfilling all the conditions sought for by physi-
cians’ (Nestlé 1869). In the twentieth century breast milk alternatives
were increasingly commonly used and, in the USA in particular, hit a
sales peak in the 1950s. In the 1960s there was a decline in the birth
rate leading to a major fall in the sales. Throughout this time there was
intense competition between five major companies: Mead Johnson, Ross
Laboratories, Wyeth Laboratories, Nestlé and Borden. Mead Johnson
and Ross Laboratories had cornered 90 per cent of the American market,
 4 Integrity and Positive Responsibility 99

but Nestlé were the world leaders with over 50 per cent of the global
market (Newton 1999).
With the declining western birth rate, the companies began to focus on
the soaring birth rates of developing countries. In doing so, they began to
cross what had been a boundary between commercial and pharmaceuti-
cal industries that had been in place in the developing world, with food
companies advertising directly to the consumer and with pharmaceuti-
cal companies promoting their goods primarily to the health profession-
als. Their marketing strategy had several elements. First, booklets were
produced which gave advice for pre- and post-natal care, including pic-
tures showing correct feeding methods and recommendations for ‘mixed
feeding’. This approach was both informative, aware of breast-feeding
(though some versions hardly mentioned it), and extolled the excellence
of the product. Second, sustained radio advertising, posters and informa-
tion and pictures on cans again gave the impression of the importance
of breast milk alternatives without initially mentioning breast-feeding.
Third, promotional offers included free samples of the formula. Free
samples were also supplied to hospitals, a promotional technique known
as ‘dumping’. Fourth, the formula industry worked through the medical
and healthcare professions, including employing milk nurses to advise
mothers on children’s nutrition. Fifth, milk banks were set up in some
areas to sell formula at reduced prices to poor mothers, at discounts of
between 33 and 40 per cent (ibid.).
This promotion of formula was making use of three connected changes
in the developing nations to reach a wide audience: increased urbaniza-
tion, which maximizes product visibility; a growth in medical services;
and an increase in live births in health centres and hospitals. Not surpris-
ingly this led to a series of criticisms of the industry. It was argued, for
instance, that the use of health professionals in the work of education led
to what D. B. Jelliffe (1971, 55) described as ‘endorsement by associa-
tion’ and ‘manipulation by assistance’. In some cases the health worker
might be influenced by the promotion to accept the claims of bottle-
feeding. In others the simple fact that posters and cans were on display in
the hospital gave the impression that the product was being endorsed by
the medical staff. The use of milk nurses, in particular, was problematic.
Despite the claim to be essentially educational, they were, however, in a
100 The Practice of Integrity in Business

unique position to influence the mothers, especially if they were on com-

mission for formula sales. At the very least, the practice raised a conflict
of interest.
Above all, it was argued, the promotional techniques ignored the
deep vulnerability of mothers in the developing nations, focused on
poverty, lack of hygiene and illiteracy. Mothers left hospital with a lim-
ited amount of free formula and continued to use it, leading to breast
milk drying up. Because of illiteracy the formula was not always mixed
correctly, often involving the use of unsterilised water and resulting in
diarrhoea. This meant the baby was unable to absorb the nutrients in
the formula, leading to death from malnutrition and dehydration. The
milk banks were not a solution to the problem, as the poor could not
afford even these prices. Criticisms such as these came together in the
work of D. B. Jelliffe, who proposed the term ‘commerciogenic malnu-
trition’ (ibid.). Jelliffe argued that the increase in infant mortality rate in
the Third World and the decrease in breast-feeding were directly con-
nected. The United Nations Protein Advisory Group recommended that
the three major stakeholders—the formula industry, paediatricians and
governments—take responsibility for ensuring that this situation was
addressed.

The Global Debate

In March 1974 the debate became global through Mike Muller’s

pamphlet The Baby Killer. This was a broad restatement of an arti-
cle which appeared in New Internationalist (Hendricks and Morely
1973). Muller’s article focused less on appropriate uses of milk sub-
stitute than on the problems of marketing. A subsequent translation
(ADW, Third World Working Group) entitled the article ‘Nestlé Kills
Babies’. Nestlé’s response was to sue ADW, leading to a two-year court
case, which they won (ibid.). However, instead of global concern being
dampened down, there was increased collaboration between inter-
national health organizations and concerned groups, including the
churches and NGOs, which led directly to a worldwide boycott of all
Nestlé goods in June 1977.
 4 Integrity and Positive Responsibility 101

Nestlé was greatly concerned for its reputation, and it tried to give a
better account of its position. First, in evidence to a US Senate hearing,
Oswald Ballarin (head of Nestlé Brazil) characterized those responsible
for the boycott as ‘ a world wide church organization with the stated
purpose of undermining the free enterprise system’ (quoted in Sethi
2012, 76). Second, key professionals were targeted, including 300,000
clergy and community leaders, trying to directly refute the allegations.
Third, after a meeting between the World Health Organization (WHO),
UNICEF and the formula companies, there was the development of
some initial guidelines on practice. The intention was to develop a full
code of practice for marketing. Nestlé argued that they were already
following these guidelines. This signalled a change in approach, urged
by new PR consultants, aiming to avoid confrontation. Finally, Nestlé
tried to align itself with and fund ‘independent’ research into child
nutrition, and began to work with an industry council to try to develop
self-regulation.

The WHO Code

The World Health Organization Code on marketing took until May

1981 to be ratified. Progress was stalled by communication difficulties
and disagreements in the ‘formula’ industry, not least about the interpre-
tation of the basic data on morbidity and mortality of babies in the devel-
oping nations. Nonetheless the Code was passed, was accepted by Nestlé
and formed the basis of marketing practice. Its regulations included:

• All direct advertising and sampling to consumers should be stopped.

• Labels should carry the advice that breast is best and there should be
no text or picture that idealized the formula.
• Marketing should continue, but only if it did not undermine
breast-feeding.
• Health authorities in member states should educate health workers on
the benefits of breast-feeding.
• Donations could be made to healthcare workers but not as sales
inducements.
102 The Practice of Integrity in Business

• Employment of milk nurses was to be stopped, and industry personnel

were not to receive any reward for the volume of formula sold.
• The responsibility of complying with the Code and whatever legisla-
tion resulted from it in any particular country was to be left to indi-
vidual governments.

End of the Boycott

At this time Nestlé began to widen its non-adversarial approach. It entered

into dialogue with the American Methodist Task Force, set up precisely
to review this issue in detail. This set up the Nestlé Coordination Center
for Nutrition (NCCN), serving as an information and dialogue centre
for key issues in nutrition. By May 1982 the continuing dialogue led
to the development of the Infant Formula Audit Commission. This was
to act an independent monitoring agency around the WHO Code, and
chaired by Senator Edmund Muskie. Nestlé’s practice was now seen as
increasingly transparent and in line with the Code. Hence, support for
the boycott of Nestlé products began to wane, leading to an official sus-
pension in October 1984.

The Second Front

It appeared, then, that the issue had been sorted out through the Code,
the various forums and the audit commission. This led gradually to a
decrease in allegations about bad practice and an increase in integrated
working, leading to a scaling down of the NCCN, and eventually of the
Muskie Commission. Various NGOs feared that this signalled attempts
by Nestlé to get round the Code (ibid.).
Though the practice of supplying free formula to the health centres
was neither banned by the code nor illegal, Nestlé remained commit-
ted to end all such supplies in developing countries, except for the lim-
ited number of babies who needed it. The result of such initiatives was
mixed. Some organizations, such as the Church of England (in 1994),
suspended their support for boycott. Others demanded tighter control
on interpretation of the Code. In part this was driven by WHO and
 4 Integrity and Positive Responsibility 103

UNICEF’s goal of universal breast-feeding. This led to further pressure

on Nestlé especially from UNICEF. UNICEF (1993) issued a document
called An End to Ambiguities. In an attempt to end ambiguities UNICEF
expanded the code, without consulting either WHO or the industry. The
first response from Nestlé was to argue that this went against the Code.
Hence, far from resolving ambiguities it led to further wrangles.
In 1996 Carol Bellamy, the new head of UNICEF, suggested that
UNICEF and the formula companies meet to discuss their sales policy
and practice, country by country. Bellamy argued this was the only way
in which transparency could be achieved and ambiguities resolved. The
action, however, was stalled because of the danger of violating US anti-
trust laws.
Meanwhile, a new activist coalition was formed: the Interagency
Group on Breast-Feeding Monitoring (IGBM). Without fully consulting
the formula industry, IGBM issued a sizeable document called The Code
Handbook, aiming to provide the definitive approach to interpreting the
Code, and even providing a model law for countries to adopt. Supported
by UNICEF, this led to a document called Cracking the Code (IGBM
1997). The document, aiming to present independent research into the
controversy, detailed Code violations over a period of twelve months, and
recommended that marketing policy should be altered. Nestlé responded
with detailed questioning of methodology, noting that, even if this were
accepted, the report included few details of Nestlé transgressing the code.
Once more, then, common understanding, even about data collection,
proved to be elusive. UNICEF moved away from dialogue with the for-
mula industry, and even extended this to criticizing the International
Paediatric Association for its discussions with the industry.

Whose Responsibility?
At the heart of the Nestlé case study is the integrity of this corporation
and its leaders. This clearly mattered to them. This is why they took their
accusers to court. Nestlé’s view of integrity, however, was defined by strict
legal liability, by a narrow view of what they were responsible for and by
the vision and values of their corporate history. Nestlé clearly believed
104 The Practice of Integrity in Business

that in taking on the New Internationalist (NI) they were practising with
integrity. This involved several aspects. First, their identity was fixed in
their role as international retailers. From that they held the basic value
that they had a right to practise with freedom from constraint (cf. Berlin
1968). Second, Nestlé believed that production of infant formula was a
social good. Henri Nestlé in 1867 began producing infant formula for
babies who couldn’t be breast-fed. Third, the company questioned the
veracity of NI. In this light, recourse to law was a reasonable response.
Fourth, it was committed to operate within the law of the countries
involved, and to ensure product safety. For Nestlé this included com-
mitment to research both the need for breast-milk substitute and the
quality of the formula. It also accepted the need for truthful marketing.
Advertising should not make claims for the product which were inaccu-
rate or misleading. Finally, it was concerned to identify and answer the
consumer’s needs.
This then involved the practice of ‘reasonable responsibility’, in which
the corporation saw itself as responsible for its core activity and little
beyond—other than relations with the customer. However, it is precisely
this view of integrity which led to the breakdown of the relationships.
First, it led to myopia in the Nestlé approach. They saw the developing
world as a market and the stakeholders as operating with the same free-
doms, including freedom to choose, as Western stakeholders. Hence they
had no sense of the social or cultural complexity, including the issue of
Third World poverty and related questions of social justice. At their most
basic, these arguments support the need for practical wisdom and social
and political awareness when entering a market place which is politically
and culturally different from the First World nations. Nestlé, however,
was not ready for such a debate, and certainly not one which raised dif-
ferent views of justice.1
Second, they had little sense of the effects of their own actions. This is
partly because they had no sense of what their responsibility was in this
situation. Without a wider sense of connection to the social environment

1
De George notes that debates about justice are a key feature in international business ethics; R. De
George, International Business Ethics, in R. Frederick (ed.), A Companion to Business Ethics
(Oxford: Blackwells, 233–242).
 4 Integrity and Positive Responsibility 105

they were not able to appreciate how their actions interacted with a com-
plex situation. Third, in the light of the first two points Nestlé’s view
of responsibility was mostly in the legal mode. If this is the exclusive
focus of responsibility, then it begins to focus on the question of who is
responsible for a particular action (Ricoeur 2000). As Ricoeur reminds
us, this is where the law operates, and hence Nestlé were happy to take
this issue to court to determine who was actually responsible for the
death of babies. Exclusive focus on this the leads to a defensive position
and usually to polarization of the debate. This is exactly what occurred in
Nestlé’s response to the coalition of NGOs, where they were character-
ized as Marxist who were aiming to overthrow free enterprise. It is always
problematic to make general points about a coalition because most coali-
tions involve many different narratives. More importantly this was an ad
hominem argument, aiming to re-present and defend Nestlé’s identity.
There is even a suggestion that Nestlé, along with free enterprise, were the
victims. The mutual demonization that resulted from this led to further
myopia, including an inability to see each other as part of the solution to
the issue. Fourth, from a polarized position Nestlé had no critical aware-
ness of the wider complexity of the situation, in particular of the WHO’s
and UNICEF’s argument for the primacy of breast milk and defence of
children’s rights, or how that might relate to the ongoing debate.
Finally, Nestlé showed no evidence of understanding how they were
perceived or how perceptions of their identity affected the dynamic of
the debate. Hence, when they hired nurses to work with the mothers,
they did not realize that this was perceived as an attempt to influence
the patients. More broadly, when they began to realize how they were
perceived, they responded by seeing this as a PR exercise and trying to
influence key professionals such as the clergy in the UK. Key to much of
this was the perception of the power of Nestlé and the way in which this
was being used to influence figures of influence. In ad hominem dynamics
it is precisely the perception of power which fuels the polarization. I will
return to this in the final chapter and the case of Siemens.
The problems with Nestlé’s integrity came to a head in the 1978 con-
gressional hearing on global formula marketing practices. Senator Ted
Kennedy (TK) interrogated a Nestlé representative (N), resulting in the
following uncomfortable exchange:
106 The Practice of Integrity in Business

TK: ‘Would you agree with me that your product should not be used
where there is, uh, impure water? Yes or no.’
N: ‘Uh, we keep all the instructions—’
TK: ‘Just, just answer. What would you—?’
N: ‘Of course not …!’
TK: ‘Well, as I understand what you say is that where there is impure water
it should not be used.’
N: ‘Yes.’
TK: ‘Where the people are so poor that they’re not going to realistically be
able to continue to purchase it, which is going to mean that they’re
going to dilute it to a point which is going to endanger the health,
then it should not be used.’
N: ‘Yes.’
TK: ‘Well now, then my final question is what do you do, or what do you
feel is your corporate responsibility to find out the extent of the use of
your product in those circumstances in the developing part of the
world? Do you feel that you have any responsibility?’
N: ‘We can’t have that responsibility sir’ (quoted in Oyugi 2012, 14–15)

The exchange illustrates well the inadequacy of basing integrity purely

on a defensive view of responsibility. Most tellingly, the Nestlé repre-
sentative was so determined to defend the company that he appeared
to be losing any coherent thought. This was partly because of the inter-
rogation context, partly because of fears about the admission of respon-
sibility forming the basis of a legal challenge but also partly because he
did not understand the nature of Kennedy’s challenge. He assumed that
what Kennedy was doing was blaming Nestlé, whereas he was using the
term responsibility in a different way. Ironically, the responsibility which
Kennedy talks about is not massive, a responsibility to find out how the
product is being used in the developing world. I suspect than, even as
the Nestlé representative denied that responsibility, he was very unsure
about what he was saying. Importantly, such responsibility is itself part of
the first and second modes of responsibility, an awareness of practice and
effects that the corporation has or might have on the social or physical
environment, and the capacity to give an account. This brings us to the
key idea of the third mode, responsibility for.
 4 Integrity and Positive Responsibility 107

Responsibility For
Birnbacher (2001) distinguishes ex post from ex ante responsibility. The
first involves ascription of blame, the second commitment to respon-
sibility for projects, people or place, focused in the future (cf. Ricoeur
2000). The latter positive responsibility works against attempts to limit
responsibility arbitrarily. Each person or group has to work these out
in context, without necessarily an explicit contract. Working that out
demands an awareness of the limitations of the person or organization,
avoiding taking too much responsibility and a capacity to work together
with others and share responsibility. The foundation of this, however, is
acceptance of broad positive responsibility. Levinas (1998) suggests that
the Enlightenment stress on the autonomous self sets up a false bound-
ary. This preoccupation with the self leads to a preoccupation with power
and image. Any sense of responsibility for the other is, then, always sec-
ondary. Hence, he argues that all ethics begins with responsibility for the
other.
Jonas (1984) views this as an imperative which is there for all. He
contrasts ethics in the late twentieth century with the ethical turn from
Greek thinkers to the Enlightenment. The traditional ethical theories,
principle-based, utilitarian and virtue, tended to focus on the action of
the individual in response to the immediate ethical challenge. Moreover,
this was focused on reciprocal action in the human realm. The long-
term future was out of human reach and thus ethical concern. Hence,
the future was the domain of fate or deities. They would determine
how the future would be shaped. Moreover, the human culture remained
much the same, and cities and towns existed in the context of a natural
environment which was so much more powerful.
In the twentieth century and beyond things changed massively.
Advances in technology now mean that humankind has the power radi-
cally to affect the environment, and thus in turn to affect future gen-
erations. The technological threat to air, water and food—all of which
humankind now, and in the future will, depend on—is potentially
unbounded. The focus of ethical concern has now flipped from the pres-
ent to the future, from the familiar and known others to others who
108 The Practice of Integrity in Business

are and who will remain unknown. Environmental responsibility stresses

the responsibility of all social actors. There are different versions of this,
stressing responsibility to future generations per se, developing arguments
about the basis and nature of what we might owe to these generations
(Robinson et al. 2012). Most have a powerful relational framework of
accountability, from theological, with accountability to the creator, to
philosophical, with accountability to future generations and for the wider
environment. Jonas (1984) recognizes the usefulness of creator myths to
reinforce this sense of responsibility for and to the social and physical
environment over time. This is a recognition of responsibility transcend-
ing the individual or organization, suggesting a level of answerability for
all actions in relation to these. The voice of God for religious spirituality
may seem singular and powerful because it is located in a ‘person’, but
the wider environment in all its complex relations is also relational, and
thus able to ‘call’ all of us to be answerable for our actions (cf. Ricoeur
1992). It is perhaps not surprising that this sense of the transcendent has
led some thinkers to personify the physical environment, as in the Gaia
hypothesis (Lovelock 1979). Jonas (2001, 269) uses the mythic idea of
the ‘book of life’, which sets up a ‘timeless seat of justice’—again an escha-
tological frame. Underpinning this sense of shared responsibility, then, is
a sense of accountability. This relational accountability (cf. Levinas 1998)
provides the basis for a shared, inclusive, morality, without making it
prescriptive or totalizing. All are responsible and have to work out how
to practise that responsibility in the light of context and capacity. Jonas
argues that the imperative to be responsible is answered by the capacity of
humankind to feel responsible for the whole (the analogue of God writ-
ing in man’s heart the consciousness of the good). Responsibility in this is
based on an identification with the environment and an acute awareness
of man’s role in relation to the environment (cf. Robinson 2015, May
1992, for Islamic and existentialist perspectives respectively).
Arendt develops this, arguing ‘that in one form or another men must
assume responsibility for all crimes committed by men and that all nations
share the onus of evil committed by all others’ (Arendt 1991, 282). Here,
Arendt does not necessarily mean strict liability for the crimes of others,
but more the sense that humankind must take collective responsibility
for learning from those crimes.
 4 Integrity and Positive Responsibility 109

Positive Responsibility
Emerging from this philosophy, and exemplified in the Nestlé case, are
several aspects of positive responsibility which inform proactive integrity.

Undetermined Responsibility

Positive responsibility works against predetermined and fixed statements

of responsibility, and thus against denial of responsibility based in limited
role or resource. Of course, both role and resources will inform an assess-
ment of responsibility but neither can predetermine it. When the Nestlé
representative was faced with the Kennedy question about responsibility
he wanted to defend against any responsibility imposed on Nestlé from
outside. Hence, he denied any responsibility for knowing about the con-
text of the marketplace. This is essentially a conflict approach which can
never be won.
Kennedy’s question opens up the uncertainty of integrity, and with
that the importance of a view of integrity which handles uncertainty. On
the face of it Nestlé might have wanted to concede the responsibility of
knowing about the context of marketing. Knowledge, after all, does not
necessarily presume obligation. If, however, having sold goods in good
faith, new knowledge occurs with evidence of negative effects on the cus-
tomer, this raises the legitimate question of what responsibility the firm
has to change either the product or their marketing practices. The firm is
immediately drawn into the ethical reflection and has to be able to give
an account which demonstrates its good faith, its integrity. Nestlé’s initial
defensive position precisely could not provide that because it had not
entered into dialogue to examine the situation in more detail and learn
more from the different narratives involved. The predetermined position
simply ascribes responsibility to governments to supply clean water. The
dialogic position opens up issues of shared responsibility, with develop-
ing countries often not able to fulfil that responsibility, with NGOs and
others involved in this area adding more detail. Positive responsibility,
then, proactively explores the ‘grey areas’, where responsibility has not
been determined, actively looking for ways to address the wider situation.
110 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Plural Responsibility

Like multiple accountability, this accepts that organizations are respon-

sible for their interaction with the different areas in their social and physi-
cal environment (cf. Brown 2005). Corporate integrity involves multiple
responsibilities, including for culture, the organization and the wider
social and physical environment. Integrity demands developing aware-
ness and appreciation of these relationships. Such relationships establish
social identity, and response to them determines whether the individual
or organization actually takes responsibility for ideas, values, creation of
mutual worth, and practice.
This sets up the identity of the firm as both corporate citizen and envi-
ronmental steward. It also bridges the gap between individual responsibility
and collective responsibility, affirming that, whilst primary responsibility
may be defined by role, this is not exhaustive. Responsibility is both/and:
individual and shared, for profession and institution. It is this uncertain
area that both Nestlé and Mid Staffs found it hard to traverse. Hence, the
easiest response is to divided responsibility, focusing on narrow liability.
The problem for both cases was inability to do one’s own job and to take
responsibility for the whole. In this sense the first step is to assume respon-
sibility for the whole and then determine how this is to be embodied.

Proactive Responsibility

The dynamic is one of always looking to fulfil positive responsibility, rather

than defending a narrow view. In accepting such a second-order impact,
Nestlé was not accepting full liability for the death of the babies, but that
it directly contributed to a complex situation where several stakeholders
shared in responsibility for possible negative impact on the babies. This
involves a more proactive approach, which seeks to anticipate and prevent
ethical problems from arising. Following the development of the Code and
related dialogue, Nestlé, for instance, proactively stopped the provision of
free milk supplies in some forty countries, other than under the direction
of the local health services. It put more money into research on breast-
feeding and offered to increase collaboration with the other stakeholders.
 4 Integrity and Positive Responsibility 111

Responsibility Shaping Perception

This sense of responsibility radically shapes how the world is viewed. As

Spohn (1997, 116) suggests there is no value-free awareness of any situ-
ations: ‘

We make choices in the world that we notice, and what we notice is shaped
by the metaphors and the habits of the heart that we bring to experience.’

Positive responsibility precisely increases awareness and appreciation

of the social and physical environment, because it does not exclude con-
cern for and thus possible response to any aspect of the social and physi-
cal environment.

Negotiated Responsibility

Such shared sense of responsibility involves negotiation about how it is to

be shared in practice. Finch and Mason (1993) argue this is central to the
development of ethical identity. In their research with single-parent fami-
lies they concluded that most families developed their ethical identity not
with reference to principles but rather though the practical negotiation
of responsibility: for instance, around the care of vulnerable family mem-
bers. This suggests that such negotiation is critical to the development of
the identity which is at the heart of integrity. Such negotiation takes place
both within groups and beyond. In the Nestlé case this responsibility was
developed in several ways. First, Nestlé began to let go of its responsibility
in the situation. In the first phase it focused on its leadership and respon-
sibility for defending its reputation. It was clear, however, that Nestlé
could not stay in that position once the boycott happened. Hence, WHO
and the American Methodist Task Force began to take over critical roles.
The first involved enabling working through a detailed code for practice,
which in turn enabled other stakeholders, from national and regional
medical organizations, legal bodies,2 the baby food industry and NGOs,
2
Used, for instance, to determine the regional language to be used for marketing in areas where
several different languages were used.
112 The Practice of Integrity in Business

to develop responsibility. The shared concern was focused not on the

business but rather on the consumers and the wider effect of marketing.
Responsibility was roughly apportioned long these lines:

• The milk powder industry would be responsible for maintaining stan-

dards in marketing.
• The health services would be responsible for the distribution of the
formula, according to need.
• The multinational corporations (MNCs), WHO and NGOs would be
responsible for monitoring practice
• The national governments would be responsible for policing practice
and ensuring that bad practice was effectively dealt with.

The Methodist Task Force was critical in enabling dialogue between

different stakeholders. Once the dialogue was developed, the perceived
identity of Nestlé was further developed, not least because, as noted in the
last chapter, authentic dialogue involves the development of mutuality
and thus a different power relationship. Hence, a mutuality could begin
to emerge in the relationships between Nestlé and the other stakeholders.

Responsibility Based on Dialogue

Negotiation was based on dialogue, and this enabled several things. First,
as noted in the last chapter, dialogue is not simply about providing solu-
tions; it engages the other, revealing something about the values and
beliefs of the self or organization and the other. Second, again as noted in
the last chapter, dialogue enables key data about facts and relationships
in the social environment to be gathered. Third, it reveals the power of
the different stakeholders, and thus how they could begin to contrib-
ute to any solutions. The financial power of the industry was critical to
sustaining procedural integrity, in this case the Code and the Muskie
Commission; the legal power of governments was key to monitoring
these procedures and so on. Fourth, dialogue enables the development of
options that could not have been achieved, still less imagined, if the firm
had taken sole responsibility for addressing the issue.
 4 Integrity and Positive Responsibility 113

Restless Responsibility

Honest exploration for creative response leads to a stress on the moral

imagination (Lederach 2005, see Chap. 7) involving the creative search
for the best ways of responding. Looking to work through this wider
responsibility makes integrity far more proactive, with people and orga-
nizations judged not a narrow view of behavioural integrity, still less by a
narrow legal perspective, but on the honesty of the exploration for ways
of responding to the social and physical environment. Ignorance, role or
limited resources are no defence for lack of awareness or inaction. Hence,
responsibility is always being worked through, and in one sense can never
be enough. For Bauman, ‘the moral self is always haunted by the suspi-
cion that it is not moral enough’ (1989, 60).
Nonetheless, it is through this concern for and relationship to the other
that freedom is found. As Bauman puts it, ‘It is this creation of engaging
of the Other, and thus also of myself, that my freedom, my ethical free-
dom comes to be’ (1993, 86). This lies between Berlin’s (1968) positive
and negative freedom, expressed in freedom as autonomy.

Responsibility Expressed in Procedural Integrity

The Code and the Muskie Commission provided procedural integrity.

The first did this through embodying the criteria for good practice. All
parties knew what the standards were, and what to expect. The second
provided independent arbitration. None of this precluded dialogue:

• Like any code it, couldn’t be applied in an absolute way. It required

interpretation.
• An international code meant that interpretation became ever more
complex. Demands that the instructions on packs of formula be
written in the local language might be hard to fulfil, for instance, if it
is not clear what the local language is.
Hence,
• The monitoring of the Code was down to the national governments
involved. This was difficult when some did not see this as a priority
114 The Practice of Integrity in Business

and others had significant but occasionally conflicting legislation. In

India, for example, two different laws, brought into force in 1993,
made different conditions about wording and language. Nestlé filed a
petition to the High Court in October 1995, not to contest either law
but to clarify the position.

These procedures were all anchor points, enabling all stakeholders

to have a voice in the ongoing practice, showing how any breaking of
the code could be addressed. The procedures were all the more impor-
tant in the light of major ambiguities surrounding the formula industry.
The sales force was ranged across as many as forty countries, setting up
the danger of receiving ambiguous messages, given the importance of
increasing sales of the product but also the importance of encouraging
the potential consumer to use breast milk. It was not surprising that local
sales forces might have found this hard to sustain.

Responsibility and Justice

Should TNCs be concerned about matters of justice? The attempt to mar-

ket breast milk substitute is seen by many to be in itself unjust. On this
view, not only is the TNC using those in poverty to try to further its own
profits, but its marketing approach also leads to suffering and the death of
the babies involved. The plausibility of this view depends on the plausibil-
ity of competing views of justice, and this view questions the morality of
simply operating in a free market orientation. Closely connected to this
is the global view of child health. The medical judgement is that, where
available, breast-feeding is best for the baby, whatever the nation.
The New Internationalist and Muller articles introduced a very differ-
ent ethical view, raising major issues of justice from a global perspective.
They were concerned about inequality, and in particular the impact which
the use of formula appeared to be having on the poor. The actions of the
TNCs, they claimed, were exacerbating the already massive problems of
Third World poverty and health inequity. They also raised the issue of
how far Nestlé were creating need through their advertising campaigns,
rather than responding to need. Developing nations would be susceptible
 4 Integrity and Positive Responsibility 115

to marketing campaigns that promised a Western view of well-being.

More generally, once a business operates in a different culture, integrity
demands that it take account of how that culture embodies justice, not
least because the power of the business might reinforce practices which go
against human rights. I will explore this in the later chapters. At this point
it is sufficient to say that integrity demands that justice be addressed, both
within the organization and beyond. Integrity in the last chapter partly
involved engaging moral purpose (either of the organization or in relation
to the organization, such as the extractive industries); justice is another
core value to do with relationships and thus another anchor for integrity.

Proximity, Power and Responsibility

Proximity and knowledge of a situation demand responsibility to be

addressed, precisely because the person or organization is in a position to
respond, but also because response will affect not simply a particular situ-
ation but rather part of the interconnected social world. Jonas extends this
to the principle of sustainability, which suggests that everyone is in posi-
tion to take responsibility for the future of the planet (cf. Singer 2004).
This raises the critical question of the power of the TNCs and of their
global interconnectedness. TNCs have more financial power than cer-
tain governments and are part of the global economic system that many
believe has directly contributed to Third World poverty. Business in this
context can influence politics. All these issues raise questions about the
responsible use of great power. Nestlé, initially, did not see this.

Responsibility and Identity

The re-presentation of the ‘self’ is further embodied in the creative action

of shared positive responsibility. This is partly through negotiation around
particular actions and partly through identification with shared concern.
Through the practice of dialogue this also leads to greater self-awareness, partly
about the power of the business, partly about the effect their actions have and
partly about how they are seen by the rest of society. Hence such dialogue
116 The Practice of Integrity in Business

also enables reflection on the shadow or the blind side of the business. Just
as dialogue within the business can reveal, for instance, practice which is not
just, so dialogue with stakeholders can reveal problematic practices.
Engaging the different narratives serves to challenge perspectives about
responsibility, but also provides different perspectives on possibilities for
action. This suggests a shared journey on which the other is discovered
through intentional action. This positive view of responsibility also pro-
vides a moral bottom line, in addition to any consideration of wider
purpose or good, which Mason (2001) argues is ultimately founded in
respect for the dignity of the person. This suggests that, alongside engage-
ment of different value narratives, integrity does have a moral foundation
to stand up for. However, agency and universal responsibility also sug-
gests that even that has to be tested.

Shared Value and Responsibility

This view of responsibility seems close to the Porter and Kramer’s (2011)
view of creating shared value (CSV). They argue that if poor practice, irre-
spective of company size, can negatively impact the reputation of busi-
nesses, then, conversely, good responsible practice can produce a number
of benefits for the business organization. These include: stimulation of
customer confidence and loyalty; enhancement of stakeholder relation-
ships; improvement of staff retention and recruitment; and eradication of
waste or wasteful practice.
Porter describes the concept of CSV as:

policies and operating practices that enhance the competitiveness of a com-

pany while simultaneously advancing the economic and social conditions
in the communities in which it operates. Shared value creation focuses on
identifying and expanding the connections between societal and economic
progress. (Porter 2011)

Crane et al. (2014) suggest that CSV is problematic. First, they argue
that the idea as such is not original. It has been developed in response
 4 Integrity and Positive Responsibility 117

to a ‘straw man’ account of corporate social responsibility (CSR) which

does not take account of recent developments in stakeholder man-
agement, strategic CSR or different views of responsibility. Second,
whilst it looks to the alignment of core values, it does not take seri-
ously potential tensions between social and economic goals, especially
where social problems may have been caused by business practice. CSV
says nothing about how we handle such conflicts, which are a key part
of integrity. Third, it is naïve about business compliance. It ‘presumes
compliance with the law and ethical standards, as well as mitigating
any harm caused by the business’ (ibid.). This also presumes that ethi-
cal standards are simply a matter of compliance and that they do not
themselves raise difficult issues. The issue of an ethical approach to the
payment of business taxes is a good example, raising potential conflict
between ethical and legal standards (see Chap. 8). This, rather, demands
dialogue about ethical meaning and practice. Fourth, it is based on a
shallow conception of business’s role in society. I would argue that this
is because it is focused on interest rather than responsibility. Interest
approaches tends to focus on institutional or group sustainability and
related needs rather than on the wider picture and the possibilities for
the wider social and physical environment that emerge from dialogue
and negotiated responsibility.
Positive responsibility does not simply address the interests of stake-
holders, but rather, it also aims to mutually empower them so that they
too can take appropriate responsibility. This is in effect the strongest form
of dispersed leadership, dispersing responsibility through dialogue. Such
shared responsibility is not focused on achieving consensus per se. It is
about enabling reflective and responsible practice, such that the groups
as a whole and the members can own and work through purpose and
practice at all levels. The responsibility model may in fact question or
challenge consensus. Porter’s concept of shared value, then, is related
to shared responsibility but distinct. Shared value recognizes the values
interest and that it is therefore in the interest of all parties to respond
to these. Shared responsibility looks to empower fellow citizens in the
exercise of responsibility for the common good and to negotiate how this
can be shared.
118 The Practice of Integrity in Business

This should also be contrasted with approaches to stakeholder man-

agement, such as Mitchell et al. (1997). These argue that salient stake-
holders should be analysed in terms of:

power—their capacity to influence the outcome of a given project;

legitimacy—the moral or legal claim a stakeholder has to influence a par-
ticular project;
urgency—the degree to which their claims are urgent or compelling.

This approach has several problems in the light of the Nestlé case. First,
it is difficult to assess issues of power. Nestlé did not appreciate the power of
the NGOs, the media or the customer. Part of the reason for that, as noted
above, was their polarized view, which led them to treat many of these as
threats, or not to see them at all. This also showed their lack of awareness
and appreciation of the different actors but also of themselves. Second, in
that context, the moral claim of any stakeholders is very hard to assess.
Only with critical dialogue can this begin to be worked through. Third,
making any assessment of stakeholders demands an awareness of complex
relationships in the wider social and physical environment, including how
stakeholders influence each other. Fourth, the model is flawed because it
assumes that the business project is central, and all others work around
it. Other stakeholders in the Nestlé case, such as the WHO, see their
concern as central, with the major value as breast-feeding. Business in this
context becomes one of many actors who are challenged to fulfil global
responsibility. This concept of shared or mutual responsibility of different
stakeholders is what led to the WHO Code, both the outcome of negoti-
ated responsibility and the means for continuing practice of responsibility.

Identity and Image

Nestlé in the meantime has continued to attempt to get its case across,
especially in key areas such as universities, where many student unions
continue to ban Nestlé products. In terms of presenting its case, the
higher education sector is important for two reasons. First, over 45 per
cent of school leavers enter higher and further education each year in the
 4 Integrity and Positive Responsibility 119

UK, and these will be the opinion-formers of the future. Second, aca-
demic support would lend credibility to Nestlé’s arguments.
However, even this approach has had its problems. Denied the chance
to set out their case in the Oxford student newspaper, Nestlé UK decided
to place an advert in the local free paper. One of several claims in this
was that ‘even before the WHO International Code for Marketing Breast
Milk Substitutes was introduced in 1981, Nestlé marketed infant formula
ethically and responsibly, and has done ever since’ (quoted in Marketing
Week, 4 February 1999). The response from Baby Milk Action was to
take these claims to the Advertising Standards Authority (ASA). Here was
an arbitrator who might be able to judge the case.
In the event, the ASA ruled against the adverts (ibid.) on the basis that
they contained implications that could not be easily substantiated. The
response of Baby Milk Action was to claim that the ruling finally showed
that Nestlé were unethical (ibid.). Of course, the ASA was not saying that
Nestlé was unethical. It was simply making a ruling on the narrow claims
that were in the advert. The implication of the ruling was that, if the advert
had been reframed, then it might have been permitted. Moreover, the
ASA were clearly uneasy about having to make judgements on matters of
ethics. In sense this goes to the heart of integrity as a truthful and reliable
re-presentation of the self. This involves developing self-awareness, con-
tinual critical reflection on values, purpose and practice, giving an account
of that meaning and practice, and continued embodiment of that mean-
ing in practice with others. It is a continual learning experience, and there
is no point at which one can claim to be fully ethical; there will always
be gaps and ambiguities. Hence, any account of values is better focused
on narrative and dialogue. Narrative can begin to show awareness of the
problems faced and attempt to address these. Dialogue shows openness
to critique and creative change. Both avoid claims to moral high ground.

Postscript

More than forty years after Kennedy’s questions about infected water
and responsibility, the global issues have become wider. As Mike Muller
(2013), one of the original protagonists, notes, now the issues include
120 The Practice of Integrity in Business

the right to and distribution of water. Earlier this had drawn the Nestlé
Chairman, Peter Brabeck-Letmathe, into debate about water, as a human
right and as a key part of wider stewardship (Corfino 2013). Brabeck-
Letmathe (2015) argues that water is a human right but that in the
developed world there is poor stewardship of water. Nestlé has begun to
respond to the issue through a commitment to develop water steward-
ship, including in its supply chain (Nestlé 2014), and to develop ongo-
ing dialogue between civil society, business and governments (https://
www.2030wrg.org/).

Responsibility and NGOs

The issues around responsibility also apply to NGOs. Their advocacy
work has led them either to represent vulnerable stakeholders or to be
direct stakeholders of business. Their activism has also led to ethical criti-
cisms of their practice, focused on their view of purpose and account-
ability (Kaldor 2003). NGOs are accountable to donors who are different
from the beneficiaries of their work. This can lead to many different
problems, not least around purpose. The two main purposes of NGOs
are service provision and advocacy. In the first, NGOs may work closely
with governments in providing services in areas such as famine relief. In
advocacy, the NGOs look to stand up for the cause of minorities, which
may involve critiquing the governments or big business. This leads to
criticisms from developmental agencies about working too closely with
service provision (to satisfy donors) and not enough on advocacy, and
from business about stress on advocacy skewing the service provision role
(Kaldor 2003). In some developing countries the service provision is fur-
ther skewed with TNCs subcontracting to NGOs CSR policy and prac-
tice. The problems with purpose are exacerbated by the fact of increasing
competition amongst NGOs. The NGOs in turn rely on publicity, and
this can lead to exaggeration of crises to develop and maintain image (see
the Brent Spar case below). In turn, this can lead to the polarization of
ethical debate, where it is in the interest of the NGO to be perceived as
occupying the moral high ground and for the business to be seen as a ‘the
enemy’. Questions of accountability are also raised about relationship
 4 Integrity and Positive Responsibility 121

of NGOs to their beneficiaries. It is not clear how NGOs can speak for
their beneficiaries, leading to a potentially paternalistic approach to the
service provision.
A good example of the ethical debate within NGOs about purpose
is the Amnesty International’s support for Moazzam Begg. Amnesty
wanted to develop a campaign around the prisoners at Guantánamo Bay,
and Begg had been associated with this. However, he had also been asso-
ciated with the Taliban and other Islamist extremist views. The comments
from donors (Sunday Times 2014) show that even within NGOs there
are major ethical differences that have to be addressed.

Dynamic and Proactive Integrity

The third mode of responsibility, then, focuses on creativity. It also adds
to the dimension of integration in integrity. In particular, it integrates
enterprise into integrity because of the focus on the future and on possi-
bilities. The more an organization is aware of and responsive to the social
environment, the more opportunities for business emerge. For Nestlé this
meant a different way of marketing their product, with the assent and
cooperation of all the social agents involved.
Jonathan Sacks (2007) offers a similar view of integration and creativ-
ity across society, including the following elements:

Integration without assimilation. This involves working with the other,

based on respect and dignity, without trying to change them or make
them conform. This applies to the different narratives inside and
outside the firm. As Sacks puts it, ‘integrated diversity values the dig-
nity of difference’ (Sacks 2007).
Building together. Integration is furthered through building together.
Increasingly, as I will note in Chap. 7, NGOs are working with
major corporations around developing responsibilities, evidencing
mutual respect and effective projects which do not negatively affect
the firm’s growth. To build together in this sense switches the focus
from rights to responsibilities, from claims to contributions (Sacks
2007).
122 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Redrawn boundaries. This leads to a redrawing of boundaries. What con-

stitutes difference is no longer across the table, but instead is found
alongside, working together to resolve shared issues.

In the process of shared creativity this is a further element in the re-

presentation of the identity of the organization. From the re-presentation
to the self to the self, and the re-presentation of the self to others, there
is the re-presentation of the self with others. If this involves being true to
the self and to others, then positive responsibility involves being true to,
and creating truth in, the future. I will say more about the public identity
of business in Chap. 8.
All three modes of responsibility interact. The first mode focuses on
knowledge of ideas, values and purpose, and awareness of the intellectual
and affective elements in involved. It also focuses on how we see the
wider society and attempt to respond. The second mode opens this to
account. It demands an account of purpose and practice. It tests such
an account through dialogue, thus extending the critical reflection on
practice. Without the second mode the first could easily become fantasy,
hence the breakdowns in meaning and practice noted above, which have
the air of psychological pathology. As noted also, without genuine reflec-
tion and testing of the first mode the second can become a shell, with
means of accounting becoming the ‘ends’ of the organization. Without
the focus on the third mode, proactive responsibility, there is the dan-
ger of the first mode retreating to the negative view of responsibility as
culpability, leading to defensiveness. Clearly legal responsibility has to
be balanced with wider integrity because of the potential threats to the
sustainability of the organization. However, the Nestlé case shows that an
exclusively defensive position is ultimately untenable. I will test this view
further in Chap. 8 around the issue of tax and the ‘big four’ accountancy
networks.
Proactive responsibility also connects to the development of agency.
Working through the different possibilities further tests just what the
core values and purpose of the organization are and how they can be
developed. This can lead to changes in the stated values and purpose
and practice of the organization. Integrity in all this is not an individual
entity but relational, hence personal, professional and public integrity are
 4 Integrity and Positive Responsibility 123

interconnected. Each contributes to identity. Each aspect of responsibil-

ity reveals something about the identity of the person, organization or
overarching project, and thus re-presents the ‘self ’.
As I noted in Chap. 3, much of this is based on thinking known as
‘social constructionism’. The danger in in some forms of this is com-
plete relativity. However, the view of integrity I propose is not based on
such relativity. It recognizes that there are critical anchor points in society
which tie any business to reality, a reality based in social relations. These
include: the law and government; professions (which have a sophisticated
view of value, worth and purpose); moral values (principally respect and
justice), which are often at the base of civil society organizations, from
religion to NGOs; and environmental values, focused on sustainability.
Practising integrity in business demands taking responsibility for criti-
cally relating to each of these anchor points in developing: a narrative of
values, purpose and worth; a public account of meaning and practice;
and creative responsive practice. Hence, the practice of integrity is never
just about relationship to principles narrowly conceived.
What holds all this together is reflective deliberation (decision-making),
critical and reflective dialogue, and the development of narrative. These
enable the constitution of the self and thus any sense of identity, through
self-dialogue, mutual dialogue and creative dialogue. This in turn demands
structure and culture in the organization, which enables such ongoing delib-
eration and dialogue. Moreover, this requires a community/culture of integ-
rity which enables the practice of responsibility at every level. In Chap. 6,
on governance, I will explore how this can be developed. In Chap. 7 I will
explore how the moral imagination can be developed in practice. None of
this suggests that integrity is about a state which fully realizable. It is rather
focused on ongoing learning (cf. Lederach 2005), with critical dialogue
revealing new meaning and practice.

Conclusion
This chapter completes a view of integrity as the reliable and truthful
re-presentation of the self or organization. Being true to the self involves
taking responsibility for ideas, values, practice, sense of worth and how
124 The Practice of Integrity in Business

we perceive and relate to the social and physical environment- owning

narrative. Re-presentation involves giving an account through (a) criti-
cal engagement in plural and complex relationships vialogue and narra-
tive and anchoring the account in core moral values, especially respect
and justice, and purpose, and (b) holding together different value nar-
ratives, including sustainability of the organization and the social frame-
work. Both of these span both truth about and truth to: truth about
complex identity and our sense of the self, and truth to the projects,
principles, purpose and people with whom this is shared. The ultimate
test of that meaning is in relationships and the exercise of positive respon-
sibility, developing shared creative response to the social and physical
environment.
To practise such integrity demands the development of: criticality
(in developing authentic meaning through dialogue), consciousness (of
the self and others), connectivity (an understanding of the significance
of social relations), commitment (to purpose, project and people), com-
munication (in giving an authentic account) and creativity (in embody-
ing values in practice). Each of these requires the development of related
qualities and skills. In particular, they require the practice of virtues, which
brings us to a further C-word: character. Integrity, as I noted in the first
chapter, is associated in some ways with the virtues, and in some views
is seen as a virtue itself. It is to the virtues I will turn in the next chapter.

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 5
Integrity and Virtue

Abstract This chapter sets out the relationship between integrity and
the virtues. It argues that integrity is not a virtue in the Aristotelian sense
but involves, rather, a dynamic interactive complex of virtues. What con-
nects the virtues is the practice of the different modes of responsibility.
The chapter looks at the underlying virtues ethics theory, and then sets
out some of the key virtues and how they relate to the three modes of
responsibility and from that to integrity, including: courage, patience,
temperance, humility, practical wisdom, care/respect, empathy, faithful-
ness/trust, justice, hope, eros and negative capability.

Previous chapters have focused on integrity based on the three intercon-

nected modes of responsibility. Before going on to look at further impli-
cations of this in business practice, I want to return to one of the original
meanings of integrity, as a virtue. In Chap. 1 I noted broad and thin views
of integrity as a virtue. The broad view of integrity sees it as a super-virtue
or the collection of the virtues (Solomon 1992). The super-virtue involves
the capacity to connect the different virtues in some way. The thin view
of integrity as a virtue focuses on the Aristotelian view of truthfulness in

© The Author(s) 2016 127

S. Robinson, The Practice of Integrity in Business,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-51553-7_5
128 The Practice of Integrity in Business

the representation of the self. The problem with the second of these, as I
noted, is that it is tied to a specific understanding of Aristotle’s virtues. In
addition to truthfulness about the self is required knowledge of the self,
which is seen as a separate virtue (Curzer 2014). We are still left with the
question of how the different virtues comes together.
The problem with the broad view of integrity is that it is not clear pre-
cisely what a super-virtue involves. It might be a form of meta-cognition
(Flavell 1987), for instance, defined as the capacity to see the self and
how one is thinking and acting. This takes us into the key idea of see-
ing ourselves as others see us, involving something like Ricoeur’s idea of
perceiving the other in the self, the self as another. If this is the case, then
integrity needs to be more that meta-cognition as a rational capacity. To
see the self demands also affective understanding, the use of empathy.
Moreover, as I suggested in the third chapter, it demands not just my
perspective of myself as another but also the perspectives of others.
In the intervening chapters I have argued that the meaning of integ-
rity is grounded in the practice of responsibility. Broadly speaking, this
means: taking responsibility for one’s ideas, feelings, view of worth and
purpose, perception and awareness of social and physical environment
and of how this relates to our practice and how our practice affects the
world; practising accountability to the different stakeholders in the social
and physical environment, including how our relationships with the dif-
ferent stakeholders involve shared meaning about purpose, worth and
value and also an awareness of plural value narratives; and practising a
proactive responsibility for people, projects and procedures, involving
exploring what is possible through shared responsibility.
The modes are interrelated, and stress on one without the others can
lead to fragmentation of meaning and practice. Each of the modes con-
tributes to an understanding and presentation of the self, of one’s identity
as individual or organization. The first involves clarity about that identity.
The second recognizes that identity is based on shared meaning and also
different narratives. The third involves creative action and the negotiation
of shared responsibility, which establishes the ethical identity of the per-
son or organization through such action. Hence, the practice of each of
the modes helps to present the self to the self and others. This involves
the ongoing practice of dialogue inside the organization and beyond.
 5 Integrity and Virtue 129

Such dialogue enables more rigorous thinking, better data collection,

greater awareness of how values relate to practice and more options for
action. Dialogue is focused on reflective practice and brings meaning and
practice together.
Virtues are themselves a bridge between meaning and practice. A vir-
tue describes a disposition to behave in a way which is of value. They
show something about the overall character of the person or organization
and thus how behaviour embodies ethical meaning. I will begin with an
illustration of the virtues in practice, and from that illustrate key virtues.

Case: It’s Only a Game1

Following the success of a computer game based upon a horror film sce-
nario, the CEO of a computer software development firm was invited
to California by the multimedia global company who had commis-
sioned the game. Following a fine lunch, which involved alcohol, the
CEO was taken to the boardroom to discuss other possible commissions.
Representatives of the commissioning company assured the CEO that he
would receive the final payments for the first game, adding that this had
been so successful that they wanted to commission a sequel. The sequel,
they said, should include increased shock value, and the inclusion of the
explicit death of young children. If the CEO was agreeable, the compa-
ny’s lawyers were ready with the contract to sign. The CEO felt a strong
sense of unease about the new commission, and was initially uncertain
what to do. His firm, of no more than thirty staff, had experienced a lean
time since the first game, and he knew that the staff were looking to him
to secure future contracts soon. He decided to stall and tell the commis-
sioning company that for such a contract he would need twenty-four
hours to consult his board. The company representatives tried to put
pressure on the CEO to sign, but reluctantly agreed to the delay.
That evening the CEO set up a conference call with the small board and
some other members of the workforce. His colleagues shared a deep sense

1
This scenario is based on an actual case used by a colleague in his inaugural lecture. It has been
anonymized.
130 The Practice of Integrity in Business

of unease, and they began to rehearse the reasons for that. One member
of the board insisted that they should turn the offer down flat. The major-
ity of the board were family members, and he argued that the family
ethos was critical to their sense of identity. Using the killing of vulnerable
children in a game was simply against what they stood for. Another board
member questioned just what this moral stance was about. He argued
that increased violence was now simply expected in computer games, and
that there was little evidence to suggest that this led to violence in general.
The artistic director, not part of the board, argued that a representation of
the death of children might not necessarily be bad. Were there not many
examples of books of films which included the death of children in order
to make a moral point?2 The discussion then went through the question
of responsibility. Would the responsibility for the changes in the game
not be down to the commissioning company, and would the government
and families not be responsible for making sure that the only adults used
the game? The senior member of the workforce then asked about their
responsibilities to their colleagues and their workforce.
They concluded that they could not ‘solve’ the issue there and then, but
were clear that they wanted to work through their responsibilities to all
the stakeholders and that they wanted to avoid extreme responses at this
point, either simply signing or refusing to accept the commission. They
wanted to work through a dialogue with the commissioning company
and see how these issues panned out. They decided that such a dialogue
should be formalized in writing, and rapidly put together a letter which
noted their desire to accept the commission and their unease about the
terms, and asked for clarification about the terms of the commission: in
particular, about what increased violence and the death of children might
involve, which did not seem to be included in the terms of the contract
the lawyers had drawn up. The letter was sent to the CEO of the commis-
sioning company, copying in the legal department.
The firm received no formal reply about the terms of the new commis-
sion; the money owed to the software development company was rapidly
released, and a new game made, without the two additions.

2
Famously Dickens spent some time on the death of little Nell in his The Old Curiosity Shop. Nell
had become the centre of a fight between good and evil (embodied by the character Quilp).
 5 Integrity and Virtue 131

This case was brief and handled simply but was complex. First, it
reminds us that ethical decision-making is not simply about rational
reflection. One of the key issues about the discussion of integrity so far
is precisely that it involves the identity of the person of organization,
and that this is focused on value and sense of worth, and thus feeling.
Hence, much of the concern for the CEO and his firm was less about pre-
cise values or principles than about their identity, including their history
as a family firm. Often ethical decision-making is seen as largely ratio-
nal, in the sense of cognitive, with straightforward ‘sections’, including:
data-gathering; value clarification and analysis; examination of options
and consequences; and a final decision based on key values. However,
whilst such elements of decision-making are important to articulate, they
are far from simple or focused on logic or empirical data. On the con-
trary, as the argument has suggested to this point, each of them demands
engaging others, involving relationships and, with them, feelings. In the
case at hand, the CEO felt strongly that showing the death of children
in the context of a game was wrong. This felt like a moral imperative,
partly because of social taboos, and partly because it felt as if he was
contradicting the moral identity of the firm. However, he equally felt the
importance of signing the new contract precisely because as head of a
small firm he knew all his workforce and their families. He had come to
California with a strong sense of his role in sustaining the business. The
strong conflicting feelings were, it must be said, intensified by the ‘liquid
lunch’. Nonetheless, he was able to acknowledge the conflict and that
there was no simple solution, and look to reflect on the dilemma with his
colleagues. Of course, the very term ‘solution’ assumes that we are faced
with a difficult choice between stipulated options. The reflection with the
board showed that this was a false dichotomy. It began to work through
different responsibilities, and thus to a resolution (taking account of the
affective aspects of relationships) rather than a solution (involving ratio-
nal problem-solving). The focus of this reflection was, first, to question
the underlying assumptions of both positions, and with that the identity
of the firm that each thought was obvious. For the first speaker it was
clear that they had to stand out against this kind of practice. This was a
matter of integrity. But it quickly became apparent that, whilst no one in
the discussion was unconcerned about the proposal, this view of integrity
132 The Practice of Integrity in Business

was itself based on an assumption about the nature of the request and in
feeling-based values that had not been fully worked through. Integrity, as
I have argued already, demands that values and assumptions be critically
challenged, enabling responsibility for feelings and ideas. Accountability
then had to be worked through, not least, the multiple accountability to
customers, clients, firm, stakeholders and so on. Importantly, the board
then wanted to build a resolution precisely on practising accountability
to all of these.
At this point the dialogue had to go beyond the board and firm and
take in the commissioning company, with the possibility of involving the
wider stakeholders. Dialogue with the company would already involve
both the leadership and the legal department, both present at the first
meeting, and significantly involving different expressions of the commis-
sion. Dialogue with wider stakeholders was implicit in the firm’s discus-
sion about responsibility and regulation. Hence, the board determined
that a formal letter would ensure a focused dialogue with the company on
the record, but also provide the basis for wider dialogue with stakeholders
at a later date.
The first stage of such a dialogue was precisely to seek clarification
about what the company meant. In framing that question, the firm radi-
cally changed the nature of the relationship. Request for clarification was,
in effect, a challenge to the commissioning company to take responsi-
bility for ideas, value and practice, and to clarify accountability. It did
not take long then for the company to realize that, just as the games
firm had stakeholders, so they too had stakeholders, with different and
sometimes conflicting values. The commissioning company, for instance,
had a strong line in family entertainment. In recent times, there was also
an increase in customers from different cultures, including the Muslim
world, with a strong family ethic. The computer game was targeted at late
adolescents. A public confirmation of the requirement to show the death
of children could potentially spoil the company’s family-focused identity.
The company would have rehearsed the dialogue with stakeholders and
seen the importance of developing their responsibility in this situation.
For the firm the alternative to a stipulated choice was to work through
their own responsibility in terms of their identity and to involve the other
party in such a dialogue. In the space of doing that, they also touched
 5 Integrity and Virtue 133

base with their own historical narrative and began to learn more of what
their core values actually meant. Integrity, focused on the practice of
responsibility, involves just this dynamic.

The Virtues and Responsibility

The practice of responsibility in this situation was difficult because it
involved stress, including the fear that different stakeholders would be
let down. For some leaders such stress might also attach to the feeling
that different people or groups depended on him or her. Being faced
by different pressures demands the practice of psychological and moral
strengths or virtues. Integrity as taking responsibility for the self requires
all of these virtues to be practised. In a sense the practice of these virtues
involves being true to the self.
The term ‘virtue’ comes from the Latin virtus, which is in turn from
vir, ‘man’. Virtus means ‘the male function’, expressed in terms of strength
or the capacity to accomplish. In this sense, virtues are the qualities of
the person that enable something to be brought into being. Moral virtues
are the qualities that enable meaning, value and purpose to be embodied.
By extension they are the qualities that enable underlying meaning to
be lived out in individual and corporate practice. Hence, we would nor-
mally refer to the virtues of the individual, but it is also possible to use
the term in relation to a community or group. Virtues are in themselves
a bridge between the internal life and the external. They characterize cer-
tain strengths which we then confirm in the behaviour of the person or
organization.
Virtues, argues Aristotle (2004) are of the ‘mean’—that is, middle—
between extremes. The computer game gives a good example of the
importance of the mean. The board decided precisely that they did not
want to extreme responses to the challenge they faced. This enabled them
to practise responsibility and thus make better decisions.
Some (Higginson 1988) argue that virtues cannot always be char-
acterized as the mean. There may be virtues which are associated with
extremes. The virtue of justice, for instance, may look to embody val-
ues such as equality, and ensuring equality may require extreme acts,
134 The Practice of Integrity in Business

including resistance against coercive powers. However, the idea of the

mean does not preclude forceful or extreme action. On the contrary, the
virtues are dispositions to act in certain ways which enable action that
is responsive to the situation. As such, the virtue enables the practice
of responsibility, being able to be aware of the social environment and
respond, with others, to challenges and needs. Hence, in an extreme envi-
ronment, such as one involving conflict, courage demands awareness and
appreciation of the situation and an effective response, which may be
seen in other contexts as extreme. It is precisely the dispositions of cow-
ardice or foolhardiness that lead to the denial of responsibility, denial of
awareness of the social environment or response which is precipitous.
The positive psychology movement in sport and health see virtues as
performance-centred (Miller 2003). The development of good perfor-
mance or health is tied to the practice of virtues such as mindfulness.

Virtue Ethics Theory

Virtues give a view of ethics located in character and community
(Murdoch 1972). They are the building blocks of character and together
show what values and related ethics look like—meaning in practice.
Ethics and values are not just about ideas, or solutions, but about who we
are, and how this is expressed in ongoing practice.
Alasdair MacIntyre (1981) is responsible for the re-emergence of vir-
tue ethics, perhaps the most important ethical theory to challenge the
rationalist theories, utilitarianism and deontological ethics in the last
three decades. He argues that we must choose between Aristotle and
Nietzsche. Aristotle locates ethics and significant meaning in an intel-
ligible framework that makes sense of ethical dialogue (Aristotle 2004),
and so emphasizes the collective. Nietzsche (2003) argues more for the
individual and suggests that the traditional moral terminology should
no longer bind us. He argues that traditional moral terminology tends
to impose meaning on society, robbing the individual of the freedom to
determine his or her own values.
McIntyre argues for Aristotle. Ethical meaning, he suggests, is situated
in a community of practice, and is communicated less through principles
 5 Integrity and Virtue 135

than through stories and community ritual. These precisely show what
good practice looks like and enable ongoing reflection on the key virtues
of the community. The stories also say something about the underlying
worldview, the beliefs that help the community and its members make
sense of their practice in relation to the world. MacIntyre (1981) argues
that virtues underlie the pursuit of excellence in whatever practice a person
or group develops. Such excellence is achieved through mastering the goods
which are internal to the practice. An example of such mastery would be
a profound understanding of the nature and strategy of Olympic sports.
However, such goods and their mastery are not the ultimate object of the
practice. This lies beyond, in contribution to the common good, expressed
in local and even global community. In the example of the Olympics this
would take us to values of Olympism (Parry 2007), including a concern
for justice and peace-building, which, of course, was central to the first
Olympics. Core purpose, then, lies beyond narrow group interest.
In the case of the computer game, purpose was focused beyond the
interest of both the client company and the firm. As the board explored
this, they could see their identity in relation to several different stakehold-
ers. The board were in effect exploring their own family tradition and how
they related to the any sense of the wider good, but also exploring other tra-
ditions and debates about what constitutes the common good. MacIntyre
(1981) contrasts this with institutional goods, which are to do with sus-
taining the institution. He argues that over-stressing institutional goods
runs the danger of corrupting the good of the community of practice.
Virtue ethics is an important move forward in ethical theory, but has
its difficulties (cf. Laidlaw 2013). First, it does not really get over the
problem of how to handle ethical relativity. If each community is the
basis for meaning, then it is difficult to establish common values or ethi-
cal practices and, in particular, any sense of universal justice. Hence, for
many leaders simply to operate from within the tradition cannot be suf-
ficient. The leader of a transnational corporation, for instance, is always
faced by global concerns, not least those involving human rights. Human
rights, and the underlying meaning, have to be critically engaged.
Second, it is very difficult to see how virtues can simply replace prin-
ciples. By MacIntyre’s own admission any practice is based in goods, and
goods in one form or another tend to be expressed as principles or values.
136 The Practice of Integrity in Business

All professions, for instance, are based on some form of wider or even
pre-moral good (cf. Airaksinen 1994). This means that virtues cannot
exclusively define the good. Gillon cites the case of the ‘sincere ethnic
cleanser’, the man who had all the Aristotelian virtues, patience, justice,
courage and so on, but chose to use them to a bad end.3 He wants to
argue that any virtue is dependent upon the logically prior content of
moral principles. In the medical context Gillon suggests that this involves
the core principles of respect, justice, beneficence and non-maleficence
(Beauchamp and J. Childress 1989). Of course, so-called ‘principalism’
has itself been attacked on the ground that the principles in question
are not that clear (Seedhouse 2009). Respect for autonomy, for instance,
could mean several things, and is thus itself dependent on some other
prior meaning or understanding of human nature. The key point is that
principles have to be used critically.
Third, there is often lack of clarity about what the core virtues are.
MacIntyre, for instance, argues that practical wisdom is central, whilst
Hauerwas (2003), based on an understanding of the Christian gospels, argues
for peaceableness, the capacity to end conflict and build peace. Once more,
this takes the leader back to underlying narratives of the good to explain why
these particular virtues are important. In the light of the focus on sustainabil-
ity there are several other candidates for virtues, from hope to imagination.
Fourth, MacIntyre’s view of institutional goods is unnecessarily nega-
tive. As I have argued above, an exclusive stress on institutional goods is
problematic insofar as it prevents reflection on other goods. Nonetheless,
institutional goods are important. Without institutional sustainability
business cannot contribute to the wider goods, and the balancing of these
goods is exemplified in the computer game case study.

Virtues
If, as Aristotle (2004) suggests, virtues are only learned through practice,
then when they are not practised the virtue is lost. This is the ethical ana-
logue of the relationship between muscle strength and physical activity.

3
Cited in A. Campbell 2003, 292–296.
 5 Integrity and Virtue 137

In the case this was exemplified by the board practising the virtues as
they reflected on the issues—not least, practical wisdom and courage.
Through reflection the board were rehearsing not just ideas and views of
the good but also how they related to the different stakeholders, includ-
ing each other.
From twelve virtues Aristotle suggested four cardinal virtues: justice,
temperance, courage and wisdom. There are many other virtues, such
as empathy (from modern psychology) and faith, hope and love (from
theology). I will focus on several of these in relation to the case and
the practice of integrity. First I will focus on the virtues that enable
critical agency and good decision-making, and then on the virtues
which enable accountability and finally on those which enable creative
responsibility.

Courage

An obvious virtue that was practised in the case above was courage. It
took a degree of courage for the firm’s CEO to call ‘time out’ when faced
by the pressure to sign. It also took courage to call the board together, not
least because of the perceived pressure for him to ‘do the business’ and
bring home success.
Aristotle (2004) sees courage as resilience and the capacity to with-
stand a variety of pressures. Courage is one of the clearest examples of vir-
tues as involving the mean. In this case the mean is between the extremes
of foolhardiness and cowardice.
Foolhardiness involves knee-jerk reactions. Cowardice involves giv-
ing in to pressures, and not addressing the issues. Courage for Plato (cf.
Reid 2002) is quite a complex idea. It is not about thoughtless bravery.
It includes a capacity to persevere with an aim, whilst also holding a
critical relationship to that aim, enabling one to modify it as and when
it is right to do so. Again there is tension in this virtue, between the
courage to stick something out, ‘going the extra mile’, surviving per-
haps great suffering and knowing when to stop. Any leader will need
courage to articulate, test and stay with, or alter, a moral purpose, faced
by competing purposes. In this sense courage is also tied to relationship
138 The Practice of Integrity in Business

and how we deal with different narratives. A key aspect of the abuse of
power in the workplace is the way in which the narrative of power is
accepted by the workforce. Courage is required even simply to ask ques-
tions about meaning and practice in oneself and others, challenging
the narrative and unexamined assumptions. It is worth adding that the
Alcoholics Anonymous prayer refers to the virtue of courage, as well as
wisdom and serenity. Harle (2005) suggests that this is important for
leadership, as it involves ataraxia, or peace of mind, enabling steadiness
under stress.

Patience

The case above is a beautiful illustration of patience. For Aristotle this is

partly about good temper. At one extreme is irascibility, and at the other
is lack of spirit. This has clear implications for how we see and handle
time. The irascible person will tend to try to do this quickly. The person
without spirit will have little sense of the need to make a timely decision.
This suggests that patience is important for making a timely decision.
‘Timely’ is not in the measured sense of time, expressed in the Greek
concept of chronos. Rather, it refers to a more qualitative view of time
expressed in the concept of kairos, the right time. The idea is expressed
well in Ecclesiastes (3:1–2):

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the

heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck
up that which is planted …

The right, or ripe, time for the firm’s CEO to make a decision was not
at the point of the company’s invitation, but only once those involved
had reflected on the values and practice. The importance of such patience
was demonstrated in the credit crisis, not least in decision to acquire
the ABN Amro bank by RBS in 2007 (Martin 2013). This was taken at
speed, without any effective due diligence, thus saddling the bank with
further toxic debts.
 5 Integrity and Virtue 139

Temperance

This involves not abstinence—from drink or anything else—but rather

moderation, balance and self-control, hence a virtue of the mean, between
abstinence and incontinence (in a general sense). This is important for
effective judgement, self-reliance and the acceptance of responsibility.
Plato’s sophrosunê, ‘temperance’ or ‘self-control’, Reid (2002) suggests,
corresponds to discipline. Discipline, for the business leader involves
continued good practice for decision-making, regular meetings that focus
on core objectives. The firm’s board meeting exemplifies such disciplined
thinking.

Humility

Plato notes the virtue of piety, involving awareness of or obedience to a

god, or something or someone that is greater than oneself, and actions
or rituals that demonstrate this awareness. Reid (2002) suggests that this
can be recast as self-knowledge or -awareness. This relates closely to the
virtue of humility, defined as an awareness of the limitations as well as
the strengths of the self or the organization. The point about piety is that
awareness of something greater than oneself puts the self into perspective,
thus enabling a realistic assessment of the self. This also involves a proper
appreciation and acknowledgement of the authority and contribution of
leadership. The virtue of humility is an important corrective when the
expertise of the leader becomes a raison d’être or the basis of status or
identity. Most governance crises involve a lack of humility on the part of
leaders.
Humility is often seen as a nervous doubting of competence: self-
deprecation, quite the opposite of the leadership image. Tangney,
however, summarizes a very different view of humility, reminding us that
all virtues rest between extremes. It involves:

• accurate assessment of one’s ability and achievements

• ability to acknowledge one’s mistakes, imperfections, gaps in knowl-
edge and limitations
140 The Practice of Integrity in Business

• openness to new ideas, contradictory information and advice

• keeping one’s abilities and accomplishments—one’s place in the
world—in perspective
• relatively low self-focus, ‘a forgetting of the self ’, while recognizing
that one is but part of a larger universe
• appreciation of the value of all things, as well as the many different
ways that people can contribute to our world. (Tangney 2000)

In other words, humility is directly related to meaning-making and

practice and awareness of the nature of the social and physical environ-
ment. Vera and Rodriguez-Lopez (2004) sum up the importance of
humility for leadership as key to organizational learning and resilience.
The first of these involves: openness to new paradigms; eagerness to learn
from others; acknowledgement of limitations; pragmatic acceptance of
failure; and the ability to consult and ask for advice. Organizational resil-
ience involves: acceptance of simplicity; avoidance of narcissism; and
avoidance of self-complacency.

Practical Wisdom

This is Aristotle’s virtue of phronesis, the capacity for rational deliberation

that enables the wise person to reflect on his or her conception of the
good and to embody this in practice. Aristotle sees this not as a moral vir-
tue but as one of the intellectual virtues. The other intellectual virtues are:
knowledge how (techne), intuition (nous), rational understanding (sophia)
and scientific or empirical knowledge (episteme). It is important to stress
that this is a view of the intellect not as something apart from practice
but rather as a key part in relating to practice. The virtue of phronesis,
in particular, is essentially about practice. As the manager signs off the
marketing strategy, has she considered the purpose of the strategy, how
purpose and strategy are viewed by key stakeholders and whether there
are different views of how the business might contribute to the wider
good? How she decides between those different views of purpose will
depend on how she sees both the values and consequence of those pur-
poses, and how the board sees them. This is not about searching for some
 5 Integrity and Virtue 141

luminous meaning but rather coming to a considered view of the good

in that situation, something that requires openness to other perspectives
and a wrestling with competing ideas of the good, and the narratives and
related emotions which hold these in place. This ties in directly with the
first mode of responsibility as making meaning, and is exemplified in the
computer game case.
Within any large board this virtue can be practised on a regular basis,
not least because at any time a board may need to be aware of difference
aspects of the good, from the sustainability of the corporation to the good
of the local community. As I shall note later, the board can become the
place where phronesis is rehearsed. The board of the computer game firm
showed that they were already familiar with this kind of reflective dia-
logue. Indeed, it was precisely because of this that the CEO was able to
get them together so quickly and enable a focused dialogue. Often such
dialogue is most sharply characterized in public organizations such as
universities or hospitals. These also have to work through issues of justice
which relate to the core purpose or pre-moral good of the institution,
such as the distribution of health or educational opportunities.
A key point about the earlier case of the Arthur Andersen firm was that
they had stopped practising this virtue. The induction and other training
courses had involved this, and the new recruits neither did this nor saw
the need to do it. The absence of this meant that firm members did not
critically examine the firm’s past narrative and the core values, or different
competing values and purposes, or even see that there was an option. In
business and in other areas of leadership, such as the armed forces, it is
not uncommon to hear the argument that the objective is clear and there
is no need for phronesis. Hence, the leader in wartime, for instance, has
the simple objective of defeating the enemy. However, this ignores the
context of any situation. As Tawney (1930) observed, the aim of the UK
in the Second World War was not simply to defeat the enemy but also to
fight for core values such as freedom and equality. Those values in turn
determine the purpose of action in and after war, focusing not on simply
winning the war but also on how core democratic values can be achieved.
Hence, an occupying force always has a choice, at least, between actions
that establish primarily the safety of the occupying force and those which
develop a democratic practice and mind-set. Both short- and long-term
142 The Practice of Integrity in Business

purposes may be important at different times. However, too great a stress

on the first could lead to the loss of the second, long-term purpose, as
happened in Iraq (cf. Robinson 2011).4
The case also shows how the practice of phronesis is essentially dialogic
and thus not narrowly individualistic. Examination of the different nar-
ratives, and of how the organization relates to competing views of the
good, demands engagement of different perspectives. This is most effec-
tive precisely when the different perspectives are embodied in the board.
Hence this case showed how the different narratives were raised by the
board members focused on their views of the firm’s identity, and thus on
their relationship with the social environment. It is precisely the practice
of critical dialogue which brings together the different narratives, profes-
sional, institutional, social and so on, suggesting that effective practice of
phronesis demands genuine engagement with difference.
For Aquinas (1981) practical wisdom (prudentia) goes beyond reflec-
tion on the good. Included in several aspects are three elements which
focus on awareness of the social and physical environment over time
as well space: openness to the past (memoria), openness to the pres-
ent, involving the capacity to be still and listen actively (docilitas), and
openness to the future (solertia). This stresses openness and care before
any hasty judgement or decision. In being open to the present and the
future, it also stresses an appreciation of reality and thus of both con-
straints and possibilities in any situation. Because of this concern for real-
ity, Aquinas saw this as the foundation of the virtues. It works against a
primarily target-centred approach to leadership and management. It also
ties directly into the first mode of responsibility, taking responsibility for
perception and awareness of the social and physical environment over
time. Hence it is not simply about living in the moment, as some views
of spirituality at work suggest (cf. Parry et al. 2007).5

4
Another excellent example of phronesis is Abraham Lincoln’s focus at the end of the American
Civil War on ending slavery. In a cabinet which was strongly dialogic (including all the main rivals
in his race for the presidency) there was a strong push first to end the war. Lincoln remained
focused on the actual reason for the conflict and the need to address that in law before peace nego-
tiations. See Doris Kearns Goodwin, Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln
(London: Penguin, 2012).
5
Living ‘in the moment’ could be seen as a form of psychopathy, excluding the past, future and
present social environments.
 5 Integrity and Virtue 143

At least two other virtues focus on such awareness, and begin to enable
the practice of the second mode of responsibility, empathy and justice.

Empathy

Judgements vary as to whether empathy is a virtue (Murphy 1999,

Verducci 2000). Some would argue that it is closely connected to the vir-
tue of benevolence or compassion (Verducci 2000) and enables the pro-
fessional to identify with the other. If wisdom is an intellectual virtue,
then empathy is an affective (to do with feelings) virtue, offering a holistic
balance to phronesis in the practice of the first mode of responsibility. It is
the capacity to hear and understand, or identify with, underlying feelings.
This involves an awareness of others and their needs, regardless of who
they are or whether they are a member of the community (MacIntyre
1999, 122ff.). It does not mean total identification (sympathy), but rather
enables an appropriate distance between the self and the other. Such a dis-
tance is necessary if the other is to be understood, and if the professional is
to operate impartially and effectively (Robinson 2008). As such, empathy
can form the basis of the professional’s perception, data collection and
judgement. Similarly, empathy enables the professional to be aware of and
accept his or her own limitations, and to avoid the kind of self-conscious
caring that wants to impose the manager’s own needs on the relationship.
There has been much criticism of the concept of empathy, not least
because it seems patronizing to assume that one can know what the other
person feels (Verducci 2000), a sort of affective imperialism. Hence,
many argue that the dynamic of empathy is one of mutuality (Swinton
2001). Augsburger (2014) extends the term to ‘interpathy’, to include
cultural awareness. Epley (2014) argues that the associated idea that
empathy can understand what the other is feeling without any account
offered is false. The ‘inner’ feeling can only be discovered through the
articulation of some language, of the body or the word. Empathy, then,
involves awareness of the emotional meaning so expressed, or any conflict
in that meaning.
Empathy enables attention to the feelings of the other and enables the
other to articulate feelings and so in turn transcend them and understand
144 The Practice of Integrity in Business

how they relate to practice. This is not necessarily a symmetrical mutual-

ity, and we shall see in the next chapter how mutuality can be developed
through dialogue between people in different power relationships.
Empathy is closely connected to the capacity for humour. Aristotle sees
wit (eutrapelia) as one of the virtues. There are, of course, negative aspects
to humour, not least the danger of using humour to put down the other
(Bakhtin 1981). At its best, however, humour is a vehicle of empathy. It
enables a distance and perspective so that the self and the other can be
seen and accepted in all their incongruity (Pattison 1988, 186). Hence,
Shakespeare and Bahktin (1981) stress the importance of comedy, often
expressed in the carnival, enabling us to see different perspectives more
clearly. Many of Shakespeare’s plays include the fool, the institutional
jester who is able help leaders see perspectives they have lost.6 One of the
foremost poets who practised this wit was Robert Burns, not least in the
memorable stanza from the poem ‘To A Louse: On Seeing One On A
Lady’s Bonnet, At Church1786’ (Burns 2011, 138):

O wad some Power the giftie gie us

To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae mony a blunder free us
An’ foolish notion.7

This directly informs the idea of integrity that I have argued for thus
far. It is worth underlining that, whilst empathy is a key virtue for caring
professions, it is not exclusive to these. It is also necessary for effective
management and leadership, not least around the developing of aware-
ness of the identity, value and needs of stakeholders. Several skills, such as
listening and communication skills, are based on empathy, which in turn
demands an attitude of openness. It is very easy, especially in professional
training, to focus on the skills, seeing them as a form of technique, and
thus not see them as related to, or based on the self, or on the context of
relationship to others.

6
Such as Feste in Twelfth Night and the fool in King Lear. Even poor Yorick in Hamlet was such a
jester.
7
‘O would some power give us the gift to see ourselves as others see us. It would free us from many
a blunder and foolish notion.’
 5 Integrity and Virtue 145

Lederach (2005) extends the idea of empathy in his approach to con-

flict resolution in ideas akin to Aquinas’ prudentia, involving: stillness,
humility and sensuous perception. By ‘stillness’ he means pause to be
open to the other. It involves the practice of attentiveness and awareness.
This has again to do with ontology, the person, not with tools. Humility
is enabled through engagement with the other, showing one’s place in
wider projects and narratives, and involves the recognition of my rela-
tionship with the other and therefore that the world is not summed up
in my needs—the opposite of narcissism. Sensuous perception involves
perception of the physicality of the space, and an appreciation of that,
and often this requires a physical sense of otherness, of light, colour, tex-
ture, touch or smell, such as might be found in gardens or wilder nature
or religious buildings.

Justice

If phronesis and empathy are two virtues that enable clarity about and
awareness of the social and physical environment, justice enables fair
and disinterested practice in those relationships. As noted in relation to
professional principles, justice can involve several different meanings,
from fairness as equal distribution to receiving just deserts. Perhaps the
key point about justice is concern for the other, for fair treatment that
applies to all. This demands both rationality, with attention to deserts,
and awareness of the needs of the other. This connects justice directly to
accountability. This applies to relationships both within the organization
and outside. In Chap. 6 I will show this relates directly to the concern
for fairness and remuneration. In Chap. 7 I will show how this leads to
a concern for the practice of responsibility in the supply chain. Both
of these will be expressed by the leader, in the light of a concern for
the members of the organization and for the core moral purpose of the
organization. It will also be expressed in relation to respect for the wider
justice enshrined in law. In all this, justice is focused on relationships
and is in turn closely related to the care or respect for the other and for
a sense of self-esteem. Justice in this sense is a capacity for fairness, both
inside and outside the organization. This relates directly to the care of the
146 The Practice of Integrity in Business

employees in the organization and to the development of meaning in the

sense of self and organizational value.
How this is embodied in the organization is of equal importance,
demanding both a clear philosophy of justice and procedural justice that
anchors the idea in the practice. Once more members of the organization
are able to see the embodied virtue.

Respect

Equality of respect (Outka 1984) is most often expressed as respect for

the rational autonomy of the other or unconditional positive regard. The
first of these is very Kantian and runs the danger of excluding those who
are not rational individuals from respect. The second runs the danger
of including all, without challenge of their responsibility. The Christian
analogue of respect is agape (Outka 1984). Often seen as unconditional
love, it is, rather, an attitude of care that sees the other as of ultimate
worth, as well as capable of negative practice. As such, it directly affects
how the other is seen and empowered, but retains an awareness of real-
ity. It is important, however, in seeing agape as a professional virtue to
see how it is located in the practical context. Campbell (1984) notes
how, far from being a ‘precious’ virtue, it is highly practical. It generates
empathy and thus is balanced—enabling professional distance as well
as particular concern. It is not simply an affect but a matter of the will,
enabling shared power. It does not attempt to dominate but enables the
other to take freedom, treating her as subject not object. It recognizes
and appreciates the common humanity of the other, never losing a sense
of their particular needs. Agape also involves veracity and fidelity—both
focused on integrity, as being true to the self and other. Veracity is not
simply about telling the truth to the client. It is, rather, about sharing the
truth in such a way that he or she can begin to take responsibility for it.
In a sense the practitioner takes on a pedagogical role, enabling the cli-
ent to reflect and to explore. Genuine reflection and exploration will not
only begin to handle the truth about the situation; it will also explore the
different possibilities for the future. Fidelity is also about truth, in this
case remaining true to the different stakeholders—in effect, commitment
 5 Integrity and Virtue 147

to people and projects. It is precisely this truth and the capacity to com-
municate the truth that was practised in the computer games case. This
contrasts sharply with the Arthur Andersen case in Chap. 1. That lost any
fidelity to the clients, leading to a lack of respect for the client, seen only
as a means to an end. Hence, they were unable to see the reality of the
relationship or any consequences of not respecting the client.8
Agape is often seen as a virtue that is entirely other-centred. Though
it is not based in the attraction of the other, feminist philosophers (cf.
Koehn 2005) argue it is based in mutuality, care of and respect for the self
as much as the other. Some oppressive behaviour to women can often be
seen as based on a religious stress on altruism as focused on motherhood.
If empathy and justice focus on awareness of the social and physi-
cal environment, and with that on accountability, there are other virtues
which focus on proactive responsibility and creativity, principally hope
and eros.

Hope

Hope has often been most closely associated with the so-called theo-
logical virtues: faith, hope and love.9 However, any organization needs
hope if it is flourish, not least because it is necessary in empowerment
for change. Hence, it is directly relevant to leadership, and the capacity
to create or give hope. For many people the idea of hope is about giving
hope to someone and about the ground of that hope, based on the action
of another. Medical hope, for instance is often expressed in terms of the
medical model, based on the action of the doctor or therapist. Here there
is a clear outcome, health, as the ground of hope. Hope in this sense is
future-orientated.
Hope, however, is more complex than a passive acceptance of the work
of the other, involving existential as well as doctrinal dimensions. Hope as
a virtue is about the capacity to envision and take responsibility for a sig-
nificant and meaningful future. As such, it is distinct from a generalized
8
A good example of not respecting clients is the miss-selling of PPI in the UK. See http://www.
guardian.co.uk/business/2011/may/05/how-ppi-scandal-unfolded. Accessed 31/7/13.
9
I Corinthians 13.
148 The Practice of Integrity in Business

attitude of optimism. Snyder (2000) suggests that the development of

hope as a real virtue depends upon three factors—goals, pathways and
agency—thus connecting directly to the practice of responsibility.

Goals

The capacity to hope is generated through a sense of morally significant

purpose. Such good hope provides meaning which affirms the worth of
the person or group. In the light of such purposes, realistic goals need to
be set out. Hopefulness develops through goals which can be achieved.
Hope may be a major virtue, but it needs specific aims for it to be mean-
ingful, aims worked through in dialogue.

Pathways

Hopeful thinking looks to find ways to the goals. This involves a devel-
opment of the creative imagination to be able to see what ways forward
there are. This is enabled through the development of method and
through practice, not least the widening of possibilities through negotia-
tion of responsibilities. Snyder (2000) notes that hope is associated with
the development of multiple pathways. Such pathways increase through
collaborative work with others, which is enabled as resolution and shared
responsibility are achieved. Through that real possibilities began to
emerge as the basis of hope.

Agency

Hope centres on the experience of the person as subject, capable of deter-

mining and achieving the goals she looks to. This is achieved to begin with
through the development of the narrative and its related skills. In particu-
lar, hope is generated when the person finds she is able to own and take
responsibility for the feelings which may have dominated her life. It is also
achieved by the owning of values, the development of one’s own method
and by the practice which demonstrates capacity in the relationship.
 5 Integrity and Virtue 149

Realistic Hope

If hope is to be realistic, then, as Lester (1995) notes, it cannot thrive on

deceit or untruth. Enron generated much hope for its employees and for
its stakeholders, but all of it was based on thinking that had not reflected
on purpose, and which had not been subjected to the challenges of criti-
cal thinking.

Ground of Hope

In all this it can be argued that the primal ground of hope is not in the
future but in the present, and above all in affirmative relationships. Many
people have a sense of being hope-less in themselves. They feel this largely
because they have internalized the explicit or implicit judgement of sig-
nificant others. The ascription ‘hopeless’ often means that they have no
perceived worth, and therefore by definition no future. For leadership to
enable hope, then, means developing a culture of respect that values the
members of the group or institution, the development of decision-making,
process and partnership that enables clarity about goals and maximizes
pathways. In the next chapter I will show how hope relates to the develop-
ment of vision and how this relates directly to the practice of responsibility.
Hope is also generated by leadership embodying the virtue of hopeful-
ness, showing how the future can be envisioned, and the worth of the
enterprise as a whole for that future (cf. Henry V). This is also reflected in
the practice of hope in institution, ranging from the possibilities for pro-
fessional promotion to different ways in which individuals might affect the
direction of the group, increasing possibilities and thus broadening hope.

Eros

It may seem strange to include a virtue related to business whose mean-

ing forms the root of the word ‘erotic’. However, the core meaning of this
form of love is love based on the attraction of the object (Outka 1994). It
is to do with a passion for something. Hence, it is focused on the attrac-
tion of creative practice, from exploration, to research, to enterprise.
150 The Practice of Integrity in Business

It is nicely summed up in the term ‘existential pleasure’, coined by Florman

(1976), focused on the profession of engineering. Engineering, Florman
suggests, is an attempt to engage with and utilize the social and physical
environment in order to fulfil human needs, desires and aspirations. This
first offers the joy of creating something, a bridge, a building, which may
have aesthetic and utilitarian worth: the joy of simply creating. It also
focuses that joy on wider worth, the pleasure of service. Florman writes:
‘The main existential pleasure of the engineer will always be to contrib-
ute to the well-being of his fellow man’ (ibid., 147). In turn, the leader
and organizations can take pleasure in creating, serving and enabling,
embodying eros as a virtue. Hence, eros is tied to motivation. In the next
chapter I will note different motivations in the workplace. Tillich (2001,
132–133) argues that for eros to be balanced it has to be alongside agape
and philia (friendship), and it possible to see much of the cause of the
credit crisis as focused on unbalanced eros, from the pursuit of money or
the thrill of the market.
If hope and eros focus on creativity, then two other qualities, not often
seen as virtues per se, are needed to hold together the tension between
commitment and creativity and the complexity which is the context of
both: faith or trust and negative capability.

Faith/Trust

Fowler (1996, 394 ff.) defines faith as:

the foundational dynamic of trust and loyalty underlying selfhood and

relationships. In this sense faith is a human universal, a generic quality of
human beings.

Such faith will vary from complete trust in the other to partial or work-
ing trust. Trust can be seen as an essential prerequisite to relationships
and therefore key to leadership. It is not clear how a leader can lead with-
out trust. However, such trust is based on the practice of responsibility
and related virtues, such that members of an organization can see that a
leader has credibility. Such credibility is based on the core competence of
 5 Integrity and Virtue 151

the leader, knowing what she is doing, and about the social and physical
environment within which she operates (the first mode of responsibility),
the capacity of the leader to give a credible account and be open to ques-
tion (the second mode) and the capacity of the leader to enable shared
responsible practice (the third mode). In effect, such trust is always con-
ditional upon an adult (mutual) relationship with the leader, not one
based on dependency, or the assertion of power over followers. Hence,
trust is a function of ongoing integrity. In the final chapter I will draw
out how the different aspects of integrity relate to trust. It is sufficient at
this point to suggest that trust can be seen as a virtue, a capacity that can
be developed and practised, and thus enabled in an organization. The
extreme wings of trust would be inability to trust (total scepticism) and
naïve trust (giving trust to another without grounds).

Negative Capability

I thought it important to give this ‘virtue’ space to itself. There are ele-
ments of it in other virtues noted above, but this focuses on handling
complexity and ambiguity (cf. de Beauvoir 1997). The term was coined
by Keats, who ascribed to Shakespeare’s writing as a whole the capacity
to be open to ‘all the multifarious otherness of the world and human
beings’(Ou 2009, 9), and not be drawn into either particular interests
or thinking which tries to end uncertainty too quickly. This is critical to
handling different narratives, and the cognitive and affective aspect of
those narratives. It is important for holding together very different values
that may be equally important, and for avoiding polarized thinking and
attempts to make one view dominant. It is important in handling vari-
ability, uncertainty, complexity and ambiguity.

Integrity
The argument thus far is that integrity involves taking responsibility for
ideas, values (and associated feelings) and relationships now and in the
future. In one sense, as Audi and Murphy (2006) observe, this makes
152 The Practice of Integrity in Business

integrity a virtue which is different from moral virtues in general.

Moral virtues, such as justice, have some clear moral content which
can help us determine what is right. The idea of integrity, as we noted
in the first chapter, does not of itself provide such content or provide
motivation to be ethical. Hence, Audi and Murphy view integrity as
a necessary but second-order virtue, more to do with how we make
moral judgements than the actual moral content. Scherkoske (2013)
makes a similar distinction in suggesting that integrity is an epistemic
virtue. Thus, just as ‘epistemic virtues such as accuracy, open-minded-
ness and analytical insightfulness do not specify any particular content,
integrity does not supply a characteristic thought, either’ (Scherkoske
2011, 201).
Scherkoske describes the virtue of integrity as ‘a stable disposition that
reliably places its possessor in good epistemic position and leads to cogni-
tive success’ (2013, 84). Critically, this involves ‘reason-responsive epis-
temic habits, skills and practices that reliably place their possessors in
good epistemic position’ (ibid., 90). This is an important view of integrity
as a virtue, but leaves several questions unanswered. Principally, it raises
questions about the narrowness of the focus on cognitive success. As I
have argued, integrity is as much about relational knowledge, of the self
and others, as about rational knowledge. If we are to view integrity as a
virtue, then it would seem to be a complex capacity involving metacogni-
tion, mindfulness, and moral relationships and responsiveness. The first
of these (Flavell 1987) involves the capacity to the think about cognition,
focused on reflective practice. The second involves holistic awareness,
enabling both the development of the observing self and thus awareness
of the self and social and physical environment, and also an awareness
and acceptance of impermanence, the continually changing nature of
life (Marlatt and Kisteller 2003). This includes knowledge of one’s own
capabilities and limitations. Awareness of social relationships inevitably
involves determining meaning and response. Hence it is not clear how
this could divide the cognitive from the affective or practical or moral.
The key to the computing case above was that the board was not simply
trying to work through rationally to a moral solution. They were trying to
understand their own initial affective responses, and what this challenge
meant to their relationships.
 5 Integrity and Virtue 153

The focus on the work of the virtues above suggests that, whilst it is
possible to make a distinction between moral content and means, the two
are connected. Once we accept that moral decision-making is not simply
a rational activity, and that there are competing views of the good based
on relationships, then enabling critical reflection on the self in relation-
ship is not secondary to the moral decision-making. Without it, it is
not possible to arrive at a proper understanding of the different moral
elements, precisely because the moral values, principles and so on are all
a mediated by the different relationships we are involved in. The impor-
tance of reflective practice focused on the self and social awareness is
critical to proper understanding of moral meaning.
It is worth noting that epistemic distance is a theme which recurs
through all the virtues note above. Empathy, for instance, involves the
distance to see the other as other, and not simply the same as you. In one
sense this takes us back to Aristotle’s view of virtues as focused on the
mean. The two extremes of the virtues are precisely those which involve
good judgement being overtaken by the passions involved in the two
extremes. In courage, for instance, fear overcomes the person’s judge-
ment, leading to cowardice. At the other extreme foolhardiness is based
on an impulsive response going against good judgement. It could be said
that epistemic distance is a key element in all the moral virtues.
Scherkoske argues that all virtues are connected to key motivations.
The motivation for pursuing integrity as an epistemic virtue is the search
for truth or justification. Hence, one would characteristically think of
what will answer this quest. But, once more, this would seem to take his
view of integrity closer to a moral virtue precisely because in addition
to a disposition to develop and maintain convictions in a responsible
way, and awareness of the quality of one’s judgement and convictions,
Scherkoske wants to add a disposition to do justice to one’s convictions
in action.
The motivation to develop integrity as a moral virtue is clear. First,
persons and organizations are concerned for reputation, as I have noted.
This is not simply a business case, but about experienced sense of worth.
Second, when a person or organization is involved in any indiscretion,
such as the recent VW scandal, there are associated feelings of failure and
shame. Critical to the feeling of shame is that it attaches to the person
154 The Practice of Integrity in Business

or organization. Guilt is more focused on the action (Robinson 2008).

This is precisely why major organizations find it very difficult to deal with
breakdowns of integrity, because they imply something about the nature
and culture of the organization and its leadership. It is also why the natu-
ral response is to seek to deny that the organization per se is corrupt.
I will examine this dynamic in more detail in the last chapter through the
case of Siemens. Third, in a complex business environment the identity
of the corporation and its leadership are constantly being scrutinized by
the different relationships and their associated narratives. Moreover, in an
age of social media, where any significant event can be globally available
within minutes, these narratives are constantly testing the integrity of the
organization.
In that light it is difficult to see integrity as simply a virtue. It is better
seen as an interconnected collection or cluster of virtues (Solomon 1992,
2005). Cox et al. (1999) suggest that what connects these virtues is the
idea of successfully taking one’s life seriously. They argue that this might
involve different aspects of one’s life (personal, intimate, social, profes-
sional, aesthetic, intellectual and emotional). I have argued thus far that
all aspects are interconnected, and that a more exact focus of interconnec-
tion is about truthful re-presentation of the self or organization. The criti-
cal connection of the virtues, then, becomes responsibility. This involves
first taking responsibility for the self and how one relates to the other.
This includes responsibility for meaning and practice (values, worth,
purpose, action and relationships). The second aspect involves responsi-
bility for giving an account, and the third involves taking responsibility
for embodying that meaning and the significance of the relationships in
practice.
This account of integrity does several things. First, it shows how very
different elements can be held together. For example, it shows how inte-
gration may both be about finding congruence in values but also about
giving space to different values. Second, it shows how the person of
integrity cannot be ‘complete’. Integrity is a learning idea which involves
engaging often conflicting narratives, and discovering creative possibili-
ties. Third, it shows how holistic dialogue and narrative development
are central, involving not just reflection on meaning but also reflection
on ongoing relationships, and the embodying of meaning in practice.
 5 Integrity and Virtue 155

Hence, integrity can be compatible with changes in behaviour and substan-

tial conflict, internal and external. Fourth, it links directly to the practice
of the virtues. The practice of such virtues embodies responsibility and
enables its development in all its modes. Practice of the intellectual vir-
tues enables the development of agency and self-governance, demanding
articulation of ideas, values and practice, which clarifies both what we
think and do. Patience and temperance enable a focus on deliberation
and dialogue which is not contrived or oppressive, but rather focused on
the practice of phronesis. Courage enables the practice of accountability,
needed especially where the account given involves possible conflict with
other narratives. Empathy is needed to develop awareness and apprecia-
tion of the social and physical environment. Humility is also needed to
be fully aware of how the person relates to the social and physical envi-
ronment. Care and respect are needed to develop the frame of dialogue
which enables responsibility to be practised. Faithfulness/trust and justice
have to be practised if relationships are to be sustained and the authority
of leadership developed. Hope and eros have to be practised if possibilities
and their worth are to be recognized and grasped. Negative capability is
needed alongside courage, not to be swayed by powerful and polarized
narratives.
Fifth, the issue of holism leads to a focus on virtues in dialogue. The
practice of open and critical dialogue precisely leads to the develop-
ment of responsibility. It enables the development of agency, demanding
articulation of ideas, values and practice, which clarifies both what we
think and what we do. Articulation, and the development of narrative,
become essential for reflection and learning, involving ongoing herme-
neutics. They also enable a fuller awareness of the social environment,
and better appreciation of the worth in relation to the self and others.
Dialogue also demands the development of commitment to the self and
the other. It is not possible to pursue dialogue without giving space and
time for it to develop, and this in turn demands a non-judgemental atti-
tude. Commitment to the self and others is also essential if the potential
critique of values and practice is to emerge from articulation and reflec-
tion. Dialogue itself also sets up a continued accountability with those
involved. This is partly because it sets up a contract, formal or informal,
that establishes expectations that are, in turn, continually tested by that
156 The Practice of Integrity in Business

dialogue. It also involves being open to plural voices and how they relate
to core meaning. The focus on virtues once more moves dialogue beyond
Habermas’ principle-centred approach. It is the development of character
which enables individuals and organizations to handle the ambiguity of
social environments, and to hold together the different relationships.

Conclusion
Virtues, then, are connected through the practice of responsibility,
and integrity is defined in terms of those three modes of responsibility.
This points to a view of integrity which demands intentional practice.
Integrity does not simply happen, nor is it an attribute you have; it has to
be worked at in a disciplined way. Space has to be given for the virtues to
be practised. Hence, Moore (2012) asks how we can facilitate the virtues
in corporate governance. This inevitably raises the question of how the
integrity of the organization can be developed. In the next two chapters
I will explore governance and the culture of integrity, and integrity in
corporate relationships.

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method acting. Journal of Moral Education, 29(1), 87–99.
 6
Anchoring Integrity

Abstract This chapter focuses on governance and organizational integ-

rity. First, the case study of corporate remuneration shows something
of the growth of integrity and compensation philosophy which engages
both meaning and relationships, focused on giving an account of justice
opened to all stakeholders.
This leads to an overview of developing a culture and narrative of
integrity, under the three heads of orienting, institutionalizing and sus-
taining. From board to reporting the focus is on a dynamic of dialogue,
embodying the three modes of responsibility. This shows how integrity
is anchored in the organization through engagement with vision, values,
procedures and relationships.

In Chap. 3 I looked at the nature of the business organization and argued

that one aspect of integrity was openness to dialogue, which was focused
on the complexity of the business environment and engagement with
different narratives. This chapter focuses on governance and bringing
together a shared view of values. In particular, I will explore a key func-
tion of governance, which is determining the level of leaders’ remunera-
tion. Recent governance practice has supplied procedures for dealing

© The Author(s) 2016 159

S. Robinson, The Practice of Integrity in Business,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-51553-7_6
160 The Practice of Integrity in Business

with remuneration, not least through the remuneration committee of

the board and the use of more independent board members. I will argue
that this is not sufficient for the practice of integrity, because it does not
enable a thought-through perspective on justice, and does not enable
dialogue with stakeholders to test such an account and develop it. I will
look at some of the arguments offered around justice and remuneration,
none of which stands rigorous testing, and argue for the development of
procedural integrity through setting out a compensation philosophy.
From the case of remuneration I will examine the ways in which good
governance can develop a culture of integrity, from the dynamics of the
board through to reporting.

Big Bonuses and Justice

Governance involves steering the organization in an agreed direction, and
through the challenging waters of the social (including legal) and physical
environment. Agency theory tries to explain the need for a firm’s board
to deal with the remuneration of the CEO and other leaders in the firm.
Broadly, the theory suggests that the principals of the firm, the sharehold-
ers, need to hire an agent to run their business for them, not least because
the task is too big for them. The CEO is highly skilled and understands
the business more than the shareholders, and the function of the board
then is to monitor the CEO, ensuring that he or she is keeping the firm
moving in the right direction. One of the key functions of ensuring that
the CEO achieves the desired performance is then to provide appropri-
ate reward. Setting the proper level for that demands an open procedure.
This is a matter of procedural integrity. Awarding bonuses needs to make
sense, not least because there may be stakeholder relationships which are
affected by the size of the bonus. For instance, significant bonuses may
affect the return for shareholders or may occur in the light of company
bail-outs by government.1 This raises major questions about justice and
how it is practised.

1
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/2022636/City-bonuses-defy-credit-crunch-and-hit-
new-record-of-13bn.html
 6 Anchoring Integrity 161

The general procedure in large businesses is to establish a remuneration

committee of the board, ensuring a majority of independent members.
Does this model embody integrity? The definition of integrity that I have
argued thus far involves: taking responsibility for identity, including ideas
(including any theoretical underpinnings), values, worth, relationships
and practice; being accountable to the wider community and environ-
ment; and sharing responsibility for the future of the social and physical
environment. In terms of remuneration this would first of all require not
only stating the criteria for making a judgement about remuneration but
also understanding the underlying relational issues and even underlying
philosophy: not least, the meaning of justice.
I have suggested that justice is a key anchor point for integrity. A view
of justice is implicit it any relationship, partly because we judge who
we see and relate to each other through ideas such as fairness. If a busi-
ness does not make explicit its meaning of justice, it begins to avoid
the practice of integrity. Not surprisingly, different views about justice
begin to emerge which resonate with previous arguments. One involves
the libertarian argument (Nozick 1972) that compensation is just if, and
only if, the different parties agree to it. Underlying this is the assump-
tion that compensation is the business of the firm, and that the firm is
defined in terms of its board. Hence, this is less about justice than about
freedom—the freedom of the firm to pay employees what it desires (cf.
Freidman 1983).
Of course, there is a need for other criteria to determine exactly what
the level of compensation should be. Here, the argument goes beyond the
contract per se to the talent market and utility. The first of these begins
with the assumption that there is a limited market of leaders who are
capable of filling the core positions. Therefore there needs to be a com-
pensation package that will attract the best, and retain them, not just in
the firm but in the country (see Griffiths 2009).
Two further strands underpin this argument. The first is that the busi-
ness leader deserves this high recompense because of the nature of the
job. Leadership at this level is highly stressful. It involves long hours and
the continued responsibility for a large workforce, for the effect of the
company on a wider environment and for a market situation that is by
its very nature difficult and combative. There are very particular qualities
162 The Practice of Integrity in Business

needed to respond rapidly and effectively to crises and so on. It takes a

very special leader to survive the demands of that situation. The second
strand is the agency theory, noted above. Ekanayake (2004, 59) sums up
the premise of agency theory as: ‘agents are self-interested, risk averse,
rational actors, who will always attempt to exert less effort (moral hazard)
and project higher capabilities and skills than they actually have.’ Not
surprisingly, the principal will have in some way to control such an agent,
making sure that he does not violate the rights of the shareholders. The
most effective control mechanism, to curb the self-centred behaviours of
the CEO, and to motivate responsible behaviour, is high financial com-
pensation (ibid.). Compensation packages ensure that the leaders’ and
the owners’ interests are aligned. A clever way of ensuring this is to give
share options as part of a compensation package. This assumes that the
CEO will focus on the price of those shares for his own benefit, as well
as for the shareholders.
In addition to market, desert and agency there is a broader argument
about the social utility of the leader. Not only is the firm dependent upon
the leader for successful wealth creation, but this in turn has knock-on
effects for society. Griffiths (2009) expands on this, arguing that it is
reasonable to award the CEO several million pounds in pay and bonuses
if his or her actions lead to several hundred million pounds’ profit. This
provides a good outcome for the shareholders, to whom the CEO is
primarily accountable. It also creates wealth for the wider society. This
is largely expressed in the trickle-down theory: i.e. that wealth creation
eventually trickles down to the lowest-paid (Robinson 1992). Over time
the market increases prosperity and equality, including the creation of
jobs. Caldecote (1990, 7) can even argue that business leadership is ‘just
as meritorious as work in, for example, medicine, or social work for the
disadvantaged where direct benefits to the community can readily be
identified with the Christian duty to our neighbours’.
What emerges, then, is not a straightforward argument that attempts
to justify greed, as some have suggested, but rather a number of different
arguments, liberal, empirical and justice-focused, which are often used to
reinforce each other. The question is: at what point are these arguments,
and any underlying philosophy, put to the test, and who is involved in
the dialogue? There is little evidence in governance practice that this
 6 Anchoring Integrity 163

is engaged. The UK Corporate Governance Code (2012) stresses the

importance of transparency in this area, of procedure, with a remunera-
tion committee which has a majority of independent members. It also
ties remuneration to a merit view of justice, proper reward, and warns
against extremes of reward. The closest to accountability in this is the
involvement of shareholders being invited ‘specifically to approve all new
long-term incentive schemes’, and any major changes to remuneration
policy or procedure (ibid., 26). The first principle is striking:

Levels of remuneration should be sufficient to attract, retain and motivate

directors of the quality required to run the company successfully, but a
company should avoid paying more than is necessary for this purpose.
(ibid., 24)

What is not clear is the basis for attraction, retention and motiva-
tion, the meaning of quality or success or what counts as necessary. It is
precisely now that the dialogue has to begin if the practice is to reflect
integrity. Such a dialogue would first engage the arguments noted above.

Disinterested Freedom

There are two strands to this argument: the freedom of the different
parties, agent and principal, and the disinterested framework used for
decisions about remuneration. The two parties are free to make their con-
tract; the CEO is free to work within that contract. However, as noted
in Chap. 3, this is a view of freedom which does not relate to the reality
of business relationships. Other stakeholders have an interest, including
shareholders, employees and government, and for a company to maintain
integrity it needs to give a plausible account to the stakeholders of what it
deems to be just compensation. Dialogue here precisely tests the account.
The disinterested framework assumes an independent and rational
approach to all these relationships, involving the board, representing the
shareholders, determining the compensation. In fact, this is not always
what happens. Moriarty (2005) notes, first, that the CEO usually has
a major part to play in the bringing of independent directors on to
the board. A seat on the board can be very valuable, involving finance,
164 The Practice of Integrity in Business

reputation and improved networks. Hence, board members will be likely

to be grateful to the CEO, and thus tend not to use independent criteria
for deciding about bonuses. Second, for some board members it is a mat-
ter of immediate self-interest, such as executives of other firms co-opted
onto the board. It is in their interest to maintain a high rate of compen-
sation for the CEO of this company, because once they return to their
own companies they can cite the high levels of compensation elsewhere
and thus argue for similar figure for their own compensation. Hence,
the reality is one of power arrangements that channel the interests of
the leader. In other words the so-called disinterested freedom is far from
disinterested, and certainly not value-neutral.
Perhaps most importantly, the focus on ‘independence’ can mask a
lack of the practice of integrity, in the sense that the criteria for judge-
ment are generally not opened up to critical dialogue. The narratives of
the different stakeholders with an interest in the matter are not genuinely
engaged. The most obvious engagement is a long way down the line in
the AGM, when shareholders might assert some power. There are, how-
ever, many other stakeholders with a direct interest in the matter, includ-
ing employees and government.

Agency Theory

Agency theory is often connected to the focus on freedom, but the theory
has real problems in relation to compensation. The idea that compensation
would actually control the agent is problematic. The board would tend to
aim for a tight link between performance and compensation. This would
be less acceptable to an agent purely concerned for his own ends, being a
higher risk to him. Such a CEO would tend to pursue growth that gives
short-term benefit for him rather than long-term benefits for the sharehold-
ers (Bucholtz et al. 1998). Connected to this, it is problematic to assume
that CEOs are like any other shareholder, which is the basis of arguing that
remuneration through shares leads to a coincidence of the shareholder and
leader interest. Leaders have inside information that would enable them to
buy or sell shares at optimal times to maximize compensation. Again this is
short-term and not necessarily in the interest of the shareholders.
 6 Anchoring Integrity 165

Agency theory also offers us the agency problem, which, broadly put,
is that the CEO has the technical skills of management and knowl-
edge about the organization and the financial environment which the
board does not have. This makes it difficult for the board to control the
CEO. However, the evidence which comes from governance crises seems
to be to the contrary. Some CEOs argue that they could not know about
decisions made at different levels in a huge organization.2 Others in the
credit crisis, such as Fred Goodwin (cf. Martin 2013), actively avoided
gathering data about certain areas of the business. In other words, the
ascription of knowledge asymmetricality in the relationship between
board and CEO in agency theory is misleading. The CEO inevitably has
knowledge limitations, just as the board has knowledge limitations. This
is increasingly the case in the super-complexity of social media and the
internet.
The critical thing, then, becomes how the mutual limitations are
addressed. In other words, how can board and CEO work together to
ensure awareness of what is going on in the organization? Once more
this takes us into reflective and critical dialogue and away from myths
about all knowing charismatic individual leaders (Robinson and Smith
2014). The other ‘myth’ in the agency theory which is too often not
examined by boards is the view of the CEO as essentially focused on
financial reward. Solomon (1992, 118) sums this up as the ‘impover-
ished idea of Homo economicus who has no attachments or affections
other than crude self-interest and the ability to calculate how to satisfy
that interest vis-à-vis other people’. The basis for this view is simply a
narrow economic perspective. In other words it is the assertion of a par-
ticular assumption about values. In practice there is often no attempt to
question this critically. The model suggests that the CEO’s role demands
only skills and qualities focused on financial performance, that there is
no sense of mutual accountability or awareness of the social and physical
environment.
The practice of integrity in the board demands critical reflection on
such underlying ideas and values and how they are related to practice and
2
See, for instance, the CEO of VW http://www.theguardian.com/business/2015/sep/25/
volkswagen-appoints-matthias-muller-chief-executive-porsche-vw
166 The Practice of Integrity in Business

the relationship with society and the environment. This demands greater
dialogue within and outside the board, including reflection on how the
executives and the board work together.

Motivation

The empirical evidence about financial incentives actually motivating

good performance or alignment with the goals of the shareholders is not
promising. Several studies show little connection between high compen-
sation and improved firm performance (Mishra et al. 2000). Some work
even suggests that that high compensation decreases firm performance,
and a tendency for firms to focus on the individual performer rather
than the firm in assessing the CEO’s work (Blasi and Kruse 2003).
Other research suggests that, above a certain level, financial reward is
not effective. Key motivators rather include opportunities to practise
mastery, the practice of autonomous judgement, and tying into a signifi-
cant purpose (Pink 2011). There is a parallel here with the attempts to
develop the idea of business as a ‘true profession’ (Nohria and Khurana
2008), where motivation is based on fulfilling the core purpose of the
profession.
Other research suggests that, far from providing control, large com-
pensation packages provide an incentive to cheat (Taylor 2005), includ-
ing misrepresentation of the finances and other resources in order to
trigger incentives.

Wealth Creation

Tied to one view of the public purpose of business are variations of

the trickle-down theory noted above. However, there is little evidence
that the market place actually does intentionally or effectively lead
to an equalizing of wealth or well-being in society (cf. Summers and
Balls 2015). If that good were actually a part of the purpose of busi-
ness, then there would have to be clear indications of how this is being
achieved in the context of the business. It cannot be presumed simply
to happen.
 6 Anchoring Integrity 167

The Leadership Market

The idea that a limited leadership market should form the basis for an
ethical argument about high levels of remuneration is another form of
an argument that seeks to use a supposed empirical truth to take away
the responsibility of thinking through ethical reasons. This is how the
market works, so this is what we must do. In fact, none of this has been
substantiated. Research suggests that openings for CEOs are scarce (Kolb
2005). There is little evidence of many better jobs that would attract lead-
ers away. There is evidence of available leaders who would take the job
for considerably less pay. Many alternative approaches have simply not
been tested across industry, such as hiring leaders from within the firm,
or recruiting from different countries. In short, the idea of a limited lead-
ership market has little substance and there may be several other ways of
attracting leaders that have not been tested.
Empirical work in this area makes depressing reading when it comes
to even assessing the role of the CEO. Increasingly, the assumption about
the need for the CEO has been questioned. Khurana argues that the evi-
dence points to ‘at best a contingent and relatively minor cause and effect
relationship between CEOs and firms’ performances’ (Khurana 2002,
23). Across the piece, research points to no correlation between CEO
pay and corporate performance (Shaw 2005). There may well be points
where the CEO’s strategic thinking has made a critical difference, but on
the whole the leaders are faced with so many pressures and constraints
within the community and pressures from contingent events that perfor-
mance is always relative to these factors and thus often down to the good
or bad fortune that those factors bring. Of course, any such research may
be questioned. Nonetheless, it is clear that the evidence is sufficient to
make the assertion about the unique qualities of the CEO at least a mat-
ter of debate. In the case of the credit crunch, the stresses on the utility
of managers across all industries was such that many managers did not
actually have experience of the finance sector and in some cases did not
even understand the financial instruments that were being used. Conger
(2005) argues that behind this is an inflated view of the leader that harks
back to the romantic, almost mystical, view of the charismatic leader,
with everything dependent upon the one person. It is precisely such
168 The Practice of Integrity in Business

myths that lead to arguments that leaders should not be constrained by

the same ethical rules or perspectives used in the wider business. Hence,
Price argues that leaders need to be constrained by ethical codes that
work against such views.
As I noted above, there is strikingly little evidence of these ideas being
put to the test in the practice of governance. The arguments are simply
stated, assumptions and all, and kept within the board or remuneration
committee. There is also little evidence or any dialogue in the workplace
or beyond about the basis of judgement. Some tell-tale signs are in the
lack of challenge to leaders’ arguments based on logical fallacies. The most
obvious example is the slippery slope fallacy used by Griffiths (2009). The
slippery slope argument’s form is, if a is allowed to happen then the con-
sequence will be b: e.g. if we legalize assisted dying, then this will lead
to an increase in the deaths of elderly people who feel they are a burden.
In the case of remuneration, if we regulate CEO compensation more
carefully, then this will lead to the best CEOs leaving the country, and
even major financial firms relocating to other countries. This is a fallacy
precisely because there is no evidence that this would actually happen. It
might happen, or might not. The lack of logic means this is filled in with
all the underlying assumptions and worldviews noted above, not least
around the belief that bonuses are the only viable means of motivating
and retaining the top CEOs.

Justice
The debate around remuneration so far has raised several important flags,
not least around the nature of leadership, relationships at work and under-
lying meaning. The headline arguments have avoided genuine dialogue.
Along with the lack of dialogue there is, in general, an absence of narra-
tive about justice in the workplace. The practice of judgement is often
subsumed under legal and human resource management, but its meaning
is not owned by leaders or the organization. There are, of course, differ-
ent views of justice, from just deserts (retribution or merit [cf. Nozick
1972]) to distributive justice, based in need (cf. Rawls 1971) to an equal
opportunity to practise capabilities (Nussbaum 2000 and Sen 1997).
 6 Anchoring Integrity 169

The most obvious ethical point around merit, missed by most liberal
arguments, is that it is best expressed in terms of reward for success.
Bonuses would then be based upon agreed results, as well as other cri-
teria, including: hours spent at work; the skills and capacities that are
needed for the job; and the difficulty, stress, danger or unpleasantness.
The problem with such criteria is to determine which of these should
be used and how they are to be assessed. Connected to that is the prob-
lem of how to tie pay levels to levels of merit. It is hard, on the face
of it, to determine what these levels might be without comparing the
proposed remuneration with not just similar CEOs but also other lead-
ers and members of the organization. At this point the calculation takes
us into comparison not simply other leaders but the workforce in the
organization. Much of the debate around this, again, occurs outside the
workplace, with Griffiths (2009), for instance, arguing that we should
tolerate inequality if this leads to high returns. The argument for integ-
rity, however, precisely asserts that such accounts have to be tested with
stakeholders as much as shareholders.

Procedural Justice and Compensation

Philosophy
One thing all theories of justice agree on is the need to ensure that the
process governing executive compensation is just: the need for procedural
justice (Harris 2005). The practice of integrity, then, suggests at least four
interconnected things.
First, if the firm is to have a worked-out stance to re-present its iden-
tity, this needs to be tested with the different stakeholders across the insti-
tution. It is a mark of integrity that an issue such as justice, a core value,
be opened up to dialogue and testing, leading to a shared philosophy of
justice (i.e. understanding of what is meant by justice) and clear, stated
criteria that all can support. The development of a compensation phi-
losophy (Evans and Dalik 2012) allows a business to work through all
the issues noted above, examining shared values around rewards beyond
the economic. It also provides an ongoing basis for transparent critical
dialogue about leadership and justice. Such a philosophy could also then
170 The Practice of Integrity in Business

involve reflection on rewards for all in the workplace, including how the
corporation might want to relate to the practice of the living wage.
Inevitably this takes compensation away from narrow economic crite-
ria into the broader culture and ethos of the firm. This allows for reflec-
tion on the worth and purpose of the organization and of the different
areas and roles within it.
Second, this leads to another mark of integrity, taking account of rela-
tionships not just philosophy and values. Justice directly impacts on all
organizational relationships. Bloom’s research (2004) confirms that the
workforce is concerned about the basis of any view of fairness (cf. Rawls
1971). Any procedure and view about fairness represents the attitude
of the firm, the leaders, to the workforce. This means that developing a
compensation philosophy and procedure becomes more than simply a
mechanism for labour transactions inside an organization. Such systems
also play important social and symbolic roles, effecting a variety of out-
comes, such as employee commitment and performance. Shared under-
standing, values and culture act as a focus to commitment and effort,
something confirmed by research on the importance of organizational
justice for understanding the non-economic effects of compensation
systems (Greenberg and Cropanzano 2001, Rousseau 1995), suggesting
that fairness is central to employment relationships. It should not be sur-
prise that issues of justice are central to trust.
Third, Bloom (2004) also confirms there is a concern for procedural
justice. Justice has to be seen to be done. Procedural integrity requires,
as I will detail below, some codification, such that practice and expecta-
tions are clear. It also requires procedures for making judgements about
difficult cases or opportunities for appeal.
Fourth, such a view of dialogue offers a more profound expression of
workplace democracy, based in re-presentation rather than representa-
tion. Political democracy seeks to give a voice through limited mecha-
nisms, such as elections. The dialogue in this view of integrity provides a
genuine and focused voice into meaning and practice in the workplace.
This then provides the basis for the many different professions and other
stakeholders to challenge thinking and practice, develop mutual account-
ability and develop negotiations around shared responsibility for the
overall project.
 6 Anchoring Integrity 171

It also offers a model which is relevant to corporate governance. In

recent years there have been different theoretical approaches to the devel-
opment of democracy, from a focus on Rawls (Norman 2015) through to
the King III Report (2009) stress on stakeholder dialogue as the basis for a
less legalistic view of regulation. The dialogic model can begin to explore
ways of expressing regulatory ‘control’ through: formal and informal dia-
logue frameworks and contracts (which value diverse narratives); greater
involvement of internal and external stakeholders in the development
vision, value and practice formation; wider practice-centred reflection
(e.g. in beefed-up AGMs which model such critical reflection involving
board and stakeholders); and dialogue events in the ‘public square’. It is
to the development of such a culture that I will now turn.

Building a Culture of Integrity

Culture in this context is defined as the beliefs, traditions, values and
narratives that are shared in an organization and shape the identity of
that organization (see Trevino and Nelson 2008, 259, cf. Paine 1984,
MacIntyre 1981). In the USA governance has been based on legal frame-
works, such as the Sarbanes-Oxley Act of 2002. The danger of that is a
focus on compliance, with reliance on systems rather than on the devel-
opment of a culture of integrity.3
In the UK stress has been on self-governance, stressing compliance
with the UK Code or giving an account of alternative ideas and practice.
There is little here to develop dialogue or relationships of accountability.
The King III report argues instead for governance based on stakeholder
relationship, and for the development of an ethical culture. Such a cul-
ture bears the marks of integrity focused on the three modes of respon-
sibility at personal and institutional levels and the practice of dialogue.

3
T. S. Eliot notes how the avoidance of responsibility is often seen in the desire for perfect
systems,
‘They constantly try to escape
From the darkness outside and within
By dreaming of systems so perfect
That no one will need to be good.’ (Eliot 2004, 77)
172 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Goodpaster (2007), writing about a socio-cultural sense of conscience

suggests that there are three phases to developing this:

• Orienting. This involves leadership setting the course of the

organization.
• Institutionalizing. Making the company’s values part of its operating
consciousness.
• Sustaining. The transmission of the core values in practice over time.

I will use these headings to explore different ways of building a culture,

in which integrity is anchored through dialogue and narrative develop-
ment and in the engaging vision, values, properly constituted boards,
codes and so on.

Orienting
Orienting involves providing the ethical direction, the function of the
board. King III (2009) argues this should include: developing the vision
and values of the organization; ensuring ongoing dialogue; the use of
ethics expertise, either through appointments to the board or through
consultancy; and ensuring that ethical objectives and benchmarks are an
integral part of the firm’s central objectives. This should show ethical
meaning and values as core to the identity and purpose of the firm and to
all decision-making, ensuring that a member of the board is responsible
for developing the ethical culture and that resources are in place to opera-
tionalize the programmes, and demonstrating the practice of responsibil-
ity and core virtues in the board practice.

Vision

Often the organization’s vision comes from the leader. In the case of
Enron the vision was plucked out of thin air, including the vision of
being the biggest company in the USA. Integrity as defined here suggests
that creating the vision should begin with reflection on the calling of the
 6 Anchoring Integrity 173

organization and its members, and the history, purpose and identity of
that organization. In other words, it should lock immediately into exist-
ing relationships and dialogue, of either the organization or the wider
industry. It is precisely reflection on these relationships, and the related
worth and values, that will establish or re-establish an embodiment of a
good which transcends the institution.
The dream speech of Martin Luther King provides a dynamic exam-
ple of this. The speech in question seems to have been focused on the
future and visions of what might be. In fact, it was anchored in the past.
First, it focused on the general principles of freedom and equality, which
are partly analysed in the speech, not least as interconnected. Second,
King reminds his audience of the present complex difficulties. Again this
theme is present throughout the speech in different ways. This locks into
several ongoing dialogues which provided the context of the speech and
explain the dynamic. These included dialogues within the equal rights
movements about the best strategies for change, and dialogues with dif-
ferent figures in the American government about the possibility and tim-
ing of legislation. Dialogue with the government made it clear that, if
the speech in Washington led to violence, then legislation would not be
supported (Garrow 2015). This dialogue involved uncertainties on both
sides about trust. Hence, King began the speech with a carefully crafted
text which he aimed to follow. Only when urged to tell the audience
about his dream did he begin to move into a more extempore delivery,
though one based on a previous speech in Chicago (ibid.).
Fourth, as King moves into his focus on the dream, the vision is focused
on the US Declaration of Independence:

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still
have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a
dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning
of its creed: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are cre-
ated equal.’ (King 1963, 4)

The power of this dream is not simply the focus on a moral principle
but the focus on the narrative of the USA, and thus on an identity which
is claimed by all the sides in the dispute. The Declaration itself skilfully
174 The Practice of Integrity in Business

brings together freedom and equality and locks into shared religious
meaning (a further narrative strand in King’s speech). The narrative is
further underpinned by the very place where King stood: the Lincoln
Memorial. The very physical presence of Lincoln’s statue and the words of
the Gettysburg Address, with the first lines’ allusion to the Declaration,
deepen the narrative but also explicitly tie it to the ending of slavery. This
does not diminish the complexity of the narrative or the pain of conflict
at the heart of it. It does, however, engage identity, values, worth and thus
feelings.
Fifth, it is only in the light of that narrative, and related values and
dialogue, that King goes on to the future, inviting his audience to use the
imagination to see what the narrative might look like in practice.
This example suggests that visions or dreams are rooted, and thus the
importance of dialogue about value and worth. This begins to make sense
of the epigraph that appears of the front page of W. B. Yeats’ collection of
poems Responsibilities (1916): ‘In dreams begins responsibility.’ Quite lit-
erally, King’s dream enables the development of responsibility, reflecting
on meaning, value, purpose, worth, narrative and so on, but also giving
a public account of that and one that responds to the different contex-
tual and relational dialogues. With the engagement of imagination, then,
come the possibilities for the future, which I return to in the next chapter,
on the moral imagination.
Developing such a vision in business is a function of leadership which
enables the focus on the narrative, ensuring dialogue in the organization
which engages that. It is important to contrast this with consultancy,
which often focuses on image, where the reflection is driven by targets
and the utility of image in relation these. The focus on narrative and dia-
logue enables individual responsibility to lock into meaning, recognizing
not simply the worth of the organization but also the membership, as
co-authors of the ongoing narrative. It also enables shared meaning and
identity to develop.
Leading through dialogue is the same for any organization. The vision
may emerge from the history of the business, as with a family business, or
one based in cooperative principles. It may emerge from the nature of the
products made, or the supply chain and how these products contribute to
the good (from culture to health and well-being) further down the line.
 6 Anchoring Integrity 175

It might emerge from the wider industry and shared concerns. It might
emerge in the context of a great ethical debate. The extractive indus-
tries, for instance, by definition would seem to be working against sus-
tainability and often against society. Hence, working through the vision
and identity of such a corporation requires careful work which critically
engages a dubious industry narrative (Bice 2016). Vision can be engaged
effectively with such a corporation through wider industry reflection, as
in the Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative.4
The task of such a vision, then, needs to begin with the mind-set of
having a larger purpose that is bigger than simply making money or max-
imizing shareholder value. This involves exploring how the industry is
contributing to the common or greater good or how it is dealing with
any ambiguous aspects of its work. The relationships may be local and
immediate or wide and over time. Establishing such a vision, based on
engagement with all the narratives, including those of the workforce, sets
the value and tone of the organization and the basis of its integrity.
The exploration has to be a dialogue which looks at all aspects in a
holistic way, and engages with and values all the different narratives.
Through this process the vision is critically tested and the autonomy of
the members confirmed. It also focuses on the worth of the organization,
and how it relates to the wider good and thus develops the organization’s
identity.

Values and Principles

Establishing the values of an organization has often been problematic.

If the organization has begun to focus on vision, then the development
of values emerge from that, not least because vision work focuses on
worth and common good and, in effect, the corporate practice of phrone-
sis. This can be contrasted with the practice of value clarification (Raths
et al. 1978), a more anodyne process which sets out values and attempts
to identify a hierarchy, and then establish commitment to these from
employees. The underlying assumption is that difference in views about

4
https://eiti.org/eiti
176 The Practice of Integrity in Business

values should be avoided. This leads to standard expressions of general

values such as respect or justice, with no critical assessment and under-
standing of the values. This reflects a lack of genuine engagement from
members of the institution, with no context-specific examples of how
these values are embodied in relationships.
However, first, values are related to vision and purpose. Justice and
respect, for instance, are not simply general principles of relating, but are
focused on the community of practice. In health or education organiza-
tions, for example, this reinforces the idea that the goods of health or
education are inclusive, and that justice is integral to the experience of
learning or healing (just assessment procedures, equal access to care and
so on). The same can be said of responsibility, with focus on the patient
or learner taking responsibility as part of the community of practice for
good in their life. Hence, they are not simply customers but are actually
part of the community of practice. In other words, dialogue begins to
affect the identity of the different stakeholders. Second, there is a need to
subject values development to critical dialogue. The dialogue at this point
is about seeing what is meant in everyday practice. Does respect mean
being polite to staff, giving them choices, including them in decision-
making, keeping them informed about good and bad news and so on?
What does a firm mean by justice? A philosophy of compensation, as
noted above, aims to articulate this, feeding in different narratives around
organizational justice, including different philosophies of justice that go
towards establishing criteria for judgement (deserts, fairness, motiva-
tion, restoration) and different aspects of justice such as interactional
(relational) and procedural (the practice). These precisely reflect the
rational (philosophies of justice), affective (to do with relationships) and
somatic (to do with embodiment) aspects of holistic meaning, and all
are a part the critical dialogue that tests values. All can see what it means
to be just in that firm; all can critique any aspects of that justice. The
structure is then respected precisely because it has meaning which speaks
to the whole person and whole organization. By extension, this would
suggest that no structure (be it policy, procedure or line of management)
should be purely functional. It always represents some significant mean-
ing and value. A shared narrative and structure of justice, of course, may
be open to critique or development from many other narratives.
 6 Anchoring Integrity 177

The Board

Central to developing a culture of integrity has to be the development of

board which practices responsibility and associated virtues. The examples
of bad boards from Enron through to the credit crisis show a collection of
individuals that were not necessarily intentionally bad: i.e. intending to
deceive. It is clear, however, that none of the work of building integrity in
the board had been done. Too many crisis boards did not actually know
what they were doing, despite being populated by clever people. As noted
above, the HBOS board during the credit crisis was a good example.
They structured the board in accordance with UK Code of Governance,
which recommended structures and process in the board for determin-
ing remuneration, board appointments, monitoring board performance
and so on. However, the CEOs, Chair and most of the non-executive
directors had little or no experience of banking. The result was that they
had no understanding of the nature of the risks they were taking, and no
awareness or appreciation of the wider industry or social environment
and how they connected to the banks activity, little appreciation of the
meaning of banking in relation to society as a whole and the different
stakeholders, and no understanding of the different narratives that might
test their views. The result was a board better fitted to retail than banking.
The conclusion of Chap. 6 of the report is striking:

‘We are shocked and surprised that, even after the ship has run aground, so
many of those who were on the bridge still seem so keen to congratulate
themselves on their collective navigational skills’ (ibid.).

Sonnenfeld (2002) argues that part of the problem in the development

of boards is the simplistic application of governance code recommenda-
tions. These have included, e.g. from the UK Code of Governance (2012):

• The board should be effective and collectively responsible.

• The chairman/MD roles and responsibilities should be divided.
• There should be a balance of executives & NEDs on the board.
• Appointment of directors should involve formal, rigorous and trans-
parent procedures.
178 The Practice of Integrity in Business

• There should be a formal board performance review annually, with

planned training, board refreshment and regular elections.
• Companies should be ready to enter into dialogue with major share-
holders based on a mutual understanding of objectives.
• The board should use the AGM to communicate with investors and
encourage their participation.

All of these recommendations are important but require clarity about

the meaning and practice of responsibility and development of critical
dialogue. Just to pack the board with non-executive directors does not
assure effective dialogue. Just to use the AGM to communicate with inves-
tors raises major questions about how effective dialogue can be developed
in that context. The key point about reviewing the board performance
does not give us the key criteria for such reviews. Failure in HBOS was
due not to a lack of attention to tools but a lack of responsible engage-
ment—good technique but no engagement with meaning.
The King III Report (2009) begins to engage that meaning by setting
out three key principles of governance: leadership, sustainability and cor-
porate citizenship. The first is characterized by the core ethical values of
responsibility, accountability, fairness and transparency. The stress is on tak-
ing responsibility for meaning and practice and on being accountable to
all stakeholders. This includes awareness of development issues and also
of the continuing cultural context, in South Africa post-apartheid recon-
ciliation. This sense of business contributing to the common good leads
King III to stress the use of alternative dispute resolution (ADR) not
only as an action of mediation but also as part of ongoing governance.
The second and third principles, sustainability and corporate citizenship,
are seen by King III as primary ethical and economic imperatives of the
twenty-first century, at the heart of opportunities and risks for businesses.
The interconnections of nature, society and business therefore demand
governance that genuinely integrates all of these aspects both in report-
ing and in development, and King III champions this well beyond the
Combined Code, including even the governance of IT.
Inclusivity of stakeholders must also be taken into account in decision-
making and strategy. Hence, values such as innovation, fairness, and collab-
oration are key aspects of any transition to sustainability. The integration
 6 Anchoring Integrity 179

of sustainability and social transformation in a strategic and coherent

manner will, argues King III (13), lead to ‘greater opportunities, efficien-
cies, and benefits, for both the company and society’.
In the light of this, the company is a corporate citizen, from whom is
required the exercise of responsibility.
In short then, the King Codes bring together all the key elements of
responsibility more explicitly than the Combined Code, demanding
an awareness of meaning, purpose and role in society, clear integrated
accounting of practice, and shared response to the needs of the social and
physical environment.
All of this looks to build integrity into the culture of the board and CEOs
such that they take responsibility in all senses of the word, defining and
continually re-evaluating the purpose, aims and values of the organization
(King III 2009), being accountable to stakeholders and embodying aware-
ness and shared responsibility for the social and physical environment.
This includes, then, responsibility for plural stakeholders and also multiple
responsibility, with executive directors responsible both to the CEO and
also, with all other board members, to the shareholders for the direction
and operation of the firm. It is important in the dynamics of the board to
tease out those multiple responsibilities. Finance directors, for example,
have dual responsibilities that are not always symmetrical. As board mem-
bers they are severally responsible for governance with other board mem-
bers, but also accountable to the CEO or managing director. The chair
enables them to operate in the first of these despite the presence of the
CEO on the board. It is precisely the diversity of perspectives that would
enable clarity and transparency of the oversight. In effect, all this enables
dispersed leadership, a sense of shared responsibility and clear negotiation
of responsibility. The board would then begin to reflect wider discourse
amongst stakeholders and in the wider community. Ultimately, the chair
would be responsible for ensuring the practice of dispersed leadership.
These principles, which balance organizational sustainability with
social and environmental sustainability, then require much more focused
processes and structures, acting as buttresses, possibly including:

• A professional watchdog to ensure an external perspective that fully

enables critical reflection.
180 The Practice of Integrity in Business

• Sharpening of annual board review, possibly with provision of ongoing

board and board member coaching. This can also reflect on the power
dynamics in the board dialogue practice. Another reflective mechanism
is the values audit applied to the board. This involves guided reflection
with board members around the core values and how they relate to the
deliberative practice of the board (cf. Gregory and Willis 2013).
• Non-executive directors who reflect the range of stakeholders. In some
cases this might mean involving NGOs (see the next chapter).
• Developing ways of opening dialogues between the board and differ-
ent stakeholders. This might include: more frequent meetings with
investors, for instance, focusing on the core vision and values; board
members going out to develop dialogue with internal and external
stakeholder; setting up dialogues between the board and stakeholders
as part of the AGM. A good example of leadership dialogue is a CEO
of a hospital trust who regularly dons a white coat and engages staff on
the wards in dialogue. Much like the dynamic of Henry V, this casts
him in a different light, enabling more effective dialogue.
• The development of formal reflection in board meetings on how the
agenda relates to core purpose or values, and on how critical delibera-
tion can be improved.

Structure without meaning, dialogue and challenge risks wreckage.

Structure with these things provides holding moments (Western 2008)
for reflection and planning which bridges belief, value, virtues and prac-
tice. All of this sets the tone as one of both seriousness and support in
developing ethical meaning. It establishes how things are done, confirm-
ing, for instance, that that strategic decision-making requires careful con-
sideration of consequences to all stakeholders. It ensures that ethics is
articulated as a normal part of company policies, procedures, practices,
conduct and business agendas, and that all decisions should be preceded
by deliberation on ethical issues. It communicates a clear message that
ethical objectives are critical to the success of the firm and failure to
address these could affect the success of the firm.
An effectively structured board, focused on vision, meaning and val-
ues, can begin the orientation process described above, through devel-
oping critical dialogue amongst the workforce about visions and values.
 6 Anchoring Integrity 181

Key to this is effective connection between leadership and the staff as

the values and vision are worked through. Ethical leadership, then,
involves enabling the group and group members to critique their own
and the group’s myths—the big stories that give value and identity to
the group—not least through engaging other narratives that provide a
challenge (Western 2008). Hence, dialogue has to be part of that process.
A key member of any dialogue in every part of framing the culture has
to be the shareholders. There is increasing focus on shareholders’ active
involvement. The Financial Reporting Council (FRC) have developed
the UK Stewardship Code (2012), which focuses on identity (sharehold-
ers as stewards) and responsibility. The Code is careful to distinguish the
role of shareholder from those of leadership and management. However,
both identity and responsibility would be developed through effective
dialogue and identification with the narrative of the business.

Institutionalizing
Establishing a culture of dialogue and question requires clear anchor
points. Typically these will include a vision statement (compass), devel-
oped as above, a code of ethics (map), other procedures and regulations
that focus on supervision: i.e. enabling the practice of integrity at every
level, rather than simply compliance.

Code of Ethics

This may be a detailed code or one focusing on responsibilities (see

Johnson & Johnson Credo) or have elements of both. Developing a code
of ethics or conduct is not a one-off exercise but an ongoing process, sub-
ject to regular reflection. This may involve an annual review of the code
or more regular reflection, such as the meetings developed by Johnson &
Johnson. It might involve setting up an independent group or commis-
sion, as in the Nestlé case. Such a group would be responsible for mediat-
ing any allegations around code violation. The code then becomes part of
the development of a learning organization (Senge 1990), exemplifying
ongoing critical dialogue and the practice of integrity.
182 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Not all business persons or philosophers agree with the idea of codes.
Ladd (1980), for instance, argues that codes go against the very nature
of ethics. Ethics, he argues, demands autonomy, and codes encourage
unthinking response. However, whilst legalistic thinking, operating to
the letter of the law, can obscure the principles or spirit of a code, this
does not diminish the importance of framing a code as part of a reflective
culture. As the research of Milgram (2005) suggests, guidelines are neces-
sary, working against denial of responsibility.
In establishing the code of ethics, then, care must be taken to see them
as guides to ethical judgement and dialogue. To get this right, the pur-
pose of the code needs to be established. Initially, it will be a function of
the board to identify this, in consultation with experts and stakeholders.
Kaptein (2008) argues that the code should be linked to: the mission and
vision of the corporation; the company’s relationship to the wider social
and physical environment, so that ethical vision is reflected in the perfor-
mance vision; and the core values. Hence, the code should be linked to
the value narrative of the organization.
A code may be intended to prevent unethical behaviour (with a pro-
scriptive stress) or to promote and encourage ethical behaviour (focusing
on the practice of responsibility and how dialogue about that can be
engaged). Corporations tend to combine both elements. The first tends
to focus on typical ethical issues of dilemmas in that area, such as how
to deal with conflicts of interest, respectful treatment of stakeholders or
the company judgement on receiving gifts. The second focuses on broad
responsibilities, encouraging thought about how they will be managed.
The code may have several focuses. It may be intended primarily for
leaders, managers and employees, or may include external stakeholders,
such as in the supply chain (see the next chapter) or in partnerships.
Professional codes are core to the identity of a profession and aim to
demonstrate the integrity of that profession to the public at large. They
are often tied to compliance procedures, not least the withdrawal of the
right to practise. Any worker or company, then, may be subject to several
different codes: industry codes (e.g. the alcohol industry), professional
codes, narrowly focused codes such as the WHO marketing code in the
Nestlé case, codes of governance or general codes to do with advertising
(see the Advertising Standards Agency). Hence, far from a single code
 6 Anchoring Integrity 183

dominating, they may reflect the different narratives in any organization.

Hence, Kaptein (2008) suggests that codes can link into relation to dis-
ciplines and stakeholders, including strategy, quality, human resources,
security, communication, law, finance, environment and community.
Working with codes, then, locks into both dialogue with different narra-
tives and the development of identity.
Key to the operation of a code would be the equivalent of an ethics
committee with an ethics officer and an independent chair. Such a com-
mittee might include advisory and arbitration roles, ethics training roles,
integration roles, focusing ethics in dialogue and responsibility. An ethics
officer would report to the board and implement the ethical programme.
This might include developing a good communication strategy, training,
structures for action, and auditing. In relation to strategy development,
an ethics risk-and-opportunity profile might be developed, identifying
its ethics risks through a process of engagement with its stakeholders. In
the next chapter I will give the example of Unilever’s integrated approach.

Whistleblowing

A whistleblowing procedure is a necessary part of any development of

integrity in the system. It is the back-stop for making sure that the orga-
nization really does look at itself, its meaning and practices. Often this
is where the shadow side of the organization is revealed. However, there
are issues with idea and practice of whistleblowing. First, it is less about
ongoing critical discourse than about post hoc revelation. By definition it
is reporting activity which has already gone too far. Second, it demands
that the individual take responsibility for the whole organization. It is
hardly surprising that few would want to take responsibility for that,
and for the very detailed data-gathering required or the problems that
any action might create for the person’s future prospects (Borrie and
Denn 2002). Third, whistleblowing can quickly move into an adversarial
dynamic, with the organization as a whole and with particular colleagues.
For whistleblowing to be effective there has to be a culture that accepts
challenge as a positive good, and thus rewards it. One aspect of this is to
acknowledge that all organizations have a shadow side and that ongoing
184 The Practice of Integrity in Business

self and organizational reflection, holding members to account, is critical.

The measure of success of such a system is the degree to which it enables
the practice of dialogue and the associated virtues, enabling mutual
challenge.
Three key aspects of whistleblowing, then, need to focus on reflec-
tion and dialogue. First, reporting problems might go to an independent
body, possibly connected to the ethics committee. This would be analo-
gous to the Muskie Commission in the Nestlé case, and, as there, the
allegations of bad practice can be raised in relation to key professional
or institutional codes, linking into anchor points of different narratives
but also the ethical identity of the organization as the basis of loyalty.
This works against the countercultures of any organization, which view
the whistleblower as lacking in loyalty (Borrie and Denn 2002). Second,
in the process of engaging whistleblowers their evidence should be chal-
lenged to ensure that it is not based on dynamics separate from the cen-
tral issues (Edgar and Pattison 2011). Third, once whistleblowing occurs,
it will lead in one shape or another to conflict. Hence, conflict resolution
approaches need to be in place (Lederach 2005, King 2009). I will focus
on these in more detail in the next two chapters.

Sustaining
For large corporations the only opportunity to reflect on action and cre-
ate dialogue is frequently the annual meeting. In a narrow context this
has a critical function in the practice of accountability, but it does not
usually engage in wider dialogue. A corporation, though, could use the
annual meeting to explore different ways of accounting for its practice
over the year. This might involve an extended annual event which has
the AGM as part of a one- or two-day conference. This would set the
tone of dialogue, with board members open to questioning or working
with groups around aspects of meaning and practice, and of plurality,
inviting different groups to share their narrative from inside and outside
the organization. In one event the tone of vertical and horizontal dia-
logue can then be set, focusing both on celebration of value (expressed
through successes, relationships and so on) and on the development of
 6 Anchoring Integrity 185

value expressed by dialogue. The staff relation to the board in such events
can also be facilitated by non-threatening shared events, which might
include elements of staff development.
In most large organizations it is the next level of culture development,
enabling the habit of dialogue throughout the organization, which is dif-
ficult to achieve. This can be helped by a clearer embodiment of dialogue
in the annual event: e.g. demonstrating mutual non-judgemental dia-
logue between board members and different levels through the organiza-
tion. I will note in Chap. 8 how countercultures can develop within an
organization, without attention to dialogue, including good modelling,
and clear anchor points such as those above. This might also be developed
in the system of individual annual review. This can be extended to every-
day practice, with business meetings and inductions shaped in dialogue,
or different perspectives collected through local community forums.5 The
firm’s restaurant might link meals to different cultural festivals, engaging
with difference at the level of hospitality and celebration. Dialogue can
also be extended to the social media. One healthcare trust, for instance,
uses Twitter to generate dialogue, and even to feed into board meetings,
so that discussions and decisions are communicated as they happen.6

Ethics Audit

An internal ethics audit might involve assessment of the ethical culture

of the company, including reporting on: the ongoing development of
the code, and allied risk assessments; all ethics-related policies and pro-
cedures—gifts and entertainment policy, declaration of interests policy;
feedback from training sessions, with training sessions that could be
developed as part of the communication system; steps taken to combat
misconduct; any other ethics interventions or initiatives; and weaknesses
in formal and informal systems and processes. Such audits can test the
gaps noted by Argyris (1964) between different narratives.

5
A good example of imaginative dialogue developments is from L’Oréal. They have developed a
stakeholder forum (involving over 190 participants) and an online stakeholder platform. See
http://www.loreal.com/commitments/sustainable-development.aspx. Accessed 12 May 2014.
6
http://www.leedscommunityhealthcare.nhs.uk/have_your_say/. Accessed 4/7/14.
186 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Reporting

Sustaining the ethical culture involves developing a learning circle (Senge

1990). Having worked through vision, values, responsibilities and prac-
tice, this leads to reflection on the practice and how far practice and
purpose are developing. There is not the space here to go into the details
of integrated reporting. Key to the practice of integrity is that any report-
ing should not simply present the triple bottom line but also link to
dialogue which reflects on narrative, purpose, value and relationships.
It is worth reminding ourselves that the root meaning of audit is to hear
(Latin, audire). Original audits were presented orally. This focus on the
voice reinforces the notion of narrative and giving an account, something
less about measurement and more about the quality of the engagement.
Part of any reporting will involve measurement: e.g. in relation to the
environment. However, integrity as argued for cannot be measured. A
good example of reporting is given in the next chapter, a bad one in
the final chapter (focused on self-presentation which does not engage
responsibility).

Ethical Culture, Narrative and Symbol

These include the development of symbols, ceremonies and rituals, nar-

ratives and heroes. Symbols enable the imagination to be engaged around
the core values and vision. The badge of Barcelona FC, for instance, brings
together the flag of Catalonia and the St George’s flag as patron saint. It
speaks of multiple identity that has a long history, and that involves more
than simply a football club. Another aspect of the club is the shirt spon-
sorship of the club for UNICEF, which symbolizes the strong sense of
social responsibility.
Ceremonies and rituals consciously bring groups together to signify an
important moment, for members or the organization. A good example is
the iron ring ceremony created by Rudyard Kipling.7 This envisaged new
engineers receiving a ring to remind them of their responsibility to the

7
http://www.networx.on.ca/~njdevil/mainpage/E_Eng/Academic/jj-ring.htm#4
 6 Anchoring Integrity 187

profession and to society. The original rings were said to have been made
from the metal of a collapsed bridge.

Virtues

The stress in integrity on responsibility and dialogue means that practice of

the virtues is key to any governance system. Moore (2012) refers to gover-
nance systems which crowd out virtues, with compliance more important
than taking responsibility for judgement. Moore (2012 cf. Osterloh and
Frey 2004, and Maitland 2008) works through how virtues can be devel-
oped in governance procedures across all levels of the organization, not least
phronesis in board deliberation (Osterloh and Frey 2004, 206–207). Critical
to this development is attention to the power and authority noted above.
The power imbalance within a board can be striking, with psychological
and intellectual power being asserted through dominant CEOs. Hence,
part of any board code of practice needs to address the issue of power explic-
itly, to ensure that the views and desires of particular constituencies are not
privileged (cf. MacIntyre 1999, 313). This also would require explicit atten-
tion in appointing members to the board to the virtues they would bring
to enabling dialogue. All this requires carefully designed systems of partici-
pation and self-governance (Norman 2015). The practice of integrity, as I
have tried to outline it, is concerned less with the communication of views
and opinions than with the quality of dialogic engagement at every level.

Conclusion
At the heart of this chapter has been the development of meaning in the
practice of an organization. Several things can crowd out such meaning,
from modern management techniques to quality control and regulation
(Thompson and Bevan 2013). Rozuel (2011) notes how this adds to the
dynamic of compartmentalization, with personal, professional and insti-
tutional ethics viewed separately and not focused on responsibility or
identity. This crowds out both the individual voice and the organizational
voice (Verhezen 2010, cf. Gentile 2010). With that the practice of the
188 The Practice of Integrity in Business

virtues, individually and corporately, is also crowded out. The case at the
beginning of this chapter showed how the voice of the individual and the
organization is worked out in dialogue. As this is worked through, both
individual and organization can give a clearer account of shared mean-
ing—in that case of justice—but also demonstrate the practice of the
virtues, in this case, the virtue of justice.
Working through the meaning and practice of justice thus became an
anchor for the practice of integrity in the organization, providing the
confidence of a shared relational and moral value. The broader culture
provides other key anchor points, some in the organization, some in the
wider industry, profession or community, contributing to the develop-
ment of narrative.

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 7
Integrity and the Moral Imagination

Abstract This chapter develops the positive responsibility of Chap. 4. It

explores responses to the complex social and physical environment illus-
trated by the Niger Delta case. In the light of social conflict it examines
the underpinning ideas of Total Integrity Management and the moral
imagination (developed through Lederach). Examples of this proactive
integrity then are explored around business and peace-building, human
rights and managing the supply chain, with particular reference to mod-
ern slavery.

Chapter 4 introduced positive responsibility as an element of integrity,

noting the challenges faced by business around determining how respon-
sibility might be fulfilled in a complex social and physical environment.
It involved developing an awareness and appreciation of these relation-
ships. Such relationships establish social identity, and response to them
determines whether the individual or organization actually takes respon-
sibility for ideas, values, the creation of mutual worth, and practice. This
offered an extended view of integrity which demanded shared responsi-
bility, negotiated with other stakeholders. The focus was on developing
creativity, with the individual or corporation always learning and looking

© The Author(s) 2016 193

S. Robinson, The Practice of Integrity in Business,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-51553-7_7
194 The Practice of Integrity in Business

to respond, and holding together in tension organizational sustainability

and social and environmental sustainability.
In this chapter I want to explore this aspect of proactive integrity in
more detail. In particular, I will explore further the underpinning think-
ing around the idea, including Fort’s view of Total Integrity Management,
and the key idea of the moral imagination. In one sense these ideas open
up further the complexity of this area, exemplified by the Niger Delta
case. Hence, I also want to show how the future, and associated complex-
ity, can be managed despite this: how proactive integrity can be practised
successfully. I will illustrate this with examples from business and peace-
building, the development of responsibility in the supply chain, and the
issue of human rights and business, focused on modern slavery. The last
of these will involve critical questions about regulation and governance
which are ongoing. I begin with the Niger Delta.

Shell in the Niger Delta

Shell has operated in the Niger Delta since the discovery of the first
oilfield there in 1956. After Nigeria’s independence in 1960, the Shell
Petroleum Development Company (SPDC)—a joint venture of Shell
and the Nigerian government—was formed. This included the Nigerian
National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC), holding 55 per cent, Shell,
holding 30 per cent, and the French company Total (formally Elf ), with
10 per cent (Ite 2004, 3).

Poverty and the Resource Curse

Poverty has been a persistent problem in the Niger Delta, despite the
fact that the region accounts for over 90 per cent of national export
earnings from oil production and exportation. The majority of Nigeria’s
oil wealth benefits a mere 1 per cent of the population (Ite 2004, 3).
Many of Nigeria’s problems surrounding conflict and development can
be attributed equally to wealth, as much as to the existence of poverty.
Resource-rich African countries have been among the poorest and most
violent on the continent. Underdeveloped countries become dependent
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 195

upon natural wealth, failing to diversify into and develop other industries
or invest in human resources (Frynas 2009, 135). This is often referred to
as the ‘resource curse’.

Business, Conflict and Peace

Although Nigeria is formally a democracy, it has a long history of corrupt

and unstable government. The wealth from natural resources has there-
fore been concentrated in the hands of corrupt political elites, with the
vast majority of the country living in poverty, denied basic infrastructure,
education and health services (Frynas 2009). This has led to ongoing
conflict, much of which has been centred on Ogoniland, in the southern
part of the Niger Delta. The community there voiced grievances against
Shell and the government through the formation of the Movement for
the Survival of the Ogoni People (MOSOP) in 1990. Following further
violent protests (unrelated to MOSOP), Shell withdrew from the Ogoni
area in1993, and the military government sought to eradicate the Ogoni
threat (Kline 2000, 383). In November 1995 the Nigerian government
executed Ken Saro-Wiwa, leader of MOSOP, and eight others follow-
ing accusations of inciting the murder of Ogoni chiefs in opposition to
MOSOP. During the trial, the ‘Ogoni Nine’ were tortured and denied
access to their families, legal aid and the opportunity to appeal against
the decision.

Shell’s Response

The response of Shell initially focused on the different approaches to relat-

ing to governments. It involved three phases. In the first, Shell tried to draw
a clear line between business and government. Moody-Stuart, chairman
of Royal Dutch Shell from 1998 to 2001, argued at the UN Conference
on Human Rights and the Extractive Industries (10 November 2005),
that: ‘We should remember that governments bear the prime responsibil-
ity for ensuring the human rights of their people. They have subscribed
to that great foundation document, the Universal Declaration of Human
Rights.’ Shell argued that their major contribution to communities in
196 The Practice of Integrity in Business

the Niger Delta was through the taxes and royalties paid to the federal
government. The revenues to the government from SPDC were disclosed
as amounting to $36 billion from 2005 to 2006, much of which was lost
due to corruption. The second response, developing over time, accepted
the need to revise practice and statements of value. The revised Statement
of General Business Principles, first drafted in 1976, promoted the com-
pany’s values in support of human rights and sustainable development,
leading to increased work with stakeholders. SPDC in Nigeria hired
consultants and development specialists in order to strengthen its con-
tribution to the Niger Delta, while also working with partners such as
USAID, UNDP and Africare (Idemudia and Uwem 2006). This differed
dramatically from the original, philanthropic, approach in the 1960s,
which involved ‘gifts’ to the local groups, more focused on ‘securing local
right of way’. This was about securing Shell’s licence to operate, and led
to a local ‘dependency culture’ (Ite 2004, 5). In 2006 SPDC signed the
Global Memorandum of Understanding (GMoU) with local communi-
ties near to the company’s operations. The overall objective was to build
the capacity of the local communities to negotiate with the oil companies
for development funding, and then manage the process of implementing
the development projects in their own communities. The GMoU had the
potential to create independent rather than dependent communities—a
vital aspect in creating ownership of projects and increasing sustainabil-
ity. Shell has invested over $20 million in over eighty projects, includ-
ing the construction of roads, health centres, schools and markets, water
schemes and the introduction of micro-credit schemes for small busi-
nesses. Key to all of this has been transparency, and increased autonomy
and shared responsibility of stakeholders, with a committee including
representatives from communities, government, NGOs and SPDC over-
seeing how the money is spent. All this begins to move into the practice
of positive responsibility.
The issue of responsibility comes to a head with Shell’s third response,
to the Saro-Wiwa case. At one level the company has remained distanced,
preferring not to respond publicly, or to use any leverage to question the
then government’s actions. Shell deny complicity with the arrests and
executions. Ruggie (2008, 20) defines complicity as ‘knowingly provid-
ing practical assistance or engagement that has a substantial effect on the
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 197

commission of a crime’. This opens up a grey area of responsibility. Whilst

Shell may not have known the exact intention of the security forces, by
financing forces controlled by the Nigerian government, the company by
action or omission could been seen as at least partly responsible for what
happened. Following a court case over allegations of human rights abuses
in the Niger Delta, Shell agreed to pay a settlement of $15.5 million in
June 2009. The company continued to dismiss all claims made against
them, maintaining that they played no part in the violence (Pilkington
2009). It argued that the settlement was a ‘humanitarian gesture’, intended
to compensate the plaintiffs’ legal costs and benefit the Ogoni people.
The debate is ongoing, with several NGOs arguing for better ways
of engaging the political situation in the Niger Delta. One NGO, the
Ecumenical Council for Corporate Responsibility (ECCR 2010), has
suggested that Shell’s response has not been sufficient due to failure to
a grasp the issues of government and local relationships. The result, it
argues, is a loss of trust. To regain such trust requires more detailed rela-
tional work, increased transparency and more reference to international
principles and standards, and independent groups. Its recommendations
included: establishing independent mechanisms for development proj-
ects; working with the federal government in setting aside a proportion
of oil revenue to address community priorities; establishing independent
frameworks for direct dialogue with communities where the company
operates; overhauling SPDC’s Community Relations Department; estab-
lishing a culturally sensitive and conflict-sensitive approach to commu-
nity relations; addressing the double standards employed in oil pollution
clean-up exercises through applying international standards (cf. Amnesty
2015); and ending gas flaring in the Niger Delta (ECCR 2010, 78).
Shell’s response to this closed with the following:

SPDC and Shell have always maintained that the problems in the Delta
can only be solved through collaborative solutions. The first step is to iden-
tify areas of shared interest involving industry, communities, government
and NGOs. SPDC looks forward to continuing to play its part and hopes
that others will take the opportunity to engage in constructive dialogue.
SPDC alone cannot provide the answers to the problems of the Delta, but
it has to be part of the solution. (Shell 2010)
198 The Practice of Integrity in Business

The Shell case, first, shows the complexity of the social and physi-
cal operational environment in which they were operating. The case
shows an interconnection between conflict, corruption, poverty and
sustainable development (Sweetman 2009, Fort 2007, Fort 2010,
Penh 2010, Westermann-Behaylo 2010, Oetzel et al. 2010, Jamali and
Mirshak 2010, Abramov 2010, Strong 2010, Bishara and Schipani
2010, Koerber 2010). All are part of a fragile social and physical envi-
ronment and therefore all, including business, contribute to the main-
tenance of that social and physical environment. At the heart of the case
have been corruption and a fragmentation of responsibility (Hennchen
2014). Shell clearly showed a development to positive responsibility
through working with different groups and with their settlement of
$15.5 million.
The development of the Niger Delta Development Corporation was
also potentially a good route to developing more equitable distribution.1
What is not clear is how the different stakeholders in the region have
begun to develop responsibility consistently. A key to the problem of
effecting positive responsibility has been the closeness of Shell to the
government. Ruggie (2008), in developing the UN guidelines on busi-
ness and Human Rights, noted the importance of business developing a
stance independent of government. He notes the positional importance
of this in developing effective leverage strategies that might influence the
actions of government: e.g. the threat to withdraw from the territory.
Such independence would also enable greater transparency and create
more trust amongst other stakeholders.
As noted in the earlier chapters, part of integrity involves responsibil-
ity for meaning and values. In the Niger Delta case meaning involved a
complex of narratives which have not been effectively engaged. High on
the agenda has been justice. In the last chapter I noted different forms of
justice which are always involved in organizations. The Niger Delta case
takes justice beyond the workplace with several different perspectives,
including:

1
Though even this has been dogged with accusations of corruption (http://www.premiumtimesng.
com/news/headlines/188697-nddc-diverted-n183bn-niger-delta-development-money-auditor-
general-insists.html).
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 199

– retributive justice, about settling accounts

– restitutive justice, involving recovery of losses, compensations for pain
– restorative justice, restoring or healing relationships between con-
flicting parties
– social justice, in which parties are given what they need achieve social
equality or resolution
– distributive justice, fair distribution of goods according to need
– environmental justice, which looks to take into account the future of
the environment (cf. Lambourne 2004).
Each of these views of justice links into different relationships and nar-
ratives within the Niger Delta case. They require different responses which
might begin to resolve the complex issues. However, few of these narra-
tives have been effectively engaged. The settlement moneys clearly try to
answer some sense of social justice, perhaps even restitutive justice, but
they leave untouched critical elements of restorative or retributive justice.
Of course, Shell could not begin to provide the latter. However, because
Shell crossed boundaries between business and government, it became
associated by many stakeholders with the retributive justice issue. Hence,
as in the Nestlé case, there is a demand (ECCR) for procedural justice
to provide some sense of independent review and independent criteria.
Business cannot supply that, but has to be part of that conversation, not
least because it has chosen to operate in a complex environment. It is in all
of the actors’ interests to seek resolution to these different claims for justice.
This presents a major challenge to the practice of integrity in business.
In Shell’s case this would have demanded ethical risk assessment at the
beginning of their time in Nigeria, and greater awareness of the com-
plexity of the social and physical environment. More broadly, businesses,
until recently, have argued that matters of justice in a conflict area either
not their responsibility or too complex to handle. The evidence, however,
is to the contrary. First, as I will shortly show, there are good examples
of businesses who have been successfully involved in peace-building.
Second, at the centre of the denial of responsibility argument is not lack
of competency or capacity to deal with these issues but rather a failure to
engage proactive integrity and to exercise the moral imagination. I will
turn to these now.
200 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Total Integrity Management and Conflict

Part of the problem in the debate about how business relates to con-
flict resolution is too many unexamined assumptions: conflict and peace
is characterized as primarily major conflict; the key business players are
viewed as transnational corporations (TNCs) and so on. Fort (2007,
2010) argues for a broader view of peace-building which recognizes that
potential conflict is part of any business relationships in and beyond the
workplace and in their local community. Most corporate managers recog-
nize the local manifestations of conflict in the company’s direct working
environment. They often use different terms than ‘peace’ and ‘conflict’ to
discuss these same issues, acknowledging that ‘localized social tensions’ or
‘stable working environments’. Hence this is an approach which applies
to small and medium-size enterprises (SMEs) as much as to TNCs. The
King III Report (2009) on governance echoes this with its stress on
Alternative Dispute Resolution, and how this can feed into the develop-
ment of an ethical culture in the organization.
This reinforces the very different view of corporate responsibility, argued
for in Chap. 4, which sees business as sharing responsibility with other
members of society for the social and physical environment. There are sev-
eral different ways of approaching this argument. Fort (2007) sets out the
argument in terms of trust, offering three different ways of viewing the trust
relationship of business with society: Hard Trust, Real Trust and Good Trust.
In the first of these, Hard Trust, business behaviour is governed by law
and key principles including: fiduciary duties of loyalty and care; federal
sentencing guidelines for legal compliance; corporate governance safeguards
such as codes of conduct and independent audit committees; and regulatory
agencies and rules to protect consumers, employees, environment, market
competition, workplace safety. The aim of this is to guard against abuses.
Real Trust is made up of concepts such as social capital, stakeholder
rights, workplace justice, corporate citizenship duties and ethical organi-
zation climates—all of these built on a philosophic platform of Kantian
rights, Rawlsian justice, utilitarian practicality and natural law. The heart
of this trust is integrity, which is fostered in the work culture. The primary
virtues associated with this involve honesty, promise-keeping, fairness
and respect, leading to mutual benefit for both business and society.
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 201

Good Trust moves into very different territory. This involves a personal
and professional search for moral excellence and spiritual identity, includ-
ing ‘a quest for transcendence that transforms our sense of self-interest’—
going beyond the possibilities offered by Hard Trust’s legal rules for good
behaviour and Real Trust’s reliance on organization-inspired moral rules.
Together these different types of trust form Fort’s concept of Total
Integrity Management (TIM), leading to three kinds of action: con-
tributing to general economic development that generates jobs, training
and equitable pay; avoiding corruption by respecting the rule of law;
and community-building—externally through corporate citizenship and
internally through small-scale mediating units where moral identity and
excellence are cultivated. All of this contributes to peace, in the sense of
non-violence in whatever form, as part of the business actions, uphold-
ing the law, working against corruption (strongly associated with violence
and conflict) and building peaceful cultures in and outside the workplace
(cf. Haski-Leventhal 2014). Nursi (cf. Robinson 2015) propounds a sim-
ilar view in arguing that ignorance, poverty and disunity (conflict) are
interrelated and endemic in society. Hence, the positive search for peace
is focused on finding ways which address all of these elements, including
business funding schools in areas of conflict (ibid.).
This reinforces the idea of shared responsibility for people, project and
planet, focusing on shared creativity and responsiveness, acting as a basis
for integrative thinking and action, which once more acts as a means of
account. Like accountability, it has to link to moral agency if it is to make
sense—in this case, shared sense. One powerful aspect of this is in engag-
ing the moral imagination.

The Moral Imagination

The moral imagination in business ethics is most strikingly associated
with the work of Patricia Werhane (1999). Werhane focuses on moral
deliberation, and defines it as ‘the ability to understand a context or set
of activities from a number of different perspectives, the actualizing of
new possibilities which are not context dependent, and the instigation of
the process of evaluating these possibilities from a moral point of view’
202 The Practice of Integrity in Business

(Werhane 1999, 5). Biss (2014) deepens this analysis, suggesting at least
four different aspects: perception, judgement, radical perspective and
moral possibilities:

Perception. Nussbaum (1990) and Murdoch (2001) both see perception

as preceding any theoretical or abstract moral ideas (cf. Bauman 1989
and Levinas 1991 on the primacy of responsibility). I can only choose
within the world I can see, in the moral sense of ‘see’, which implies
that clear vision is a result of moral imagination and moral effort to see
the other, as they are and of significance. She focuses on Henry James’
The Golden Bowl and the relationship between father and daughter,
and work of the imagination that enables them to see each other and
allow both to let go. Imagination becomes the means of ‘apprehending
morally serious features’.
Deliberation. Dewey (2007), for instance, sees imagination as a rehearsal
of the rational decision-making process. The computer games case in
Chap. 5 showed the exercise of imagination (around different world-
views and possibilities) in the process of deliberation.
Radical moral imagination. Babbit (1996) takes us into the realm of the
imagined self and of the imagined society, based on core moral values,
and these proceed into deliberation. This involves working-through of
identity in relationships. In the light of those different relationships
there is discovery of new moral possibilities.
Moral possibilities. This focuses moral imagination on action. It is about
creativity, seeing what is possible, with the suggestion that the moral
choice demands that possibilities be seen (in projects and people).
Morality in this sense cannot be abstract. Biss notes that moral deliberation
is often characterized as choice between stipulated options: e.g. to abort
or not to abort, to stay or not to stay. However, she argues that use of the
imagination can lead to possibilities well beyond such stipulated choices.
This takes us into aspects of the debate between Kohlberg (1984) and
Gilligan (1998) on moral development. The developed feminist perspec-
tive in that debate (e.g. Koehn 1998 and Robinson 2008) precisely was
able to see possibilities that were not apparent in individual rational deci-
sion-making because it focused on people and the relationships of the
people involved in any situation as well as values. The focus on relation-
ships involves reflection on identity, how the person or organization
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 203

relates to the other, what the significance of that relationship is (worth in

society) and, with that, the awareness of possibilities that reside not just
in plans or projects but in people. The person (self or other) or organiza-
tion (own or other) may not know if they are capable of making a project
possible. To be aware of that requires the exercise of imagination about
oneself and others, to see moral context, connections, capacities and so
on. Diamond (1991), building on Nussbaum’s view of Aristotle, takes
this further into the possibility of improvisation. The ethical improviser
can see the possibilities and respond with appropriate timing.2

Some of these elements are summed up by Biss in a case offered by

the academic and peace-builder J. P. Lederach. A philosophy professor in
Tajikistan was assigned by the government to try to get a Mullah warlord
(who had killed one of his close friends) to enter into negotiations to end
a civil war (Lederach 1997, 16–19). After many attempts at conversation
about ending the violence, the warlord asked the professor, ‘If I put down
my weapons and go to Dushanbe with you, can you guarantee my safety
and life?’ The professor answered, ‘I cannot guarantee your safety … But
I can guarantee this. I will go with you, side by side. And if you die, I will
die.’ Both travelled to Dushanbe for the formal talks.
The professor had exercised moral imagination partly through the
common framework of Sufi meaning. The enemy was seen in a different
light, which increased the possibilities for peace. There were no stipulated
options, and any movement required ongoing commitment to core val-
ues and people, and involved improvised response to the needs and of the
moment. All of this moves away from simplistic searches for solutions.
Lederach’s view of the moral imagination is worth further reflection.

Lederach and the Moral Imagination

Lederach (2005) is an important figure in peace-building theory and
practice. His practice has included working globally with a range of dif-
ferent groups and governments, in both conflict and post-conflict situa-
tions. Lederach’s theory builds on the work of Ricoeur (1992), arguing
2
This resonates with the leadership responsiveness of Henry V in Chapter 3.
204 The Practice of Integrity in Business

that identity, and with that, perception, is socially constructed, and

focused on narrative. Lederach, like George Mitchell (1999), recognizes
that the skills of peace-building are often in play long before the particu-
lar conflict has ceased. It is the commitment to the process of listening
and building trust that helps in leading to the cessation of conflict in the
first place. Lederach argues that the peace-building is less about tech-
niques than about ontology, and the social and environmental networks
of which the person or organization is a part.
Conflict is endemic, and is ‘among other things, the process of build-
ing and sustaining very different perceptions and interpretations of real-
ity’ (Lederach 2005, 79). This suggests that conflict is based on personal
and cultural dynamics which are often focused on sustaining any differ-
ence. Lederach suggests that the dynamics which sustain polarized views
of the world are largely emotional and defensive. In the worst cases this
leads to cycles of conflict in which the perception, and related values and
worldview, are reinforced by the response of the other. If this is true, then
it is important to address the perception of difference and the underly-
ing emotional narrative. For Lederach this means that conflict requires
transformation and reconciliation, not simply the focus on interests of
the parties or the cessation of conflict.
The moral imagination for Lederach is not confined to the act of moral
deliberation. It involves wider capacities, which echo and develop the
virtues of Chap. 5, and which are used to transcend the circle of violence:

• the capacity to imagine oneself in the web of relationships, including

enemies
• the capacity to hold together complexity and ambiguity and avoid
being caught in polarized thinking
• commitment to creative action
• a sense of vocation which accepts the risks of engaging with violence.

Relationships

Relationships, rather than values or principles, are placed at the centre of

peace-building, with perception of the other and the self as key. This involves
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 205

critical dialogue with the self and other. Such dialogue enables the imagi-
nation to perceive the self and the other differently, thus seeing new pos-
sibilities. Lederach argues that this is often seen most effectively when we
focus on the web of human relationships. This involves the ‘craft of watch-
ing webs’ (Lederach 2005, 101), seeing the self as part of the web and
developing an awareness of the social and cultural ‘geography’, how the
web interconnects with all of us, and how we relate to the web over time.
Central to this is looking for formal and informal points of connection.
One example Lederach gives is from African peace-building, where the
discovery of humanity in the other came through seeing the shared value
placed on grandchildren and with that the importance of legacy. Lederach
suggests that from such relational awareness comes also a different percep-
tion of time, setting out a longer-term perspective for peace-building. The
image of the web is further developed in terms of looking out for horizontal
and vertical connections, linking, for instance, different leaders, and leaders
with organizational members and different interest and cultural groups.
All of this chips away at narrow views of identity and community, link-
ing directly to the development of a strong sense of plural identity (cf.
Taylor 1989). Lederach focuses on dialogue as key to reconciliation and
transformation, focused on internal dialogue, the practice of ‘talking-to-
our-selves’. He draws on psychotherapeutic research in this argument (cf.
Biss 2014), suggesting that public conflicts are the external representation
of internal personal and cultural conflicts.3 This demands dialogue which
can examine underlying myths that provide meaning for the self or the
organization, and exploring how these have been used to set polarized
perceptions in place. This enables perception which focuses possibilities
on people, how they can see themselves in relation to others and what
they might be capable of in response to the other.

Paradoxical Thinking

This transformation and discovery also involves the embracing of para-

doxical curiosity and thinking. This again is firmly based on relationships
3
This echoes the Islamic idea of the greater jihad, dealing with the internal conflict (Kurcuran and
Erol 2011).
206 The Practice of Integrity in Business

rather than simple logic. Logic tends to be linear, but relationship and
interaction are much less clear or predictable. Paradox involves the capac-
ity to hold together seemingly contradictory truths in order to locate a
greater truth. The paradoxical curiosity that Lederach speaks about is the
capacity to visualize the truth in complexity and especially in different
and usually opposing viewpoints. Dealing with such paradox involves
imagination, openness and curiosity, looking to see what the meaning
and implication of the paradox are. Such curiosity sustains and provokes
the moral imagination. This is often used by Shakespeare: not least in
his comedies where different identities are taken on, leading to very dif-
ferent awareness of the self and others.4 This does not entail uncritical
acceptance of values or principles; on the contrary, difference is engaged
by acceptance of the other (recognizing equal worth) and critical testing
of ideas, myths, values, practice and attitudes. Hence, Lederach advocates
systematic scepticism of any project and its meaning.
For Lederach, this ability to hold different, often contradictory, aspects
links to the awareness of the wider social web. The greater the awareness of
this web, the greater the possibility of finding connections that might lead
to peace, not least through identifying and responding to the different
narratives of justice. All-important for Lederach in this transformation is
the attitude of journey and discovery. This requires the capacity to learn as
one goes along, often referred to as ‘serendipity’ or ‘accidental learning’—
something that is discovered while trying to find something else. This
is summed up by Horace Walpole, who coined the term in his letter of
1754. In it he makes reference to the Persian tale of the Three Princes of
Serendip, who ‘were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity,
of things they were not in quest of ’ (Lederach 2005, 114).
Sagacity takes this away from luck, and moves it into the capacity for
openness, perceiving connections and being able to understand the sig-
nificance of things even whilst pursuing other ends. It is the act of a broad
and attentive mind. Serendipity is not caused by chance but involves
the imagination of the creative mind to visualize the other and the con-
nections. Lederach suggests that the moral imagination is central to all
4
Some of the best examples of this are in the comedies, where women, for different reasons, take
on the identity of men, such as Twelfth Night and As Your Like It, challenging stereotypes.
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 207

this, and its serendipitous appearance involves peripheral vision, creative

learning and, with that, the capacity to improvise. In practical terms for
organizations this demands the development of flexible platforms to nur-
ture this creativity. It might be seen as part of a project management
process, staff development programme, part of how the space is arranged
in the workplace or how the day is organized. All of this leads to learning
and development on an ongoing basis, with time seen not as linear but as
circular, often revisiting the same place but with different perceptions: as
Eliot (1942, 8) puts it, ‘knowing the place for the first time’.

Creativity and Vocation

The journey enables the finding of a voice; hence Lederach’s evocative

idea of ‘voice walkers’. Your action is your voice. This captures a dynamic
view of integrity, developing awareness of the different voices in the social
and physical environment, and building the confidence to find one’s own
voice through dialogue and ongoing learning (cf. Ricoeur 1992). At this
point Lederach focuses on awareness and response, giving weight to the
interaction with the different voices and the development of narratives:
in particular, ‘restorying’ (2005, 148) as a key aspect of transformation,
developing new narratives—new stories building on the old (cf. Freeman
1993).
The creative act is central to this, not simply as outcome but as embodi-
ment of meaning, much like the creative arts. Art acts as a bridge between
cognitive, affective and practice aspects. The term ‘aesthetic’ is from the
Greek, meaning ‘being sharp in the senses’: i.e. being capable of grasp-
ing the connections, the web and the beauty of relationships, to see the
picture and create the change. Focus on the aesthetic and moral imagina-
tion further enables an awareness of vocation—to see the other and the
social environment in all their complexity as related to oneself. This ties
in directly with responsibility, because it is recognizing the human calling
of the other, setting up accountability to the other and responsibility for
the other, without prescribing how to act.
Peace-builders are looking to create outcomes that will affect the whole
of society. This means enabling different groups at levels of business, civil
208 The Practice of Integrity in Business

society and government to connect and take on leadership roles and work
together at shaping and being shaped, leading to a work which is owned
by them and yet not owned by them—having a life of its own. The action
is actual and symbolic and, like music or art, has the power to move, give
significant meaning, remind us of our shared humanity and challenge us.
Such creativity has tremendous transformative power, but it cannot be
forced and has to be worked through in its own time. The work of peace-
building and social change thus moves beyond analytical techniques and
taps into people’s more artistic, creative selves.
The creative act involves, again, more than the individual. The change
is often seen in unlikely places and people, with leadership even taken
up by groups outside the organization or in culturally weak positions.
Lederach notes several examples in Africa of women’s groups, often the
least powerful group in the situation, that have played significant parts in
peace-building. Lederach focuses on social transformation as a whole, not
simply the development of the community or a part of the community.
Hence, like Henry V in Shakespeare’s play, he looks to multiple dialogues
and processes at different levels and in different social spaces taking place
at the same time. At the centre of this is ‘the perspective of imaginative
meditative capacity’ which ‘focuses attention on introducing a quality of
interaction into a strategic set of social spaces within the web of systemic
relationships in order to promote constructive change processes in the
conflict-affected setting as a whole’ (Lederach 2005, 91).5 Responsibility
is shared by all parties for securing the web. This includes focusing on key
anchor points of the web. For Nestlé this was a number of different stake-
holders, such as the WHO, and key procedural elements, such as the
Code and the Muskie Commission. For Shell this was difficult because
of its closeness to the Nigerian government. Lederach, in following the
image of the web, notes the importance of care. If we are too close, we
run danger of destroying the anchor points.
Based on a responsive relationship to the social and physical envi-
ronment, this inevitably takes on the character of hearing the ‘call’ of
the different narratives, something close to Jonas’ view of responsibility

5
See also the virtues of peace-building noted in Chapter 5.
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 209

(cf. also Ricoeur 1992). Determining what that call involves once more
requires dialogue to see how core values look in practice and how respon-
sibility is shared. Lederach (2005) stresses the risks involved in all this,
not least at the level of developing trust and the dangers of conflict, neatly
summed up in Lederach’s case above. Risk is inherent in this process,
from developing a voice to giving an account of meaning and practice to
taking responsibility for responding.
The dynamic of Lederach’s moral imagination does not see positive
responsibility as an ‘extra’ to the idea of integrity. On the contrary, it ties
directly into the practice of integrity, exercising the same elements of
responsibility and the same virtues and qualities. It challenges the moral
aspect of integrity, and ethics more generally, to look beyond ideas of
right and wrong to the complexity of relationships and to address conflict
as part of what it means to be ethical. It challenges business to address the
reality of conflict in complexity. The creation of peace is not the exclu-
sive aim of business, but it is part and parcel of a view of integrity which
accepts the idea of struggle.

Leadership, Strategy and Enterprise

It is striking how this approach links directly into wider developments
in business studies, notably around leadership, strategy and enterprise.
Linear thinking increasingly fails to engage possibilities in a complex
social context (Heifetz et al. 2009, Lewis et al. 2014, Welbourn 2015).
This demands the development of paradoxical thinking. Some writers
even argue against attempts to solve conflict situations too quickly, pre-
cisely because this enables different perspectives, with their affect aspects,
to inform thinking (Heifetz et al. 2009). Something of this is summed up
by Paul Polman, CEO of Unilever:

We must find and create tensions—force people into different space for
thinking … This is not just a performance issue but a survival issue, because
managing paradox helps foster creativity and high performance. (cited in
Welbourn 2015, 1)
210 The Practice of Integrity in Business

The Possibilities Business and Peace

Lederach’s perspective broadens out the approach of business to the wider
social and physical environment, but it also acts as the basis of involve-
ment of business in areas of conflict and post-conflict development. There
are several good examples of how this has been achieved.
The Portland Trust (2013, cf. Oetzel et al. 2010), in a report on busi-
ness and peace-building, sets out four cases studies which do this, in
specific areas of conflict resolution and peace-building: Cyprus, Northern
Ireland, South Africa and the South Caucasus.6 The cases show that busi-
ness was involved in more than simply developing the economics, under
the heads of politics, economics, reconciliation and security:

Politics, including: lobbying and advocating for peace both in the com-
munity and to political leaders; enabling and supporting peace
processes through finances, time and expertise; contributing to nego-
tiating teams by acting as brokers.
Economics, including: strengthening the business environment and pro-
viding investment; generating economic activity and creating jobs;
lobbying for policy and governance reform; encouraging joint eco-
nomic activity and cross-community trade.
Reconciliation, including: building bridges between different communi-
ties and between state and society; removing discriminatory practices
and promoting reconciliation in the workplace.
Security, including: providing jobs for former combatants; offering finan-
cial and logistical support for weapons collection programmes; operat-
ing as an early warning source of information on conflict recurrence or
breakdowns in security.
The report goes on to suggest some key lessons about business practice in
these areas. First, there is a stress on business as an apolitical and
impartial actor in peace processes, provided it engages with all political
parties. Strikingly, this is exactly what the oil industry precluded in the
Niger Delta case by developing such a tight partnership with the

6
The Portland Trust is a peace-building NGO.
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 211

government, and thus associating itself with many of the problems

with corruption and conflict.
Second, working in partnership, through associations or networks of
organizations, strengthens the influence of business and provides pro-
tection for individuals involved. This reinforces the idea of shared
responsibility.
Third, sustained involvement of strong leaders from within the business
community is important to keep up momentum, precisely embodying
commitment which transcends sectional interest.
Fourth, evidence suggests that a spectrum of peace-making activities,
including those related to business, running at the same time helps
ensure that progress can still be made even if the political situation
deteriorates. This can include the development of greater cross-
community ties through existing business associations, including
chambers of commerce. Such groups provide a focus which is analo-
gous to professional bodies, so they can be seen to move beyond the
simplistic interests of particular businesses. This can widen to the for-
mation of specific business coalitions for peace, such as the Consultative
Business Movement in South Africa or the Group of Seven in Northern
Ireland (cf. Oetzel et al. 2010).
Fifth, explicitly promoting the economic benefits of peace, or the ‘peace
dividend’, is a powerful tool, provided the message is supported both
by the business community and by wider civil society. This might
include: development of cross-border markets and infrastructure proj-
ects; the exploration of the potentially supportive role that business
communities in neighbouring areas could play; or mapping of existing
informal economic activities between different parties (itself helping
the process of peace-building).
Sixth, engagement in activities from the ground up—through grassroots
movements and civil society—builds support and helps business to
tackle the underlying psychological effects of the conflict on the popu-
lation (which can otherwise be a block to cross-community business
efforts).

The Trust Report does not analyse these findings in detail. However,
in ethical terms certain key factors begin to emerge. First, engaging
212 The Practice of Integrity in Business

conflict and peace is focused on relationship and identity, and how the
corporation is perceived and perceives society. This suggests the impor-
tance of integrity, partly defined in terms of impartiality (analogous to
professional identity). It focuses on the skills, capacities, expertise and
experience of business, including leverage (Ruggie 2008) and lobbying.
Monaghan and Monaghan (2014) take this further, with the idea of lob-
bying for good. This reinforces the inadequacy of simply shared values,
because business may have specific skills, contacts and experience which
could be effectively used against the short-term interest of the business
and for the long-term interest of the region. Some firms have unique
leverage or lobbying positions because of their specific area and associated
values or issues, such as sport or tourism (Bies et al. 2007, Parry et al.
2007, D’Amore 2010, Levy and Hawkins 2010, Smith et al. 2009, Van
Tulder and Kolk 2001).
Second, there is a strong sense of the need to engage with complexity
in the community, both in terms of perceiving connections to that com-
plexity and to working through and negotiating responsibilities, work-
ing together to achieve ends, thus sharing responsibilities. This suggests
business partnership in several areas, from professional bodies to indus-
tries, to work in with NGOs and civil society and formal political bodies.
Third, many of the examples are about focusing on possibilities through
shared creativity. Again this focuses on being open to difference and dif-
ferent possibilities as they emerge. There is no predetermined limitation
of the role or responsibility of business.
Strikingly, other cases, in areas such as Serbia, suggest that the role
of business in post-conflict situations (Sweetman 2009), working with
political leaders and civil society, can even lead to the establishment of
core democratic practices. Far from limiting the role of business, this
suggests that the role could be significant, and that it can only really be
discovered through moral deliberation which includes other partners and
thus expands possibilities. Peace-building, of course, is not the primary
aim of business per se. It does relate to an awareness of the social and
physical environment, and of how the business has affected that environ-
ment and how it might affect it in future. In other words, it is a part of
the practice of the moral imagination, which demands awareness of the
social and physical environment and how businesses should relate to that.
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 213

Another significant way of developing business response to complex

social and moral issues has been Ruggie’s work on human rights.

Human Rights
Ruggie (2008) developed the UN global framework for business and how
it can relate to human rights issues by setting out the responsibilities
of governments to protect human rights, of business to respect, and of
shared responsibility to provide access for victims to redress. The UN in
its Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights (2011) sets out the
issues under three heads: Protect, Respect and Remedy.
The first involves the duty of the state to protect against human rights
abuses by third parties, including business enterprises, through appro-
priate policies, regulation and adjudication. The second focuses on the
corporate responsibility to respect human rights, which means that
business enterprises should act with due diligence to avoid infringing
the rights of others and to address adverse impacts with which they are
involved. The third is the need for greater access by victims to effective
remedy.
The report aims to clarify responsibilities, and sees the three areas as
fundamentally interconnected. The normative contribution lies not in
the creation of new international law obligations but in elaborating the
implications of existing standards and practices for states and businesses,
integrating them within a single, logically coherent and comprehensive
template, and identifying where the current approach falls short and how
it should be improved. Each principle is accompanied by a commentary,
further clarifying its meaning and implications.
These guiding principles are grounded in a position of shared respon-
sibility recognizing:

• the states’ existing obligations to respect, protect and fulfil human

rights and fundamental freedoms;
• the role of business enterprises as specialized organs of society per-
forming specialized functions, required to comply with all applicable
laws and to respect human rights;
214 The Practice of Integrity in Business

• the need for rights and obligations to be matched to appropriate and

effective remedies when breached.
It is argued that the principles apply to all states and to all business
enterprises, regardless of their size, context, ownership and structure.
In the first part it is argued that a key role of the state is to ensure that
business properly addresses human rights issues, including the exer-
cise of due diligence in assessing the dangers of human rights abuse.
The guidelines note the particular importance of this in relation to
businesses operating in conflict areas. The commentary works through
how this can be effected, including the provision of training and sup-
port. States should encourage fellow members of international institu-
tions to work together with business in the protection of human
rights.
Art the heart of this is the assertion that business, of whatever size, has
a responsibility to respect human rights. Section 15 spells out what is
required:

15. In order to meet their responsibility to respect human rights, business

enterprises should have in place policies and processes appropriate to their
size and circumstances, including:

(a) A policy commitment to meet their responsibility to respect human

rights;
(b) A human rights due-diligence process to identify, prevent, mitigate
and account for how they address their impacts on human rights;
(c) Processes to enable the remediation of any adverse human rights
impacts they cause or to which they contribute.

The basis of these guidelines is a framework that aims to empower

all the stakeholders. Hence, the guidelines aim to be clear both about
the basic responsibility of the key players and also about the means
whereby the detailed responsibility can be worked through. It does
not prescribe but rather invites the exercise of responsibility, including
developing awareness of supply chains and being aware of response
possibilities such as the use of leverage with governments. Perhaps the
most important recent example of human rights and the supply chain
is slavery.
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 215

Human Rights and Modern Slavery

The Modern Slavery Act (UK) came into operation in 2015. In the area
of human rights and supply chains it neatly shows a dialogic and learning
view of integrity. First, the discourse on modern slavery is exactly a work-
ing-through of integrity. Slavery is universally accepted as abhorrent. It
is viewed as a fundamental abuse of human rights. At one level this is
expressed in principles language of Article 23 of the Universal Declaration
of Human Rights in relation to work: the right to work, equal pay, just
remuneration and freedom of association.7 At another level the effects on
lives are devastating. The very term ‘slavery’ also carries with it the freight
of a history of abuse and pain across of the world. Hence, as Forrest and
O’Rourke (2015) put it, ‘no company wants to run the risk of being
tainted with the spectre of slavery’. Yet it is precisely in business, directly
or indirectly, that slavery, historically and today, has flourished. It is char-
acterized as a ‘low risk and high gain’ enterprise by the International
Labour Organisation (ILO 2014) because it focuses on the most vulner-
able, particularly migrant workers, who are often hidden in long supply
chains. The extent of the problem is massive:

• Almost 21 million people are victims of forced labour—11.4 million

women and girls and 9.5 million men and boys.
• Almost 19 million victims are exploited by private individuals or
enterprises and over 2 million by the state or rebel groups.
• Of those exploited by individuals or enterprises, 4.5 million are vic-
tims of forced sexual exploitation.
• Forced labour in the private economy generates as much as US$ 150
billion in illegal profits per year.

One report (Chamberlain 2014) shows even when the connection to

business is not immediate, it can still be significant. Paying wages less
than the local minimum to workers in the tea industry, for example,
makes them vulnerable to traffickers who promise a better life. This is
exactly the point of the integrity argued for thus far. It would be possible
7
http://www.un.org/en/universal-declaration-human-rights/
216 The Practice of Integrity in Business

simply to argue about liability in terms of blame and limited responsi-

bility. However, the important issue is that of causal connections and
positive responsibility. There is a line of causation from low wages to traf-
ficking. Integrity demands that we are aware of that dynamic and then
begin to examine possible responses.
In effect, the government is now acting as moral monitor for this in the
UK, and setting up a dialogue about the nature of this integrity. They argue
that the problems of slavery cannot be addressed without responsibility being
shared, and that the connections to business demand action from business.

The Modern Slavery Act 2015

The Act is focused on the UN Principles noted above. Section 54 of the
Act Modern Slavery requires that any commercial organization wholly
or partly based in the UK and with a turnover of over £36 million must
produce a ‘slavery and human trafficking statement’ in reference to its
supply chain for each financial year.
The statement must set out what steps the organization has taken dur-
ing the financial year to ensure that modern slavery is not occurring in
its supply chains and within itself. This does not require that the organi-
zation guarantee that the entire supply chain is slavery-free. The provi-
sion requires an organization to be transparent about practice within its
own business. If an organization has taken no steps to ensure there is
not slavery and human trafficking, this must be part of the statement.
Government encourages all businesses to develop an appropriate and
effective response to modern slavery.
If a business fails to produce an annual statement for a particular
financial year, the Secretary of State may pursue legal means requiring
the organization to comply. If the organization fails to comply with an
injunction, for instance, it will be in contempt of a court order, which is
punishable by an unlimited fine.
The dynamic of this Act is focused firmly on encouraging the devel-
opment of positive responsibility. Hence, the government aims to not
to coerce good practice but, rather, to enable transparency, which will
hold the practice of the organization to account, opening it out to all
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 217

stakeholders. There is a stress on learning and development, with the

expectation that organizations will develop statements over time. On the
one hand, they want to encourage a ‘race to the top’, with the develop-
ment of ethical excellence. On the other, failure to produce a statement,
or a statement that an organization has taken no steps, may precisely
damage the reputation of the business, in effect a shaming action. It will
then be for consumers, investors and NGOs to engage and/or apply pres-
sure in cases where they believe integrity is not being practised.
This is an example of shared responsibility, with government taking
responsibility for providing a framework and ensuring that business gives
an account of its actions, business taking responsibility for its values and
practice, and stakeholders taking responsibility for challenging values and
practice. The government’s guidance extends advice on what might be
included in the organization’s statement, including: structure, business and
supply chains; values and policies in relation to slavery and human traf-
ficking; due diligence processes; the areas in the business and supply chains
most at risk of the practice of slavery, and how this risk is assessed and
managed; how effective the organization is in guarding against slavery and
human trafficking; and what training is provided for staff (Section 54(5)).
In developing responsibility for this area businesses may also have to
focus on their governance procedures: e.g. developing processes to inves-
tigate supply chains; appointing senior managers with responsibility for
this area; and exploring the effectiveness of whistleblowing mechanisms
in relation to this area.
The debate is not closed, with several NGOs and business leaders rais-
ing concerns. First, companies can still comply with disclosure require-
ments through reporting they have taken no steps at all. The legislation has
been modelled in part on the California Transparency in Supply Chains
Act, which doesn’t require companies to take action. Hence, disclosures
in California have not forced companies to improve their practices. One
suggestion is that the law should demand more rigorous action, especially
in high-risk industries such as manufacturing, shipping, agriculture and
construction, to disclose their efforts and take action to end slavery, and
have these verified by an independent auditor (Forrest and O’Rourke
2015). This would reinforce the stakeholder regulation approach, and the
shared responsibility view of integrity.
218 The Practice of Integrity in Business

A second argument, however, suggests that integrity demands a clear

understanding of what is involved. A simple analysis of the nature of
slavery and human trafficking shows that this is illegal, and often involves
or leads to further crimes, including illegal imprisonment, kidnap, severe
exploitation and, in many cases, murder or manslaughter. This would
raise the possibility that firms who turn a blind eye to these crimes in
their business relationships might be deemed to be complicit in those
crimes. Part of being held to account, then, should be an investigation of
whether the board is criminally liable, with the possibility that the com-
pany’s licence to operate in the UK might be revoked.
This argument takes us back to the tensions between legal responsibil-
ity and proactive integrity. In this case, if the firm actually did not know
that criminal behaviour was going on in their supply chain, then they could
hardly be held to be legally responsible. If, however, such practices were dis-
covered, then continued work with such suppliers might well involve legal
responsibility. This may be a motivation for some major firms precisely to
avoid genuine due diligence. This would reinforce the importance of inde-
pendent audit. Forrest and O’Rourke (2015) argue both that most global
businesses would be likely to find some connection in their supply chain to
modern slavery and human trafficking and that this is not a matter of philan-
thropy but of responsibility and thus good governance, on a par with respon-
sibility for ensuring safety in the workplace. They describe social audits in
their firms that revealed some of their workers were being charged excessive
recruitment fees and high-interest loans, creating a situation of debt bond-
age. Immediate action was taken, allowing workers to earn a proper wage.
A third problem with the Act as it stands is its single focus. The guard-
ian case above shows that human rights abuses are often interconnected.
Hence, as the UN principles suggest, it is better to firm’s policy which
enable due diligence for all human rights issues.

Unilever
A good example of this wider approach, linking it directly to integrity, is
Unilever’s first Human Rights Report (2015). Unilever began to focus on
human rights as part of its sustainable plan (Unilever 2014). The Unilever
Human Rights Report is based on the UN Principles.
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 219

Several key factors emerge in this work:

• It is explicitly connected to integrity. Hence, it is part of holistic and

ongoing reflective practice, and focused on the company’s vision, and
its ambition ‘to embed the promotion of human rights into every
function, every role, and every corner of our organization’.
• It is based in an ongoing narrative which is able to chart developments,
including endorsement of the women’s empowerment principles in
2013 and commitment to empower 5 million women by 2020,
launching a responsible sourcing policy (2014) and prioritizing safety
(2008), with a target of halving the number of accidents in factories
and offices.
• It is built on a clear and strong governance structure which includes:
establishing a member of the Unilever Leadership Executive, in this
case the Chief Marketing and Communications Officer, as the cham-
pion for sustainability and responsibility; ensuring independent over-
sight through the Board CSR committee made up of non-executive
directors;8 and ensuring external perspectives through the Unilever
Sustainable Living Plan Council—a group of internationally respected
external specialists in corporate responsibility and sustainability. They
form a panel of independent experts who guide and critique the devel-
opment of strategy and also give input on our external reporting of the
Unilever Sustainable Living Plan; ensuring further independent audit
for the whole programme established through the audit committee;
ensuring alignment of all these groups through the ULE champion
attending the Corporate Responsibility Committee meetings, and
chairing the USLP Steering Team and USLP Council. Other external
expertise is accessed through the Sustainable Sourcing Steering Group
and Safety & Environmental Assurance Centre. All are carefully linked
to the four main production categories: Foods, Personal Care,
Refreshment and Home Care, and to the core functions of procure-
ment, marketing, legal, finance, sustainable business and communica-
tions and customer development. For full details see Unilever (2014).

8
In 2014 the committee’s work included scrutiny of Unilever’s Code of Business Principles and
Unilever’s new Responsible Sourcing Policy, and the review of progress on the Unilever Sustainable
Living Plan.
220 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Key to this narrative has been commitment to a transparent and

accountable approach to addressing human rights issues across the busi-
ness. Another example of this was their invitation to Oxfam to research
their Vietnamese operations in 2013. The aim of this was to better under-
stand how to implement the UN Guiding Principles. Included in their
values is zero tolerance of forced labour, and the company are conducting
legal reviews of the UK Modern Slavery Act 2015 to assess the effective-
ness of the processes.
Another example of going beyond regulation is Hilti, who have devel-
oped a code specifically for work with suppliers.

Codes of Conduct for Suppliers, Fundamentals

for Long-Term Relationships
Hilti is a major producer in the field of fastening and demolition sys-
tems as utilized in the construction industry and allied trades. The Hilti
code of conduct for suppliers (Hilti 2008) is not aimed at global supply
sources as such, but applies to all its suppliers. The bar for suppliers is a
high one; and in certain aspects or for suppliers in certain countries stan-
dards are higher than national and international law. What is more, these
standards apply not just to the Hilti supplier in question; the supplier is
required to enforce these standards with all its suppliers.
As well as setting out high standards, the Hilti code reveals a compre-
hensive scope, covering everything one would expect to find in an ethical
sourcing policy targeted at global south farms and factories, and more.
The opening and closing sections are noteworthy. The code is headed by
a section on ‘Purpose and Values’. This states Hilti’s core purpose as being
not only to create and enthuse Hilti customers, but also to ‘build a better
future’. Suppliers are thoroughly selected with this core purpose in view,
and Hilti will ‘support their development’ so that they, like Hilti, can
embrace responsibility towards the environment and society. The pur-
pose of the code, Hilti (2008) states, is to ‘make our position clear and
explain what we expect from our suppliers with regard to their environ-
mental and social performance’. The ‘Purpose and Values’ opener also
states that ‘the way we do things at Hilti is based on living strong values’.
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 221

These are integrity, courage, teamwork and commitment. In reference to

integrity, for example, Hilti claims that ‘we act with integrity in all we
do’. The same is expected from Hilti suppliers.
The final section, on non-compliance, also spells out to suppliers how
Hilti intends to operate: ‘Repeated violations of these requirements will
result in the termination of the co-operation’. The paragraph continues:
‘We are also prepared to take country or cultural differences and other
relevant factors into consideration, but we will not compromise on the
fundamental requirements described in this Code of Conduct for sup-
pliers.’ The section expresses Hilti’s commitment to long-term supplier
relationships: ‘Hilti does not break off relations due to non-compliance
only, as long as there is a willingness to improve in the right direction
with an agreed plan of action to comply with our requirements within an
acceptable time frame.’
This is a good example of proactive responsibility and the development
of responsible practice in the supply chain, involving co-regulation. In
effect, the firm is effecting regulation of its stakeholders’ practice, with
the ultimate sanction of breaking off relations.
Another example, in a smaller business, is Taylors of Harrogate, a tea
and coffee merchant. Taylors have built up an ethical trading policy,9 with
two overarching priorities: the welfare of workers in their supply chain
and ensuring a sustainable environmental impact. Taylors work with
the Ethical Trading Initiative,10 an alliance of companies, trade unions
and voluntary organizations working together to uphold international
labour standards, and the Ethical Tea Partnership, comprising organi-
zations that align themselves to the International Labour Organization
(ILO) Conventions on Labour and Human Rights, as well as certifica-
tion schemes such as Fairtrade, Rainforest Alliance and Utz Certified. In
terms of environmental responsibility, Taylors ensure sustainable prac-
tices on farms by requiring suppliers to develop an environmental man-
agement system. This is aimed at both reducing its environmental impact
and managing the environmental aspects of its operations.

9
http://www.taylorsofharrogate.co.uk/TradingFairlyHome.asp
10
http://www.ethicaltrade.org/
222 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Certification schemes are central to Taylors’ strategy of driving sus-

tainability improvements with their tea and coffee suppliers. Farms and
estates are free to choose the certification scheme that best suits their
business interests. In accordance with the principle of building mutually
beneficial long-term relationships with growers, Taylors then assist sup-
pliers in gaining certification and meeting the social and environmental
criteria set out in the scheme. In cases where investment is required to
improve social and/or environmental standards, suppliers may apply to
Taylors for seed funding. Over time, producers that demonstrate com-
mitment to continuous improvements in such standards become pre-
ferred suppliers.
Taylors’ practice also provides a good example of businesses working
together to practise integrity. Associations such as the ethical training
initiative also provide means of audit, which begins to set up a system of
mutual accountability.

Conclusion
This chapter has explored positive responsibility further. It has shown
how in a complex environment business can be faced with many dif-
ferent challenges, including conflict, injustice, abuses of human rights
and the physical environment and poverty. Global business is faced by
this and by the ongoing narratives associated with them. The example of
modern slavery confirms that this applies to small businesses also. The
practice of integrity demands that such issues are actively engaged, that
a transparent account is given of how the firm does this and understands
itself in relation to the issue, and that appropriate responses are worked
through. Hence, Shell has begun to engage some of those issues, mov-
ing beyond a narrow view of integrity. Justice and conflict, then, are
everyone’s business. This chapter has especially stressed the importance
of the practice of moral imagination. Integrity here demands not just
that business engage the different present narratives, but shows how new
practice and narrative can emerge. And key to that in the cases above
was commitment: commitment to learn and to create new possibilities,
and commitment to welcome challenge, and thus welcome judgement
 7 Integrity and the Moral Imagination 223

on philosophy and practice. In a sense there is nothing new here. The

great business philanthropists of the Victorian era precisely engaged
their imagination, from deciding to manufacture chocolate as a response
to society’s alcohol problem (Cadbury), to building model villages for
workers (Salt), to combating the extremes of child labour (Shaftesbury).
The last example reveals perhaps the most profound exercise of moral
imagination. Prior to the work of Shaftesbury and allied literary figures,
children were not viewed as fully human. With the work of the philan-
thropists children began to be seen as human and eventually the bearers
of human rights.
The positive responsibility of this chapter develops the idea of responsi-
bility for the future noted in Chap. 4 to imagining the future, and focus-
ing on transformation. The dynamics of the moral imagination applied
to the global stage are, of course, much the same as the dialogic self, pre-
senting and creating opportunities for innovation of the self, expressed in
greater plurality and multiple sites for self-engagement (Raggatt 2012).
Hermans and Geiser (2012) suggest that globalization is not just a reality
outside the individual, but also a constituent of a dialogical self. This ties
back into the dynamic and dialogic view of integrity of the earlier chap-
ters. The Modern Slavery Act precisely demands an exercise of the moral
imagination, and it is such imagination that begins to reveal and engage
the shadow side of business. All this contributes to the individuation, the
development of the identity, of business.
This chapter also underlines integrity as a social practice. In effect, the
response to modern slavery involves not just the practice of integrity in
business but also inter-agency integrity, with governments and suppliers
all exercising responsibility, responding to an abuse which involves them
all. It also reinforces King III’s idea of regulation as focused on dialogue
between stakeholders, holding each other to account, taking us back to
the Mid Staffs case.
Of course, human rights issues provide a very real challenge, which, as
I noted, few businesses would want to side-step. Real dissonance is cre-
ated for the business who finds abuse in the supply chain. There are other
cases where integrity is more firmly tested, not least where all that seems
to be at stake is profits. I will turn to these in the next chapter and begin
to sum up recurring issues about integrity.
224 The Practice of Integrity in Business

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 8
Trust Me, I’m a Businessman: Integrity,
Trust, Corruption and Counterfeits

Abstract The final chapter draws together several issues referred to

throughout the book, and through these summarizes integrity. First, it
examines the relationship between trust and integrity, arguing, with a
focus on recovering trust after integrity violations, that trust is based on
the practice of dialogue and narrative development, professional and
procedural integrity and. Second, it examines three related concepts—
corruption, counterfeit integrity and confusion—arguing that these are
engrained in the practice of business, and noting how the practice of
integrity can address these. Finally it returns to the identity of business,
to consider just what can be re-presented.

In this final chapter I aim to summarize the view of integrity I have

sketched out in this book by focusing on key themes that have surfaced
throughout the book. I have argued that integrity is not simply the same
as ‘doing the right thing’ or practising ‘ethics’. It is rather centred in
who we are and how we present that self to the world. That presentation
is focused on the practice of the three modes of responsibility, and in
mutual relationships with dialogue at the centre. I first want to explore in
more detail how such integrity relates to trust, a connection most writers

© The Author(s) 2016 229

S. Robinson, The Practice of Integrity in Business,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-51553-7_8
230 The Practice of Integrity in Business

on integrity take to be obvious. I will argue that the connection is built

around the development of mature trust which connects to the different
modes of responsibility. I will then draw together different elements of
the dark side of integrity which have surfaced throughout the book: cor-
ruption, counterfeit and confusion. I will conclude that, whatever the
good consequences of integrity in the practice of business, it cannot be
viewed as primarily instrumental. Equally, whatever the contribution of
business to the common good, integrity is not primarily about altruism,
but rather about mutual responsibility.

Trust
My late father-in law-was, for all his career, a doctor in general practice in
a mining village in the north of England. When the village came together
for funerals, three people, most often, at that time men, always attended
and often led the procession behind the hearse: the priest, the doctor and
the bank manager. These were the three people most trusted in the vil-
lage. And the trust was significant not simply because the people believed
in these three profession(al)s, but because of the relationships per se. Each
of the professions was there for the well-being of the people in the village:
the spiritual, the medical and the financial. In a mining village which
suffered occasional pit disasters, and longer-term threats to the industry,
there was an acute sense of vulnerability, and so the need to depend upon
key practitioners. The practitioners were more than simply people who
plied their trade; they were significant social figures. By definition they,
and their professions, had a contract with society which was inclusive.
Times, of course, have changed, and now such communities have
become fragmented. Some things, though, have stayed the same.
Edelmann’s Trust Barometer (2015) suggests that doctors and priests
are still trusted, in the sense of being thought to tell the truth. Doctors
top this survey, along with teachers, scientists and judges. Priests have
slid down to fifth (around 40 per cent), just above the police. Bankers,
however, now have a trust deficit, along with business leaders and trades
union officials. The good news for bankers is that they are not the least
trusted. That accolade falls to estate agents and politicians. These figures
 8 Integrity, Trust, Corruption and Counterfeits 231

are a rough snap shot, but they suggest at least two things. First, despite
the dire warnings from the media, key professions do, in practice, retain
trust. As O’Neill argues (2000), if we are in trouble, we will still call the
police or the doctor.
Second, those who are trusted are trusted because they matter to per-
sonal and social well-being, and because that focus makes them impartial.
It is striking that those in trust deficit are perceived as partial and polar-
ized, from trade union leaders to business leaders to politicians. If we
look further at the barometer, another significant finding emerges. The
general levels of trust have gone down, and this seems to be connected to
change and the pace of change, chiming in with the finding of the Francis
Report (2013).
Connected to this data on trust are surveys (e.g. Johnson 2015) which
suggest that public concern about business focuses on corporate tax
avoidance, followed, in order, by executive pay, exploitative labour, and
bribery and corruption. As few as 6 per cent, in one survey, trust compa-
nies to provide accurate information about tax (SSE 2015).
I have looked closely at how the practice of integrity requires a broader
approach to executive pay to make it part of the meaning and practice
of justice, and fulfil genuine accountability. Anti-discrimination prac-
tice and eliminating exploitative labour are part of justice and respect
for human rights. I have looked at the supply chain through the issue
of human rights and modern slavery. Below I will look briefly at ways in
which some companies have simply not made those connections, leading
to counterfeit integrity. I will also look at corruption, and equivocation,
which surrounds the tax issue. Before these I want to explore in greater
depth what the nature of trust is and how it relates to integrity, and I will
begin with the case of Siemens and the violation of trust.

Siemens and Restoring Trust

In November 2006 regulators revealed that hundreds of Siemens employ-
ees were responsible for using bribery to secure contracts for power gen-
eration equipment in Italy, telecommunications infrastructure in Nigeria
and national identity cards in Argentina (Dietz and Gillespie 2012).
232 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Failure in the German giant’s oversight and governance of the value chain
ultimately undermined its reputation and perceived market value. At the
heart of the scandal was an aggressive growth strategy and a complex
structure which obscured accountability. The result was a massive blow
to the company’s reputation and fines estimated at up to € 2.5 billion.
In mid-2007 Peter Löscher was brought in from Merck as CEO. The
board, several of whose members had resigned, charged him with devel-
oping a culture of integrity and restoring trust. Major restructuring took
place in the months to come, with ‘about 80% of the top level of exec-
utives, 70% of the next level down, and 40% of the level below that’
replaced in the months that followed his appointment (Löscher 2012).
Löscher instated a review but also sought, himself, to understand the
company, its people and activities, including the staff’s disappointment
with the leadership and their sense of shame partly arising from their
pride in Siemens. Löscher then declared an ‘amnesty’, involving all staff,
except former directors. Those who declared involvement kept their jobs.
Those who did not and were later found to be involved would be fired.
Changes were then made to governance structure and practice. The
two-tier board was folded into one to enable clearer communication. It
involved eight individuals with insight into operational activities and
active engagement in decision-making. The new board was composed of
the CEO, the CFO and the head of HR, together with representatives
from three operational units: energy, industry and healthcare. Two new
board positions focused on supply chain management and sustainability,
and legal matters and compliance.
The complexity of operations across different countries also needed
addressing, because the seventy clusters operating across 190 countries
had in some cases taken on the character of autonomous separate com-
panies. By 2012 these clusters were down to fourteen, reporting to a
quarterly steering group. At the heart of the system changes was the
development of a culture of responsibility that challenged corruption at
all levels, based on three imperatives: prevent, detect and respond. The
first of these focused on anti-corruption training for all members of staff,
the second on monitoring and controlling policies, the third on action
in response to violations of policy. By 2011 the compliance team had
 8 Integrity, Trust, Corruption and Counterfeits 233

grown from 170 to near 600, holding roles in key functions around the
world. Today the Siemens Compliance Organization is independent and
has a direct reporting representation to the board of Siemens AG. This
involved a culture of dialogue and challenge and one in which differ-
ent professions, especially the finance professions, were encouraged to
embody their independent identity, with a responsibility to scrutinize and
challenge. The stress on communication and transparency ran through
the global programmes which aimed to bridge the gap between all levels
of management. This included ‘integrity dialogues’ built into every sales
meeting, enabling reflection on ethical issues from bottom up. All of this
was part of a culture, with the tone set from the top, in which structure,
procedure and culture reinforced each other. The strengthening of codes
was backed up by the discourse in the organization, including from the
top, and sustained by effective training.
Compliance, then, was not an add-on programme but rather the
basis of internal and external sustainability, ethical practices embedded
in the business model, organizational strategy and decision-making pro-
cesses. Responsibility is taken, then, for the moral meaning of practice,
for immediate internal and external relationships and for the long-term
future.
A critical part of the transformation was Siemens working with the
World Bank. In 2009 a settlement was announced which included: a
commitment by Siemens to pay $100 million to the World Bank over
the next fifteen years to support anti-corruption work; an agreement to a
four-year debarment for Siemens’ Russian subsidiary (implicated in cor-
ruption); and a voluntary two-year shut-out of Siemens AG and all of its
consolidated subsidiaries and affiliates from bidding on Bank business
(World Bank 2009). This was a critical part of the transformation, partly
because it addressed some element of retributive justice, but also because
there was an element of restitutive justice which took Siemens into the
practice of positive responsibility. This involved the $100 million being
used to support global efforts to fight fraud and corruption, including
projects which facilitated collective action, training and education. The
money was also for helping governments recover stolen assets, and for
strengthening efforts to identify and crack down on corrupt practices.
234 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Models of Recovering Trust

There have been two significant models developed around the redevelop-
ment of trust after a crisis such as Siemens. The first is the Reintegration
Model (Pfarrer et al. 2008). This is a four-stage model which aims to
increase the speed and likelihood of restoring ‘legitimacy with stake-
holders following a transgression’. This involves following four complex
actions in sequence which are designed to address the concerns of stake-
holders (Pfarrer et al. 2008, 731):

• an open investigation of the facts, in cooperation with stakeholders

• clear presentation of the cause of the crisis. This includes acknowledge-
ment of the nature of the transgressions, accepting responsibility and
the expression of remorse.
• acceptance of penance and punishment
• reforming the organizations procedures and relationships and its exter-
nal image.

Pfarrer et al. tie in the process to the salience approach to stakeholder

management (cf. Mitchell et al. 1997), focusing on power, legitimacy or
urgency of stakeholders’ claims. They argues that focus on elite and active
stakeholders will lead to dialogue which serves to prompt key questions
and demands, and shape perceptions leading to concurrence, ‘a generally
shared opinion amongst stakeholders regarding the transgression and the
appropriateness of the organization’s actions’ (2008, 733). Concurrence
does not have to be complete so long as general threshold agreement is
reached: i.e. an agreement which allows the firm to move through the
threshold of each stage.
The second model, the Organization-Level Trust Repair Model, from
Gillespie and Dietz (2009), is again a four-stage approach for responding
to failure at organizational level. Such a failure is defined as an incident,
or series of incidents, that threatens the legitimacy of the organization,
questioning its trustworthiness.
Gillespie and Dietz argue that organizational trustworthiness is gen-
erated internally in four ways: through leadership and management
practices; culture and climate; strategy and sub-strategies; and systems,
 8 Integrity, Trust, Corruption and Counterfeits 235

policies and processes. Each of these provides signals and cues for sig-
nificant meaning in practice. Trustworthiness is also shaped through two
external elements: governance mechanisms, involving regulation and leg-
islation) and the organization’s public reputation (e.g. awards, product
reviews).
Such trustworthiness requires consistent promotion over time, and
is focused in ‘behaviors and verbal responses that actively demonstrate
ability, benevolence and integrity’ (2009, 134. Cf. Baier 1986, 1991).
The first of these involves competence which enables reliability in meet-
ing goals and responsibilities. Benevolence involves respect and care for
stakeholders. Integrity is described as consistent adherence to moral
principles, such as honesty and fairness (2009, 128). Consistent displays
of such trustworthiness will reassure stakeholders of the likelihood of
good conduct and acceptable actions in the future, enabling trust to be
restored. Unpinning this has to be procedures that will demonstrate reli-
ability in avoiding recurrence of failure (2009, 134).
To achieve this Gillespie and Dietz (2009) argue for a four-stage
process:

• an immediate response, acknowledging the problem, expressing sin-

cere regret and announcing a thorough investigation, leading to
• a credible explanation, the expression of apology, and an acknowledg-
ment of responsibility,
• system-wide reforms, built from the investigation and focused on the
four areas above, and demonstrating renewed trustworthiness,
• an accurate, transparent, and systematic ‘evaluation’ of the reforms to
enable ongoing learning.

The two models have different focuses, but could be applied across
internal and external stakeholders. There are differences on timing and
constituents. The first model requires speedy progress through each
stage, lest reintegration should be jeopardized (2008, 734). The trust
repair model warns against haste, which does not give space for diagno-
sis, leading to lack of clarity about the appropriate reforms, thus nega-
tively affecting trust. Both models make an important contribution to
this field. Underlying them are dynamics which focus on integrity.
236 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Trust and Integrity

Trust involves significant relations, and reliance upon others, in a vari-
ety of ways, ‘to do something, to be something, to allow something, to
complete, facilitate, or not impede something’ (Colledge et al. 2014). It
also involves something about the identity of the person in relation to the
other person or organization who they trust. The ‘trustees’ believe they
are in a significant relationship in which they are valued. Simpson (2007)
suggests that the interpersonal trust literature in psychology empha-
sizes four core principles which speak to this value. Research around
interpersonal trust is here taken to be applicable also to organizational
trust. First, individuals determine the extent to which they can trust
the other through evidence of ‘proper transformation of motivation in
trust-diagnostic situations’ (2007, 265). Most relationships have points
at which they are tested. Key to maintaining trust in these situations is
whether the other makes a decision which goes against self-interest and
supports the best interest of the individual or the relationship. We might
add in wider trust the interests of the organization (see the example from
Henry V in Chap. 3).
The second finding was that ‘trust-diagnostic situations often occur
naturally and unintentionally during the ebb and flow of everyday life’
(ibid., 265). Moreover, in some situations individuals may aim to gener-
ate trust-diagnostic situations to test whether trust in the other is justi-
fied. This suggests that the maintenance of mature trust is a function of
continued, though not necessarily, critical dialogue. Trust diagnosis will
depend on circumstances, such as experience of change. Bridges (1980)
argues that such transitions involve four characteristics:

Disengagement. This involves a breakdown of relationships and shared

meaning that helped constitute a sense of the self.
Disidentification. The person tries to rediscover her identity in the old
patterns of trust but cannot identify with them.
Disenchantment. This involves a loss of trust in the old perceptions of
reality and those who represent them. This often brings with it feelings
of anger resentment, grief, loss, guilt and confusion. It can also bring
with it a sense of liberation and new possibilities.
 8 Integrity, Trust, Corruption and Counterfeits 237

Disorientation. This is the cumulative effect of the previous three experi-

ences, involving a loss of direction, energy and motivation, with time
and energy put into trying to make sense of what is going on.

Moments of transition involve challenges about individual and orga-

nizational identity, then, which inevitably involve questions about pur-
pose, worth, values and relationships. Hence, one would expect a strong
affective response from members of Siemens’ workforce, including, as
noted above, a sense of shame. Shame connects to the person rather than
the action (Kaufman 1980), involving a judgement about the self, hence
questioning self-worth, often associated with feelings of naïvety about
being deceived.
The transition in Siemens could not be back to the same, then. There
had to be a different identity worked through, including attention to
value, purpose and worth. This suggests that the very idea of ‘recovery
of trust’ (Dietz and Gillespie 2012) is problematic. The original trust
that Siemens’ employees had in the organization was evidently an imma-
ture trust, characterized by absence of critical questioning, acceptance
of dominant perspectives and so on. Hence, the key issue is rather the
development of mature trust. This dynamic is reinforced by the third
finding in Simpson’s trust research summary: that individual differences
in attachment orientations, self-esteem or self-differentiation (working
models of self and others in relationship) will influence the development
or decline of trust. Those who have a secure sense of self-worth, and of
their distinctiveness in relationships, would be more likely to experience
and practise mature trust, as well develop trust over time. Once more this
offers a more complex view of identity which would be shaped by engag-
ing values and purpose of the organization, as much as individual val-
ues and purpose. Simpson’s final point is that understanding the degree
and direction of trust also depends on awareness of the ‘dispositions and
actions’ of both people in the relationship. This demands an awareness of
the virtues and motivations of the other.
This summary of evidence suggests that trust is developed not sim-
ply through attention to competence, benevolence and integrity (viewed
as behavioural). All three were claimed by Enron and Arthur Andersen.
Aristotle (1991) differs significantly, arguing, in the context of rhetoric,
238 The Practice of Integrity in Business

that communicating credibility requires the three aspects of ethos: char-

acter (arête), practical wisdom (phronesis), and benevolence (eunoia). This
deepens the understanding of the basis of trust because it looks beyond
simple benevolence to a focus on the good. Hence, the trust is based not
purely on the interest of the relationship but on wider values and mean-
ing. This includes both purpose and relational values such as justice and
respect. Both of these confer a sense of worth that is acknowledged in the
workplace. Hence, some philosophers argue that trust, and our assess-
ment of trust, is not simply about the expressed care of the other and its
confirmation or otherwise, it is also ‘truth-directed’ and ‘end-directed’
(Baker 1987; de Sousa 1987). I trust a doctor to help me partly because
of the wider shared view of purpose that is expressed in the professional
body.
In addition to a focus on shared values and purpose, trust requires that
an account of this be given in the organization, reflected in the structures
and procedures. The procedures provide another buttress to trust, dem-
onstrating procedural integrity focused on purpose and values. Critical
to the development of such trust is openness to and opportunities for
dialogue. Part of the role of dialogue is both to give an account of shared
meaning and also is to test trust, in all the parties involved. Hence, Henry
V, as leader, focused on values but also on relationships.
It is worth contrasting this with the agency theory of governance. The
extraordinary thing about this theory is that it is predicated on the deter-
mination not to trust the CEO. The CEO is by definition is not trust-
worthy and therefore has to be controlled by the board. The stewardship
theory of governance goes quite the other way and assumes that we must
trust the CEO so much that he or she can be trusted to combine that role
with the chair. These reflect the two extremes of immature trust: trusting
no one and trusting anyone, without grounds.
A similar dynamic to agency theory occurred in cases such as Arthur
Andersen and Enron (Toffler 2003). In these the leadership demanded
absolute trust from employees but did not reciprocate that trust, replacing
trust with mechanisms of control, based on fear. Members of the orga-
nization may decide to buy into that for good reasons, not least finan-
cial reward. The down side is that there is no practice of responsibility,
as critical self-governance, or mutual or plural accountability or shared
 8 Integrity, Trust, Corruption and Counterfeits 239

responsibility for projects. Truthful re-presentation, at individual or orga-

nizational level, is discouraged.
Mature trust is more focused in mutuality, characterized by the prac-
tice of giving trust to the other: i.e. enabling the other to take responsibil-
ity, by accepting trust from the other, and by mutual trust expressed in
the practice of shared responsibility. The latter is exemplified by the rela-
tionship between Siemens and the World Bank. The dialogue between
the two involves negotiation of responsibility in the context of a com-
mitment over time to positive responsibility to do with developing a
global response to corruption. In the one dialogue there is a move to
embody justice, such that the relationship between Siemens and the Bank
is repaired, and a commitment to shared responsibility. The dealing with
that justice reinforces trust. The commitment to shared responsibility in
the wider context also engenders trust. This is partly because a formally
stated commitment sets up an account. Both sides are stating that they are
mutually accountable. But trust is also engendered because that account
is anchored in shared values and purpose which transcend self-interest,
and in evidence that the creative possibilities bearing fruit. It is not just
that Siemens are doing what they say they will do; it is that what they say
and do bear significant meaning to their relationship and beyond.
In order to let go of control we have to judge that the other is either
capable of being trusted—i.e. that they are trustworthy—or that there
is a good reason for giving them trust, even if there is no evidence that
they are trustworthy. A good reason might be the view that giving a per-
son trust is important for their personal or professional development, or
is a mark of respect (McGeer 241; see also Pettit 1995). Hence, trust,
it is argued, is critical for the development of autonomy and thus, by
extension, the development of integrity (Mackenzie and Stoljar 2000).
Maitland (2008) argues that trusting employees through cutting back
on monitoring their performance also enables the practice of the virtues.
Hence, ‘low levels of legal contract enforcement crowd in trustworthi-
ness’ (Osterloh and Frey 2004, 203). It is important to note that whilst
giving trust is a risky venture, the focus on shared values, purpose and
procedures, and being open to account, provides the procedural frame-
work to enable this: what is in effect the practice of the three modes of
responsibility.
240 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Once more a psychotherapeutic perspective on trust is instructive. If

the therapist and patient agree on a contract (procedural framework),
involving shared expectations about the meaning and practice of the
therapy, then when the therapist does not fulfil the contract in some
way this allows the patient to challenge the therapist and thus hold him
or her to account (Robinson 2008). The therapist, by allowing the chal-
lenge and acknowledging it, confirms that the relationship is based in the
meaning, value and purpose of therapy, involving respect for autonomy,
mutuality and care, not dominance or self-interest. The dialogue is both
cognitive and affective. By showing a measured response to the patient’s
expression of feeling, not least anger, the therapist precisely communi-
cates that he views such a challenge not as a threat, but rather part of
the ongoing dialogue. This enables the patient to develop trust based on
mutuality and not on the dominating relationship which have been part
cause of the problem in the first place (Kohut 1982). In this exchange
they begin to experience mutuality, and with that mature trust. Hence,
trust becomes a part of the learning experience (Colledge et al. 2014),
always being tested, learned and developed, often in different contexts,
with different stakeholders. Important to enabling such trust in organiza-
tions is the kind of culture noted in Chap. 6, including clear procedures
embodying dialogue and external arbitration.
Trust, then, can be seen as essentially a relational commitment to the
self or the other. In effect this is faith in the other, which may be based in
an end (intrinsic or extrinsic), from the good of the relationship to some
wider purpose enabled by the relationship. It is possible, then, to see
trust as a virtue, not least because trust requires the action of giving trust,
which involves letting go of control and allowing the other to practise
self- or shared governance. As with Aristotle’s virtues, the mean would be
flanked by the two extremes of inability to trust (therefore always looking
to control others) and giving trust too easily. Strictly speaking here, the
virtue of trust is the capacity to trust.
Mature trust, then, involves a focus on identity, worth and purpose,
and thus involves the development of a truthful, reliable and mutual
re-presentation of the self. The truthful re-presentation enables the per-
son or organization to reveal over time motives and related meaning.
Indeed it could be said that with each account—that is, through staff
 8 Integrity, Trust, Corruption and Counterfeits 241

development, policy development, annual review and so on—that the

organization gives of its values and practices, it is creating a situation
where stakeholders, internal and external, are able to diagnose the level
and nature of trust.
Allied to this are the two other elements of Aristotle’s rhetoric, logos
and pathos, the first involving logical thinking and the shaping of a
convincing argument, the second, attention to relationships and associ-
ated feelings, and the practice of empathy. Both enable mutual critical
dialogue. Such dialogue precisely enables the development of trust and
trustworthiness in all parties.
In the light of trust based on the practice of integrity we may conclude
several things to add to the models above about engaging trust after a
violation of trust. First, it demands learning to develop mature trust,
around mutual responsibility. Second, development of mature trust, with
employees as well as well as external stakeholders, requires both indepen-
dent review of the organization and continued independent involvement
in enabling the organization to reflect on its shadow side. This was well
set out by Siemens. The external perspective provides a consistent focus
on values and purpose which transcend the self-interest of the organiza-
tion (cf. the Nestlé case in Chap. 3). Openness to external complexity
also provides challenge to any sense of identity.
Third, the affective aspect of responsibility needs to be given space.
This is not simply about allowing employees and stakeholders the space
to ventilate their feelings. The ventilation of those feelings will help them
to see how they had been oblivious to the problems. Also required is
working through their identity and purpose and thus connecting feelings
to values. Fourth, this will in turn require the provision of more space
and time for dialogue, and with that the confidence to find a moral voice,
individually and corporately. Fifth, undergirding the whole process is the
development of justice. The key focus is on repairing relationships. In the
Siemens case that involved rich complexity: relationships between co-
workers who had either allowed colleagues to practise corruption or had
abused colleagues’ trust; relationships between the workforce and leader-
ship; relationships between the firm and stakeholders. Ultimately the use
of stakeholder salience in dealing with these relationships is secondary to
this. Whatever the position or power of the different stakeholders, the
242 The Practice of Integrity in Business

perceived breach in the relationship is central and has to be addressed

through dialogue in relation to shared meaning, including different
perceptions of justice and responsibility. It is precisely such perceptions
that legitimize the feelings. Elements of this are clearly addressed in the
Siemens case.
This feeds through the dynamics of apology. An authentic apology
focuses on taking responsibility. It should come from the leader repre-
senting the board/firm. Whilst there may be other members of the firm
who were the immediate cause, this recognizes that the board are ulti-
mately severally responsible for the direction and culture of the organiza-
tion. Apology should not diminish or deny the event or its consequences.
It should focus not simply on publicly recognizing the feelings of dif-
ferent parties or that anger, confusion, disbelief are all proper responses
to the event, but on the meaning of the perceived breach. Again this
involves ideas such as justice, including fairness (Rawls 1971), abuse and
so on. Leaders and managers who focus on control see the expressions of
such emotions as a threat to their authority, and so focus on the prob-
lem of the person or the person as problem. The relationship, however,
cannot be addressed without focusing on perceived experience of injus-
tice or betrayal. Being able to handle anger is a mark of being trustwor-
thy, revealing a capacity to handle ambiguity and conflict and still stay
focused on the person and issue. This is a little more profound than dem-
onstrating that the other has the person’s interests at heart rather than his
or her own. It involves, rather, the exercise of respect for the autonomy
and identity of the other and expression of commitment towards the
other. As part of the development of narrative about the previous regime
related emotions should be engaged, thereby allowing those concerned to
take responsibility for meaning and practice in relation to the company.
Finally, as noted above, in the light a shared appreciation of justice
and in the development of positive responsibility, the shared commit-
ment and creative action affirm genuine change. The authenticity of the
change is confirmed in the practice of taking responsibility for mean-
ing and practice in relationships. At the base of the Siemens case was
corruption. Hence, the firm and its employees needed to understand
what that meant, not least its effect on trust. It is to corruption, then,
that I will now turn.
 8 Integrity, Trust, Corruption and Counterfeits 243

Integrity and Corruption

The root of corruption is generally thought to be the Latin corruptus
(Bosman 2012), the state of being rotten, decayed, transferable to the
morally unsound state of being degenerate, decadent and depraved. In
the Tusculan Disputations 4.13, Cicero refers the corruptio of both body
and of opinions, stressing similarities between the diseases of body and
mind. The Greek equivalent for ‘corrupt’ and ‘corruption’ involves terms
such as μοχθηρία (‘depravity’), λωβκσθαι (‘to harm’ and ‘to seduce’)
and δεκάζειν (‘to bribe’), fitting well with the case of Socrates, who was
accused of corrupting the minds of the youth of Athens.
Transparency International (TI) prefers a general definition of corrup-
tion as ‘the abuse of entrusted power for private gain’.1 They classify this
corruption as grand, petty or political, depending on the amounts of
money lost and the sector where the corruption occurs. Grand corruption
involves actions at a high level which distort policies or functions of state.
Leaders tend to benefit from this. Petty corruption involves the abuse
of entrusted power by low- or middle-level functionaries, and involves
access to goods and services, often essential. Political corruption involves
manipulation of rules or institutions in the allocation of resources.
The definition is deceptively simple but contains three key elements.
The first is the breakdown of core purpose and related value systems. In
TI’s classification there is a breakdown in the core practice of justice in
areas where those involved are employed to fulfil this purpose in their
practice. The effects of this will vary, but it sets up a secret countercul-
ture which begins to erode the core values in practice. Second, at the
same time as the breakdown of values and purpose, teleopathy, in prac-
tice there is the continued re-presentation of the original values, as if
they are at the centre of the organization’s identity. This might be termed
hypocrisy, where someone pretends to believe something that they do not
really believe, or that is the opposite of what they do or say at another
time (from Greek hupokrisis ‘acting of a theatrical part’).
As Argyris (1980) noted, in a sense we do this all the time. At one
level this may involve intentional deception, leading to fraud. Hence,
1
http://www.transparency.org/what-is-corruption/#define
244 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Enron’s Chair and CEO worked hard to keep underlying fraud under
wraps whilst at the same time portraying the firm as an ethical corpora-
tion (Toffler 2003). In this case the shadow side of the organization was
the dark side, and intentionally kept in the shadow. Key to that was the
way in which they involved other organizations, from Arthur Andersen
to several banks, in their activities. Because these organizations were mak-
ing money out of their relationships they deliberately did not ask any
questions about the transactions, on the basis that if they did not ask,
then they would not be seen as responsible for any wrongdoing. In turn,
because the firm was associated with these bodies, all of whom claimed
a good reputation, Enron was able to buttress their re-presentation as
an ethical organization. A very similar dynamic was found in the Lance
Armstrong case (Walsh 2015). Systematic corruption was tied to a strong
articulation of positive value and belief, enhanced by Armstrong’s iden-
tity of hero fighting cancer, and where even the cycling authorities did
not question this re-presentation, partly because Armstrong brought in
American corporate support for the sport. Hence, the sport’s governing
body took this as endorsements.
At another level the conspiracy shades into cock-up. Paine (1994) suggests
that organizational breakdowns, ‘rarely reflect an organizational culture and
management philosophy that sets out to harm or deceive. More often they
reveal a culture that is insensitive or indifferent to ethical considerations or
one that lacks effective organizational systems’ (ibid., 108–109). Mid Staffs
might be thought to fall into this last category, expect that real harm was
done. The lack of intent to harm makes it no less corruption, in the sense
that practice betrayed and broke down relationships and went against core
professional values. The only difference was in the motive of the corruption,
which, as the Francis Report (2013) suggested, was based in fear. The same
can be said of the governance crisis in the Roman Catholic Church sur-
rounding the clergy’s involvement in child sex abuse scandals. The response
of the leadership generated fear and defensiveness (Robinson 2011).
All these cases had three things in common. Those who saw what was
happening did not speak up effectively (Verhezen 2010). Many did not
see, or chose not to see, what was happening, or chose to judge the sig-
nificance of the events in a way which was contrary to reality. Nurses and
doctors chose not to see the patients who were suffering. Enron man-
agers and the board chose not to see the significance of the subsidiary
 8 Integrity, Trust, Corruption and Counterfeits 245

companies. Church leaders chose not see the legal or moral significance
of child sex abuse. Finally, the dynamic of corruption was based on a
cocktail of emotions, held in place by dominant unexamined narrative.
The dominant narrative for Mid Staffs had been about the sustainabil-
ity of the NHS, in Enron about development into the biggest and best
corporation in the US. In the Roman Catholic Church the narrative was
about defending the good name of the Church (Robinson 2011). The
underlying emotions, respectively, were about fear, greed and, in the case
of the Church, a certain hubris which saw the values of the Church as
more important than the needs of others or any wider picture of justice.
The third element of the TI definition is the breakdown of relation-
ships. Core value and purpose mediate the meaning and practice of rela-
tionships and corruption involved the betrayal of those relationships. This
is analogous to the breakdown in health I noted in Chap. 3. Corruption,
in individuals and in organizations, can be seen as a disease which breaks
down the health of integrity. Corruption in this sense cannot be sim-
ply defined in terms of fraud. Indeed, there is a danger, as I will show
below, of fixing the bar of corruption too high, and ignoring anything
less. Organizations such as the Mid Staffs Trust and the Roman Catholic
Church can be judged to have been corrupt. For the most part this was
not an intentional corruption in the sense of financial fraud. There was,
however, another form of moral and relational fraud which sought to sub-
vert justice (relational and legal), deny responsibility and disallow critical
dialogue. The metaphor of disease is appropriate because in both cases
there was significant relational breakdown and loss of engagement with
reality. Hence, any attempt to fight corruption cannot focus simply on
systems development or regulation. It has to focus on the development
of culture of integrity as noted in the previous chapter. Such a culture
would also test two related and connected ideas—counterfeit integrity
and confused ethical thinking—both of which can slide into corruption.

Counterfeit Integrity
There are many examples of attempts to imitate integrity, with the focus
on presenting a picture of integrity. Corruption attempts to benefit
from deception, and the presentation of integrity is there to disguise this
246 The Practice of Integrity in Business

behaviour. Counterfeit integrity might be termed the instrumental re-

presentation of the self. In other words, integrity is practised to increase
profits (Cox et al. 1999). One of the most striking examples of that has
been the rise and fall of sustainability in BP.

Beyond Petroleum

In the 1990s British Petroleum decided it was important to respond to

the issues surrounding global warming and climate change. It withdrew
from the Global Climate Coalition (against scientific views of global
warming) and from the lobbying group for oil-drilling in the Arctic
National Wildlife Refuge. The name ‘British Petroleum’ was changed to
‘BP’, standing for ‘Beyond Petroleum’. The accompanying narrative was
that BP would focus on both the development of alternative fuels and the
reduction of its own carbon emissions. This led to a 10 per cent cut in
emissions of greenhouse gases, saving $600 million, and increased invest-
ment in solar energy equipment.
These developments were met with some scepticism both internally
and externally. Internally there was increasing concern that this approach
did not take into account opportunity costs and potential business lost
through time spent on the green agenda. Externally, the media ques-
tioned how an extractive corporation could lay claim to sustainable prac-
tice (Frey 2002, Murphy 2002).
Ten years on from BP’s development of corporate sustainability, the
exploration of the Gulf of Mexico was reaching fruition. On 20 April
2010, the Deepwater Horizon oil rig exploded, killing eleven workers.
The resulting oil leak was estimated at about 4.9 million barrels (205.8
million gallons), the largest ever in US-controlled waters. It damaged
hundreds of miles of coastline, affecting related industries, before it was
capped in July. The case was complex, involving several different corpo-
rations. The National Commission on the Deepwater Horizon disaster
(2011) reported systemic failures across all the organizations involved
that were likely to recur. These included: inadequate oversight by govern-
ment regulatory bodies; inadequate engineering planning and decision-
making, in the light of deepwater drilling practice that was not well
established; decisions based on saving time and money; failure across the
 8 Integrity, Trust, Corruption and Counterfeits 247

system to be aware of the environment in which they were operating; and

fragmentation of responsibility and decision-making across the different
groups involved. In all this there was little sense of a culture of responsibil-
ity for the whole project. On the contrary, there was evidence of: lack of
awareness of the environment, internally and externally; lack of sustained
risk assessments at every point and in terms of the overall project; lack
of systemic concern for safety; little effective negotiation of responsibility
with stakeholders or partners. Much of this is summed up in BP’s 582-
page regional spill plan for the Gulf, and its 52-page, site-specific plan for
the Deepwater Horizon rig. This included fundamental errors, such as
misidentification of creatures that would be at risk (cut-and-pasted from
another region’s document), out-of-date information about experts, and
no oceanic or meteorological data, despite the ocean-floor site being in a
hurricane-prone region.
This case points to the development of a counterfeit (imitation) integ-
rity. Imitation, of course, can be morally unacceptable, based on the
intention to deceive for a bad end, such as the sale of counterfeit works
of art. It may be unintended counterfeit, based on a desire to look good.
There is nothing to suggest that John Browne (2015) did not believe in
his re-presentation of the identity of BP, or that he did not believe in the
importance of developing sustainability as part of the practice of BP. BP
were the first major corporation to accept publicly the phenomenon of
global warming and the need for business to take responsibility for deal-
ing with it. However, even at the early stage of the company’s campaign
there were indications of counterfeit activity. The big campaign to gener-
ate a green image raised three major contradictions. First, the amount
of money spent on green projects was very small compared to the future
investment of over $15 billion in drilling in the Gulf of Mexico. Second,
BP did become involved in exploration for oil in Alaska. Third, in the
decade up to the Deepwater Horizon incident there were several major
health and safety and environmental disasters, including Prudhoe Bay,
Alaska.
The evidence from the incident suggests internal contradiction between
the sustainability policy and the practice of responsibility on the ground
in everyday decisions. The former is well developed and thought through,
as noted above, and the latter reveals little sense of agency (knowing what
248 The Practice of Integrity in Business

was being done and what effect it had or might have on the environ-
ment), no clarity about accountability and no worked-through shared
responsibility, not least amongst the key players. In that sense there is
no evidence of a culture of integrity or of the individual or corporate
capacities of responsibility. Even the nature of sustainability and positive
responsibility had not been thought through. This kind of deep-sea drill-
ing was relatively untried, and in taking decisions about drilling there was
no evidence of attempts to anticipate unintended consequences, includ-
ing the potential effect of any major disaster. Hence, the precautionary
principle, erring on the side of safety, as set out by the Rio Declaration of
1992, was not applied (cf. Grace and Cohen 2005, 150).
The re-presentation of the organization was not genuine. This is often
characterized as ‘greenwashing’, defined as ‘disinformation disseminated
by an organization so as to present an environmentally responsible public
image’ (Concise Oxford English Dictionary). In the BP case, this could
not be described as disinformation but was, rather, a lack of integration
between the vision and the practice of responsibility on the ground. This
reinforces the argument that integrity cannot be seen as primarily instru-
mental (to improve business relations). It has to be focused on respon-
sible practice on the ground.

Confusion/Equivocation
By ‘confusion’ I mean intentional confusion and related equivocation,
and this is focused on the issue that the UK public are most concerned
about: corporate tax avoidance. There is not the space to give this issue
the detail it deserves, and so I want to examine simply the issue of integ-
rity. The four major auditing networks have developed over seventy
different schemes for corporations to avoid paying tax. This has led to
major global corporations paying relatively small amount of tax. Global
annual revenue losses from such schemes are conservatively estimated
at $100–240 billion. This involves between 4 and 10 per cent of global
corporate income tax revenues.
Three key factors indicate that the accountancy networks choose
not to practise integrity. First, they do not exhibit the first mode of
 8 Integrity, Trust, Corruption and Counterfeits 249

responsibility. They do not know if their schemes in every case are legal or
not. This is partly because the schemes are so complex that determination
of their legality could take several years (House of Commons Committee
of Public Accounts [CPA] 2013). The Parliamentary Committee noted
evidence that some firms were selling products which had only a 25 per
cent chance of legality. One firm suggested that this was closer to 50 per
cent. The old division between tax avoidance and tax evasion no longer
holds. The firms also do not take responsibility for being aware of how
their actions affect wider society. For instance, developing countries have
a greater reliance on corporate income tax revenues as a percentage of tax
revenue. The impact of such schemes on whole countries is significant.
Second, the networks avoid a full account of their values, purpose,
practice and relationships. Once they open to public dialogue, as in the
Public Accounts Committee (2013), they simply return to the asser-
tion that what they are doing is not illegal. In other words, they refuse
to engage in a dialogue about moral meaning. The issues of regional,
national and global justice, and the contribution of the networks to
injustice, are not engaged. The reliance on legality becomes very difficult
to sustain. In the UK the relationship between the government and the
industry has led to questions about conflict of interest, with key industry
figures advising government on the aspects of tax law, and then returning
to the industry. Equally the means of applying the law have been inad-
equate, with limited resources from the HRMC unable to make ground
on better-resourced industry, whose aim is to develop ways to get around
the rules. Regulators such as the Financial Reporting Council (FRC) have
been equally hamstrung (CPA 2013).
Third, the big four simply deny responsibility for their practice and
its significance. Tax issues are, of course, complex, and there have been
important moves to develop a coherent response to this issue, not least
from the OECD (2015). This has culminated in the EU anti-tax avoid-
ance package agreement in 2016, including: legally binding measures to
block the most common methods used by companies to avoid paying tax;
a proposal for member states to share tax-related information on multi-
nationals operating in the EU; actions to promote tax good governance
internationally; and a new EU process for listing third countries that
refuse to ‘play fair’ (EU 2016).
250 The Practice of Integrity in Business

Clearly a resolution of this issue required such an international

response, and this has to be part of any negotiation of responsibility. But
the big four do not seem to be part of that dialogue. This might suggest
that the big four, like Nestlé and others in the early stage of their cases,
have not begun to face the challenges of positive responsibility. Their re-
presentation of their identity, however, claims that they have. For exam-
ple, the Deloitte web page on corporate responsibility reads:

Corporate Responsibility & Sustainability

The Deloitte network is committed to driving societal change and pro-
moting environmental sustainability. Working in innovative ways with
government, non-profit organizations, and civil society, we are designing
and delivering solutions that contribute to a sustainable and prosperous
future for all.2

This statement has the bold assertion of positive responsibility, in

which there is no equivocation, only the search for a creative contribu-
tion to society. It is important, then, to contrast that with the responses of
the heads of taxation to Margaret Hodge’s Public Accounts Committee.
These were characterized by equivocation and obfuscation, with the
attempt to replace phrases like ‘tax avoidance’ with technical phrases such
as ‘tax planning’ and ‘tax efficiency’. This was supported by the argument
(moral fallacy) that ‘everybody else does it’.
The question, then, for the big four is: can they see the dissonance in
this, and what account would they give of this? Brooks (2013) notes that
this is an issue which involves injustice and that the public, evidenced by
various grassroots groups, are very aware of this.
The work of Matthew Gill (2011) raises such questions in perhaps a
more profound way for the accounting industry. As I noted at the start
of this book, accountancy re-presents itself as a profession, one which is
therefore focused on the greater good. The evidence from Gill’s research
suggests that junior accountants, in particular, have little awareness of
this. It suggests that the dominant discourse in accounting ‘does not
take ethics particularly seriously’ (Gill 2011, 123). This is shown up in
2
http://www2.deloitte.com/global/en/pages/about-deloitte/topics/corporate-responsibility-sus-
tainability.html
 8 Integrity, Trust, Corruption and Counterfeits 251

several different practices which appeared to be part of the work cul-

ture. One was phantom ticking. This involved junior auditors faced by
repetitive and laborious work ticking in audit files that something had
been checked when it had not. They recognized that it was wrong but
did because, again, ‘everyone else does it’. Another example from Gill’s
research was the erecting of Chinese walls, where a single accounting firm
was acting for two or more firms in bids to buy another company. Gill’s
junior auditors suggested that these walls were not secure, and that it
would not makes sense to do the work more than once anyway.
What makes this research so important is two things. First, there is a
juvenile tone to the responses which treats these actions as, in the par-
ticipants’ words, ‘minor felonies’ (Gill 2011, 121). In other words the
actions are trivialized. Central to this is the implication that the persons
who do this are not fully responsible for their actions, or perhaps that
others are responsible for them. Second, the research participants per-
ceived ethics as dogmatic and judgemental, and as a result did not take
them seriously, indeed assumed that nobody did. Hence, their response
to questions was characterized by confusion, equivocation, obfuscation
and the use of technical language (cf. Bauman 1989). One participant
(Gill, 124) is able to speak of his own ethics, but also of being able to
‘flex’ his ethics. As Gill writes, this seems to render ethics ‘something
external to himself, which he can work upon’ (ibid.). Other participants
spoke of the declaration of values making them vulnerable, ‘which is not
necessarily the best thing in an aggressive corporate atmosphere’ (ibid.,
125). Both perspectives reveal an absence of the practice of integrity, the
first not connecting ethics to the self, the second fearful of giving an
account of the self.3 These perspectives were evident, despite the ethics
training that they were given. Interestingly, one participant suggests that
only in answering the research questions had he begun to connect values
to his own self, comparing the experience to psychotherapy (ibid., 127).
This suggests the ethics training did not engage through dialogue. Gill’s
research also suggests that cover-ups of practices are not necessarily from
the top. His participants suggested that cover-ups, large- and small-scale,
3
Similar dynamics are in play in Stuart Gulliver’s assertion that rules which applied to him as
profession did not apply to him as private individual. http://www.telegraph.co.uk/finance/newsby-
sector/banksandfinance/11430617/HSBC-boss-Stuart-Gulliver-defends-himself-against-claims-of-secret-
252 The Practice of Integrity in Business

derive from a counterculture generated by the workforce based on the

trivialization of ethical issues.
Both these points resonate directly with the big four’s defence of their
actions. It is as if the use of technical language and the use of moral fal-
lacies cannot be seen by others.4 They are ways of making things opaque,
and thus the very opposite of mature integrity. Opacity thus becomes the
shadow side. This raises the question of how the counterfeit and confu-
sion relate to corruption. Several clues emerge from Gill’s research. First,
participants recognized that there was a grey area between corruption
and their practice. Second, some participants tried to characterize cor-
ruption as extreme, such as briefcases full of cash offered. The point here
was to distance themselves from such acts (126). Third, nonetheless, they
could envision themselves as crossing the line if pressure was brought to
bear from a superior (127). Fourth, some participants (126) suggested
that thinking of ways to get around the Finance Act every year could be
viewed as ‘borderline corrupt’. This suggests that, where integrity is not
practised, the movement from ‘minor felonies’ to more serious corrup-
tion could take place without being noticed. Hence, any fight against
corruption once again has to be based on the development of a culture
of integrity.

The Identity of Business

Gill’s research brings us right back to the nature of integrity, as some-
thing which is not arms-length ethics, not about finding ways to do the
right thing or ‘doing ethics’, but being ethical, ethics which is focused
on our being, and thus our self. Our identity is the sense we make of
that self (Swann and Bosson 2010). The dialogue and narrative all help
to make that sense and thus to take responsibility for ourselves and our
relationships.
This is important to business because business is part of a complex
network of relationships (Norman 2015). From reflections above we
should expect the identity of business to be complex, relating to many

4
Just because everyone else does it does not make it right.
 8 Integrity, Trust, Corruption and Counterfeits 253

different narratives, and even ambiguous. First, it is not a simple private

entity. We tend to view businesses as set apart from society and dealing
with it through contracts of different kinds. Such a private enterprise in
a traditional sense would involve a private owner or owners. However,
the corporation has elements of a quasi-public entity. In the UK and
Commonwealth countries a corporation is called a public company, in
the sense that its shares and debentures are open to the public for sub-
scriptions. It is an independent legal person, separate from any private
individuals, including shareholders. This legal status and power are cre-
ated and granted by the state, not by private contracts. In other words,
the state allows the organization to exist. Moreover, the privilege of lim-
ited liability and bankruptcy granted by the state is in return associated
with some public interests and with social responsibility. The corporation
is subject to public scrutiny (public registration, public disclosure, public
inquiry and so on), and it is involved in public functions (regulations,
public goods) with huge societal impacts. In addition, the rules of limited
liability and bankruptcy allow corporations to shift their financial, social
and environmental liabilities to their stakeholders and the public. Limited
liability and bankruptcy mean that while shareholders only assume a
small part of the corporate liabilities, wider stakeholders, including credi-
tors and employees, bear often the largest part of corporate liabilities.
This points to business and society as being mutually dependent.
Second, despite attempts of Nohria and Khurana (2008) to see busi-
ness as a profession, analogous to professions such as law and medicine,
business is more complex than that. The identity of business emerges not
from a pre-determined role but rather from dialogue with other profes-
sions, who may be the focus of the corporation, such as engineering or
accountancy, or dialogue with stakeholders. Purpose, then, also emerges
from those relationships in society.
De Bettignies and Lepineux (2009) argue that business is increasingly
taking on the role of social change agents (cf. Bies et al. 2007). This is
especially true of TNCs. The annual turnover of the largest corporations
in the world exceeds the GDP of many countries, not just the poorest.
Although these comparisons are crude, they nonetheless indicate influ-
ence and economic strength in relation to states. TNCs directly rein-
force global inequalities, and thus global injustice, in collaboration with
254 The Practice of Integrity in Business

international finance institutions, such as the World Bank (Stiglitz 2002,

De Bettignies and Lepineux 2009). De Bettignies and Lepineux also
argue that in the global context nation-states can no longer be assumed
to be the guarantors of the common good. Other economic and social
actors progressively understand that they have a role in solving global
problems too, and that they have to contribute their share to the com-
mon good. In a global context there is no single organization that has the
power or jurisdiction to take responsibility for everything. Globalization
(Singer 2002) demands that all parties work together to share responsibil-
ity and ensure that this is worked through.
These points reinforce a theme that has been repeated throughout this
book: that integrity cannot be viewed as self-contained, be that personal,
professional, organizational, corporate, political and so on. The dynamic
of integrity is essentially inter-agency, and thus focused on dialogue, with
the agent (the self ), with professions, between the professions, between
the professions and the corporations, between corporations and the wider
industry, between corporations and civil society, and between politics and
civil society. Without that dialogue we run the danger of one or more of
those institutions trying to subvert meaning and practice to their own
ends. Regulation is best achieved through this multiplicity of dialogue
(King III) focused on the various anchor points noted above.

Conclusion
The argument of this book is that integrity is simply about taking respon-
sibility for meaning and practice, for giving an account in relationships
and for taking responsibility, with others, for the future. At its centre is
dialogue, which enables the development of individual and corporate
narrative, and engagement with complexity. Part of engaging that com-
plexity involves critical relationships to value anchor points, including,
professional and project purpose, narratives of justice, and human rights.
Each of these requires procedural anchor points which embody the values,
enable dialogue and demonstrate an independent perspective. The prac-
tice of integrity involves engaging difference, and this provides the basis
of regulation based not just on formal codes but on stakeholder dialogue.
 8 Integrity, Trust, Corruption and Counterfeits 255

Such integrity holds together consciousness of the complex and inter-

connected social and physical environment, critical challenge, con-
nectivity, commitment to people and projects over time, change and
transformation (through openness to learning), and creativity (being
responsible for the future). It also holds together the practice of the dif-
ferent virtues.
Integrity is not about being secure on the moral high ground, still
less about defending that. Defence of integrity lies precisely in the prac-
tice of dialogue. Nor is integrity about asserting a particular paradigm:
for instance, replacing a paradigm of greed with a paradigm of altruism.
Integrity is not about altruism, but about taking responsibility for pur-
pose and values such as justice.
De Woot (2009) argues that we do have to change paradigms and
therefore that Prometheus, representing the growth of business and tech-
nology, should be bound.5 Technological and business development have
to move away from the focus of greed. Integrity, however, has a slightly
different focus. The logic of the concept I have argued for is not about
either subverting or asserting paradigms but about challenging our own-
ership of them, and enabling responsibility for meaning and practice. In
that light Prometheus (meaning forethought) actually embodies integ-
rity. His action, in response to the narratives of his brother Epimetheus
(after thought), Zeus and humanity is to take responsibility for the future,
standing up against Zeus and for humanity. For all his failings there is a
rich narrative there which we can engage.
Nor can integrity be viewed as instrumental: the business case for integ-
rity, that it will lead to success. Whilst there is good evidence that lack
of integrity can lead to business failure, there is little empirical evidence
that integrity simplistically leads to success. Integrity as described brings
together intellectual, psychological, moral and practical meaning, and
interactive virtues which increase awareness, creativity and so on. What
follows from the re-presentation of the ‘self ’ in practice, then, will fol-
low. The instrumentality of integrity always runs the danger of counter-
feit presentation, being concerned less about the truthful re-presentation

5
Prometheus was the Greek Titan who stole fire from the gods, and with that the tools of survival,
including technical development, to give to humans.
256 The Practice of Integrity in Business

than about image and outcomes. In this Olympic year it is worth remem-
bering that the inspiring torch relay had its origins in the Nazi Olympics
of 1936, not in ancient Greece (Large 2007).
Integrity, then, is found in the middle, like all the virtues. It is pre-
cisely from there that business can find perspective; it is part of the wider
human project, with each business working out what that means in its
own comprehensive practice. The response of Jacob Marley’s ghost to
Scrooge’s compliment that he was a good man of business is instructive
(Dickens 1951, 29):

Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity,

mercy, forbearance, benevolence, were all my business. The dealings of my
trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my
business!

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 Epilogue: Integrity and the Business
School

In this book I have tried to spell out the nature of integrity as truthful
re-presentation of the self, involving taking responsibility: for value,
meaning, practice and relationships; for giving an account of this identity
to stakeholders which is true to self and true to others; and for sharing
responsibility for creative response. This epilogue poses questions about
the integrity of business schools, by which I mean the practice of integrity
in business schools, in teaching, research and management. I will explore
the purpose and value of business schools as part of higher education, and
draw out implications for the practice of integrity.

The Purpose and Values of Business Schools

Business schools and business studies do not have a long history. In fact,
it is just over fifty years since the first UK business schools were founded
(Cannon 2015). The aim was to revivify business leadership, and business
schools would be analogous to medical schools or law schools. The vast
majority of business schools are part of a university and thus offer higher

© The Author(s) 2016 261

S. Robinson, The Practice of Integrity in Business,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-51553-7
262 Epilogue: Integrity and the Business School

education. The identity and purpose of a business school, then, is linked

to the purpose of universities.

The Purpose of Universities

Universities should not be institutions for the training of an efficient
bureaucracy, for the equipping of scientists to get the better of foreign sci-
entists; they should stand for the preservation of learning, for the pursuit
of truth, and, in so far as men are capable of it, the attainment of wisdom.
(Eliot 1962, 123)

T. S. Eliot’s resounding clarion call should make every leader in higher

education think twice. It focuses on a community of practice rather than
an institution and sets out core values, such as autonomy and intellectual
independence. It looks at core responsibilities to the sector as a whole,
and to key purposes, including the development of a virtue (wisdom) and
the pursuit of truth. To some extent this harks back the vision of Cardinal
Newman (2015), who argued that learning should be pursued for its
own sake. But that vision has been challenged with the arrival of business
schools in the 1960s, and accession of polytechnics to higher education
in 1992, both focusing on the utility of higher education. Some suggest
that this has precipitated a crisis of identity (cf. Reeves 1988). Warnock
even suggested that ‘we no longer know what a university is’.1
Like most things, however, crises in universities have been around for
some time (Moberly 1949). In fact, two things do seem clear historically:
first, that the ‘university’ has been constantly evolving; and second, that
it has evolved in response to different groups in society and to the under-
lying values of the many stakeholders. Oxford and Cambridge were, in
origin, universities which provided education for the professional classes,
focusing on theology and law. They, like Newman’s vision of the uni-
versity, had little sense of research. The modern university, focused on
research, began to emerge in the late seventeenth century in Halle, reach-
ing its peak in Berlin in the first decade of the nineteenth century.

1
Mary Warnock, Anglican Chaplains’ Conference, High Lea, Hoddesden, September 1996.
 Epilogue: Integrity and the Business School 263

Some argue that the focus on utility lost the deep sense of familial
community exemplified by the Oxbridge colleges, which naturally com-
municate values within the institution of care, respect, responsibility and
commitment, as well as the pursuit of excellence (Megone 2005). But the
historical reality of this ideal lacked any sense of equality, justice or inclu-
sivity, dominated as it was by an Anglican, and male, elite (Bebbington
1992). Much of the subsequent history of the sector is about breaking
down such power and pursuing widening participation, setting up a ten-
sion between social purpose and excellence (Daniel Jenkins 1961).
Dearing, in his report on higher education, attempts to sum up the
very different values in terms of four purposes:

• to inspire and enable individuals to develop their capabilities to the

highest potential levels throughout life, so that they grow intellectu-
ally, are well equipped for work, can contribute effectively to society
and achieve personal fulfilment
• to increase knowledge and understanding for their own sake and to
foster their application to the benefit of the economy and society
• to serve the needs of an adaptable, sustainable, knowledge-based econ-
omy at local, regional and national levels
• to play a major role in shaping a democratic, civilised, inclusive soci-
ety. (Dearing 1997)

To Dearing’s review of purpose might be added the role of education

in developing equality, not least of opportunity. R. H. Tawney (1930)
saw ‘the kingdom of ideas’ as bringing the classes together and changing
society. These purposes reflect the concerns of different stakeholders, and
are in the context of both a huge rise in the numbers of students and
increasing uncertainty about what can be funded.
Alongside equality is the principle of academic freedom, freedom to
pursue research unencumbered by powerful interests. This could be char-
acterized either as research for its own sake or as research for the com-
mon good, both transcending interests. The idea of academic freedom
ties into the nature of learning, based on rigorous thinking and research.
David Jenkins (1988) argues that this can hold together the many differ-
ent purposes and their underlying values. Alongside research, personal
264 Epilogue: Integrity and the Business School

and economic development, learning and training the university should

be both an ‘essentially critical place’ and a place of betterment. The criti-
cal stance demands that universities can achieve a degree of distance so
that they can subject all the other purposes and related organizations in
and outside the university to critical scrutiny. This demands that univer-
sities stand out against reductionism or any attempts to limit the open-
ness and plurality of the university. Jenkins’ point about betterment is
individual, corporate and political. Universities are for the betterment of
human beings, but they are also about contributing to a bigger picture,
about contributing to the moral imagination of the wider community.
None of this is to say that universities are in the game of intentionally
changing the world, in the sense of asserting one paradigm over another.
Nonetheless, the university does have a social responsibility allied to their
core purposes, and expressed well by MacIntyre (1990), who argued that
universities are places where ‘conceptions of and standards of rational
justification are elaborated, put to working detail practices of enquiry,
and themselves rationally evaluated, so that only from the university can
wider society learn how to conduct its own debates, practical or theoreti-
cal, in a rationally defensible way’ (ibid., 222). This critical stance and
move for betterment takes the university beyond value-neutrality. Here
are values which are worth fighting for, affirming affective intelligence as
well as rationality. It is such values that begin to contribute not just to a
civilized society but to the definition of a civilized society.

Business Schools and Integrity

The challenge of this to business schools is significant, demanding a
stance which is independent from business, and holding together very
different purposes. The pressure against this is massive. Universities have
seen business schools as ‘cash cows’, selling ‘products’ to customers with
business utility. This consumer model was reinforced by the introduction
of payment of university fees.
Worse than this, in the credit crisis business schools, in reports,
research, consultancy and teaching, consistently supported or ignored
behaviour which was either corrupt or did not reflect the practice of
 Epilogue: Integrity and the Business School 265

integrity (Khurana 2010), and were well rewarded for it. It is not just
that they did not have the courage to challenge business. They did not
even reflect on their values and practice enough to make the practice of
courage an issue.
This demands dialogue about and articulation of values and purpose of
business schools. Two things have skewed such an articulation of purpose:
the uncritical acceptance of utility, and the focus on the scientific model
of business studies. The first of these sees the purpose of business schools
as largely contributing to individual and national economic performance.
From the stress on performance comes the need to develop tools, most
often based on rational and linear approaches to management. As I argued
above, such an approach has failed to engage the complexity of practice
and the social and physical environment. The second problem has been
the focus on science. Bennis and O’Toole (2005, Bennis 2012) note
how, focused in the development of the MBA, business studies adopted
a strictly scientific approach, partly to legitimize its academic identity.
This is reinforced by research exercises which focus on the production of
starred journal articles, further focusing on the narrow rational approach
to management and leadership, and leading to a polarization of theory
and practice, with academic energy and expertise focused on the develop-
ment of theory (Bennis and O’Toole 2005, Ghoshal 2005, Bennis 2012).
This in turn has led an erosion of engagement with business.
Up to this point there is a picture of fragmentation, polarization and
even denial of responsibility (‘we are simply doing what the university
wants, bringing in money’). Absent from this is any reflection or dialogue
which attempts to bring together theory and practice with value. The
presence of value would bring in social, psychological and intellectual
complexity, reflecting the reality of practice. It would also bring a focus
on the skills and virtues needed to negotiate such complexity, not least
the practice of judgement. There are voices which argue for this, not least
in leadership studies (cf. Western 2008, Robinson and Smith 2014), but
there is little evidence that business schools actually articulate this debate
as part of the development of their identity, in their management and gov-
ernance. This is partly a problem of being in a university. A CIHE report
(2005, cf. Kaul and Smith 2012) included initial research which sug-
gested that there was a lack of common discourse about values in higher
266 Epilogue: Integrity and the Business School

education. A majority of institutions had a series of different documents

around ethical practice often produce by different departments or for
different functions. There was little sense of the connection between dif-
ferent areas or cognate concepts, such as corporate responsibility, equality
and diversity, health and safety or research ethics. Only seven of the insti-
tutions who replied to the CIHE had codes or statements that covered
the institution as a whole. In turn this led to inconsistency and a lack of
clarity. Of the universities that did have value statements, over 70 per
cent of those who responded were unable to articulate how these values
were embodied in the institution. Research in business schools suggests
similar fragmentation (Kaul and Smith 2012).
It is not surprising that the strongest focus for the majority of uni-
versities is on research ethics. Given the drivers of risk and reputation,
and the requirements of the main research grant and professional bodies,
research ethics has now reached a sophisticated level, locked into gov-
ernance mechanisms. However, the connection between research ethics
and the wider ethical identity of the university is rarely made, obscuring
the fact that many research ethics committees find themselves in practice
dealing with wider ethical issues.

The Practice of Integrity

So how might business schools develop the practice of integrity? First,
given the different narratives within the business school and beyond, sus-
tained dialogue between stakeholders would be critical in developing an
account of values, purpose and practice. This includes dialogue with staff
and students, the different professional and discipline bodies (noted in
Chapter 3), the university, and regional and national business leaders.
Second, as noted above, there would be a need to develop a culture of
integrity. For a business school this would mean taking responsibility for
integrated thinking. The signs of integrity not being practised include
polarized thinking, which for many business schools is expressed in the
gulf between research and teaching (Kaul and Smith 2012). Such a gulf is
often perpetuated by narrow senses of identity which cause staff members
to respond negatively to attempts to develop a more integrated culture;
 Epilogue: Integrity and the Business School 267

hence the critical importance of dialogue. Developing the culture will

include codes and procedures which can enable the development of dia-
logue and the practice of the key virtues.
A good example of a framework which brings together codes and pro-
cedure is the advisory framework of the CIHE (2005) document. This
brings together all the different stakeholders, around:
– teaching, learning and assessment
– research and development
– the student experience
– business and local communities
– leadership and governance
– management.
Perhaps the greatest benefit of this is the way that different aspects of
ethics can come together and be recognized as developing common ethi-
cal meaning. For instance, all of the stakeholder headings above involve
different perspectives on justice and respect, expressed in ethical codes,
staff and student regulations, laws, professional codes and so on. Critical
dialogue across these areas precisely helps to establish a shared identity
and purpose across the institution, guarding against non-thinking appli-
cation of codes (cf. Moore 2006). The CIHE framework is designed for
the whole university, but is equally relevant to the business school. In
effect, this provides a framework for developing a culture of integrity.
Third, business schools then need to provide evidence of the curricu-
lum reflecting integrity. The evidence from business schools, once more, is
of fragmentation and polarization (Kaul and Smith 2012). This includes
disciplinary fragmentation, with little sense of connection between dif-
ferent courses or even between modules within courses.
Developing the practice of integrity would require an underpinning
philosophy of learning, in relation to core purpose and values. Oakshott
(1962) for instance, argues that critical discourse is key to academic free-
dom. Ford (2003, 23) suggests that at the heart of collegiality is ‘intensive,
disciplined’ face to face conversation and debate between contemporaries
and across generations’. They are learned in a community of critical con-
versation (Oakshott 1962), one that enables the student to hear the many
voices, appreciate their difference and engage complexity. Barnett (1994)
268 Epilogue: Integrity and the Business School

argues that critical reflection is central, though not exclusive, to personal

growth. Higher education is in essence emancipatory and holistic. In
effect, it liberates the student from the narrow focus of the disciplines,
enabling reflective thinking which can critique the assumptions of the
discipline and look beyond to relations with other areas. Products of this
process are ‘self understanding and self empowerment’, enabling students
to ‘come into themselves’ (ibid.). This is higher-order thinking involving
the development of ‘analysis, evaluation, criticism and even imagination’
(ibid., 85).
Such a philosophy engages the core elements of integrity, dialogue
and owning narrative. It would then have to link to utility, for instance,
through developing a view of employability which reflects the practice
of integrity. Increasingly this integrative approach to learning is being
developed (cf. Dowson 2015, Robinson 2005). Central to this is making
explicit the connections between intellectual, moral and practical virtues,
and thus making the case for the utility of these virtues. This would make
reflective practice, enabling reflection on personal and professional devel-
opment, the centre of pedagogy, developing a pedagogical style which
focuses on the practice of responsibility and the virtues of learning.
I am arguing here that integrity is the key principle of integration
for the curriculum. There are three elements to this argument. First, as
defined, the practice of integrity involves the interactive development
of intellectual, psychological, moral and practical virtues and skills. The
moral virtues, as noted in Chapter 5, are equally important for success-
ful decision-making. Second, as noted in Chapters 7 and 8, this provides
a way of pulling together different sub-disciplines in business studies.
Strategy and enterprise relate directly to the practice of positive responsi-
bility and related virtues such as hope; the practice of accounting relates
directly to accountability. Third, integrity is focused on self-identity, dia-
logue and reflective practice. The focus on self-identity anchors learn-
ing in a significant way, not least because any account given involves
self-reflection. Focus on the development of tools and models precisely
avoids this engagement, leading ultimately to the kind of juvenile think-
ing found by Gill (2011). Dialogue and reflective practice involve the
practice of accountability and shared responsibility, demanding pedagogy
be focused precisely on the practice of these.
 Epilogue: Integrity and the Business School 269

Present practices reflect, rather, a lack of mutual accountability, with

one-way communication of data the priority (through PowerPoint and
the like), rather than enabling learning through giving account. Absent
from most of these practices is the experience of making a judgement,
and with that the exercise of the virtues, such as justice, courage and hon-
esty (all ascribed by MacIntyre [1990] to learning). The role of consumer
rather encourages the student to avoid the exercise of such virtues and
place responsibility for learning on the teacher.
Within higher education there is some resistance to what is taken to
be an aspect of morality (viewed as prescriptive) providing the princi-
ple of integration in the curriculum. However, as an argument this is as
much about a straw man as Gill’s junior accountants’ characterization of
morality. Integrity, as argued for, is not about imposing ethics, but about
empowering responsibility. Hence, any framework for the curriculum
would focus on those dynamics. The key issue is the absence of a frame-
work, or any account of such a framework.
But perhaps this is a lesson from integrity. The practice of the third
mode of responsibility demands not the imposition of a framework but
rather the development of shared responsibility and imagination to see
what is possible. I will provide two illustrations of how business schools
could begin to work with others to develop such positive responsibility.
First, in developing integrated curricula, business schools could work
with students, including the National Union of Students. In a sense it is
they who are making the running. A student survey commissioned by the
Higher Education Academy, UK, and the National Union of Students
(Drayson et al. 2014) found that 80 per cent of students believe that sus-
tainable development should be actively promoted and incorporated by
UK universities in the curriculum. This finding has been confirmed over
several years and also suggests that the belief is strengthened as students’
progress through their studies. A second significant finding is that stu-
dents feel that developing attitudes and skills related to sustainability is
important to their employability. Remarkably, respondents also showed a
desire for roles that would positively influence social and environmental
change, and just over half of respondents said they would be willing to
make a salary sacrifice of £3,000 to work in such a role. A third aspect
of the survey is the way it connects the different cognate concepts with a
270 Epilogue: Integrity and the Business School

wide definition of sustainability attitudes and skills, including CSR and

business ethics.
There are two important things to underline from this survey. First,
there is evidence that students do not buy into the narrow positivistic
approaches of much business studies. They have different perspectives
on worth. Second, the survey suggests that students are prepared to
take responsibility for developing these ideas. This runs contrary to the
received model of students as customers. Academic staff, then, can work
with students to develop integrated curricula which are co-created. Such
co-creation involves the practice of integrity.
A second example of shared responsibility is in working with busi-
ness. There is some evidence that business is not working as closely as it
once did with business schools (cf. Cannon 2015). Doubtless there are
many different reasons for that, including questions about loss of trust
post-credit crisis and competition from non-university organizations for
research and training. However, there seems in general to be a lack of
mutual dialogue around core purpose between the business school/uni-
versity and business. Perhaps more importantly, there is a limited dia-
logue around how professional development and personal development
can be addressed in such a way that students can be empowered to take
responsibility for their thinking and practice. Simply to say that CSR (cf.
James 2009) is increasingly taught fails to meet this point. To develop this
demands sustained dialogue between business and business schools. And
possibly the place to begin is in dialogue about the meaning and practice
of integrity, which business leaders placed third in the list of attributes
they wanted from graduates (Archer and Davidson 2008).

Conclusion
There are two broad conclusions to this epilogue. The first is that the
practice of integrity in business schools will require dialogic engagement
with all stakeholders to build bridges between thinking, meaning and
practice. Business schools are no different from any other institution. The
second conclusion is that integrity can be learned. The usual objection to
such a statement makes two false assumptions. The first is that it assumes
 Epilogue: Integrity and the Business School 271

that learning means didactic teaching. In this book I have argued that
learning which bridges meaning and practice is essentially dialogic and
focused on reflective practice. The second is to assume that integrity is a
discrete virtue which is more gifted than developed. However, as Aristotle
suggests, the virtues are learned through practice, and in this book I have
argued that integrity is developed through the practice of responsibility.

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 Index

A Airaksinen, Timo, 38, 73, 74, 136

Abramov, Igor, 198 Alcoholics Anonymous, 138
Accountability, 63–93, 128, 132, Alcohol industry, 81, 182
137, 145, 147, 155 Alternative dispute resolution
mutual, 64, 70–3, 75, 81, 86, (ADR), 178, 200
87, 90 Alētheia. See Truthfulness
plural, 73–5, 81, 84 Ambiguity, 87, 89, 92, 151,
Accountancy, 248–50, 253 156, 204
Advertising Standards Agency (ASA), American Methodist Task Force,
119, 182 102, 111
Aesthetic, 207 Amnesty International, 197
Agape, 146, 147, 150 Andersen, Arthur, 5–7, 141, 147,
and mutuality, 147 237, 238, 244
Agency, 31–57 Andriopoulos, Constantine, 209
Agency theory, 160, 162, 164–6 Annual General Meeting (AGM),
critique of, 176, 181 164, 171, 178, 180, 184
relation to leadership theory, 164 Anxiety, 38
underlying assumptions, 168, 175 Aquinas, T., 142, 145
Agincourt, 63, 87–9 Archer, Will, 1, 270
Agle, Bradley, 234 Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, 246
AIG, 35, 42 Arendt, Hannah, 108

© The Author(s) 2016 273

S. Robinson, The Practice of Integrity in Business,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-51553-7
274 Index

Argyris, Chris, 46, 67, 185, 243 Bevan, David, 187

Aristotle, 4, 15, 23, 24, 27, 49, 128, Bice, Sara, 175
133, 134, 136–8, 140, 144, Bies, Robert, 212, 253
153, 237, 240, 241 Birnbacher, Dieter, 107
Armstrong, James, 2 Bishara, Norman, 198
Arête, Biss, Mavis, 202, 203, 205
As You Like It, 206 Black, William, 41
Audire, 186 Bloom, Matt, 170
Audi, Robert, 2, 3, 21, 22, 151, 152 Board, 160, 161, 163–6, 168, 171,
Audit, 180, 185, 186 172, 177–85, 187
Augsburger, David, 143 Boltanksi, Luc, 38, 39
Autonomy, 175, 182 Bonuses. See Remuneration
Borrie, Gordon, 183, 184
Boseley, Sarah, 70
B Bosman, Philip, 4, 243
Babbit, Susan, 202 Bosson, Jenifer, 252
Baier, Annette, 235 Brabeck-Letmathe, Peter, 120
Baker, Judith, 238 Brent Spar Oil Platform, 56
Bakhtin, Mikhel, 48, 49, 88, 144 Bridges, William, 45, 236
Banking, Parliamentary Commission British Petroleum (BP), 246–8
on, 36 Brooks, Richard, 250
Barcelona FC, 186 Brown, Marvin, 85, 86, 91, 110
Barnett, Ronald, 267 Browne, John, 247
Barrett, F.J., 85 Browning, Don, 74
Bartunek, Jean, 212, 253 In Bruges, 9
Bauman, David, 19–21 Bucholtz, A., 164
Bauman, Zygmunt, 54, 67, 71, 113, Burke, Peter, 21, 38
202, 251 Burkitt, Ian, 22, 44, 45
Beauchamp, Tom, 19, 36, 136 Burleigh, Michael, 9, 26
Bebbington, David, 263 Burns, Robert, 144
Beebe, John, 12 Business, purpose, 78–81
Bellamy, Carol, 103 Business schools, 261–71
Beneficence, 79 and integrity, 261–71
Benevolence, 235, 237, 238, 256
eunoia, 238
Benhabib, Seyla, 50 C
Bennet, Nathan, 87 Cadburys, 223
Bennis, Warren, 265 Caldecote, Robin, 162
Berlin, Isaiah, 36, 79, 80, 104, 113 Calhoun, Cheshire, 9, 11–13, 27, 46
 Index 275

California Transparency in Supply Conflict, 194, 195, 198–201, 203–5,

Chains Act, 217 209–11, 214, 222
Callender, John, 52 Conflict Resolution. See Alternative
Campbell, Alastair, 136, 146 dispute resolution (ADR)
Cannon, Tom, 261, 270 Conger, Jay, 167
Cantor, Paul, 44 Congress, 32
Capps, Donald, 44 Conseco, 35
Carroll, Archie, 35, 41, 42 Consultative Business Movement,
Catalonia, 186 South Africa, 211
Chamber of Commerce, 211 Cooper-White, Pamela, 50
Chartered Institute of Personnel and Corfino, Jo, 120
Development (CIPD), 84 Corporate Social Responsibility
Childress, James, 136 (CSR), 270
Chinese walls, 251 Corruption, 229–56
Chronos, 138 Cottingham, John, 3, 4, 9, 10, 44,
Civil society, 211, 212 46, 52, 53
Codes, 168, 172, 177, 181–5, 187 Council for Industry and Higher
aspirational, 84 Education (CIHE), 265–7
of conduct for suppliers, 220–2 Ethics Matters in Higher
corporate, 163 Education, 266
of ethics, 181–3 Council, Norman, 88
professional, 182 Counterfeit integrity, 229–56
Cohen, Stanley, 26, 38, 55 Courage, 134, 136–8, 153, 155
Cohen, Stephen, 248 and Plato, 137
Colledge, Barbara, 236, 240 Covaleskie, John, 27, 52
Communication, 66, 70, 71, 74, Cowan, John, 36
84–6 Cox, Damian, 25, 85, 154, 246
cosmopolitan, 86 Crane, Andrew, 116
ethnocentric, 85 Creativity, 147, 150, 201, 202,
modernistic, 86 207–9, 212
monocultural, 85 Credibility, 150
Compartmentalization, 187 Credit crisis, 66, 76, 138,
Compensation, 161–4, 166, 168–70, 165, 177
176 Crispianus, 89
philosophy, 169–71 Crispin, Saint, 88–91
Complexity, 76, 79, 81, 82, 85, 87, speech, 88–91
92, 93 Cropanzano, Russell, 170
Computer games, 129, 130, 132, Cruver, Brian, 69
133, 135, 136, 141, 147 Cult, 69, 70
276 Index

Culture, 170–2, 174, 177, 179, engaging, 86–7

181–3, 185–8 rehearsed, 91–2
anchoring, 159–88 and social media, 185
development, 185 unrehearsed, 91–2
ethical, 171, 172, 185–7 Dickens, Charles, 130, 256
institutionalization, 172, 181–4 Dietz, Graham, 231, 234, 235, 237
of integrity, 171–2, 177 Dissociative identity disorder, 76
orientation, 180 Dixon, Ross, 81, 108
sustaining, 172, 184–7 Dowson, Paul, 268
values, 175–6 Drayson, Rachel, 269
vision, 172–5 Dreams, 173, 174
Curzer, Howard, 3, 23, 24, 128 and responsibility, 174
Customers, 176
Cyprus, 210
E
Ecclesiastes, 138
D Ecumenical Council for Corporate
Dalik, A., 169 Responsibility (ECCR),
D’Amore, Louis, 212 197, 199
Davidson, Jess, 270 Edelman’s Trust Barometer, 230
Davion, Victoria, 10 Edgar, Andrew, 55, 184
de Beauvoir, Simone, 87, 151 Ekanayake, Samson, 162
De Bettigbies, Henri Claude, 253, Eliot, Thomas, 171, 207, 262
254 Emerson, Caryl, 49
de Sousa, Ronald, 238 Empathy, 137, 143–7, 153, 155
De Woot, Philippe, 255 Enron, 66, 67, 69, 70, 172, 177,
Dearing, Ronald, 263 237, 238, 244, 245
Deepwater Horizon, 246, 247 Entine, Jon, 56
Deliberation, 11, 12, 36, 123, 180, Epimetheus, 255
201, 202 Episteme, 140
Deloitte, 250 Epley, Nicholas, 143
Denn, Guy, 183, 184 Erhard, Werner, 16, 18
Deontological theory, 22 Erikson, Erik, 44, 45
Detachment, 67 life stages theory, 44–5
Dialogue, 128–30, 132, 134, 141, Erol, Mustafa, 53, 205
142, 144, 148, 154–6, Eros, 147, 149–50
162–6, 168–76, 178, Ethical Tea Partnership, 221
180–8 Ethical Trading Initiative, 221
and complexity, 64 Ethos, 238
 Index 277

Eutrapelia, 144 Freeman, Mark, 47, 48, 207

Evans, G., 169 Frey, Bruno, 187, 239
Extractive industries, 175 Friedman, L., 45
Extractive Industries Transparency Friedman, Milton, 78–80
Initiative, 175 Frynas, Jedrzej, 195
Furnham, Adrian, 77

F
Fairtrade, 221 G
Faith, 137, 147, 150–1 Garrow, David, 173
Falstaff, 88, 90 Geiser, Thorsten, 49, 223
Fawkes, Joanna, 12, 46, 53 Gentile, Mary, 64, 187
Federal Sentencing Ghoshal, Sumantra, 265
Guidelines, 200 Gibbs, Graham, 40, 46
Festinger, Leon, 54 Giddens, Anthony, 46
Fidelity, 146, 147 Gillespie, Nicole, 231, 234, 235, 237
trust and faith, 150–1 Gilligan, Carol, 202
Financial Reporting Council (FRC), Gill, Matthew, 250, 251, 268
249 Godlovitch, Stan, 22
Finch, Janet, 111 Goldman Sachs, 35
Fixation, 67, 72 Goleman, Daniel, 38
Flavell, John, 128, 152 Good, 130, 133–42, 147, 148, 152,
Fleischacker, Samuel, 53 153
Florman, Samuel, 150 common, 135
Ford, David, 39, 212, 267 institutional, 135, 136
Forrest, Andrew, 215, 217, 218 Goodpaster, Kenneth, 66–7, 172
Forster, Edward Morgan, 86 Goodwin, Doris, 142
Fort, Timothy, 198, 200, 210–12, Goodwin, Fred, 36, 165
253 Gorsky, Alex, 83, 84
Fowler, James, 150 Governance, 65, 73, 91, 93, 139,
Francis Report (2010), 65 156
Francis Report (2013), 65, 68, 71, breakdown, 76–8
231, 244 Government, 67, 69, 70, 72, 79–81,
Frankfurt, Harry, 7, 8 85
Freedom, 161, 163–4, 173, 174 Grace, Damian, 248
disinterested, 163–4 Greenberg, Jerald, 170
moral, 113 Greenblatt, Stephen, 44
negative, 113 Greenspan, Alan, 32–4, 41, 55, 56
positive, 113 Green Tree Finance, 35, 42
278 Index

Gregory, Anne, 180 Human Rights, 194–8, 213–16,

Griffiths, Lord, 161, 162, 168, 169 218–23
Group of Seven, Northern Ireland, Humility, 139–40, 145, 155
211
Guilt, 154
I
Idemudia, Uwafiokun, 196
H Identity, 161, 169, 171–6, 181–4,
Habermas, Jurgen, 89 186, 187
Halfon, Mark, 10, 13 and agency, 44–51
Halligan, Peter, 76 and dialogue, 50–2
Hamlet, 44, 144 moral, 34, 43, 57
Harle, Timothy, 138 and the self, 48–50
Harris, Jared, 21, 169 and struggle, 53–6
Haski-Leventhal, Debbie, 201 Ikhlas, 4
Hawkins, Donald, 212 Illich, Ivan, 74
HBOS, 177, 178 Infant Formula Audit
Heifetz, Ronald, 92, 209 Commission, 102
Hennchen, Esther, 198 Institute of Chartered Accountants
Henry IV Pt 1, 88 in England and Wales
Henry IV Pt 2, 88–90 (ICAEW), 1, 13, 81, 82
Henry V, 64, 87–90, 92, 203, 208 Integrity
Hermans, Hubert, 49, 50, 223 and confusion, 248–52
Higginson, Richard, 133 consistency, 4, 8, 14, 19, 21, 25
Higher Education Academy (HEA), as epistemic virtue, 152, 153
269 fairness, 13–15, 21
Hilti, 220–1 honesty, 4, 14, 19–24
Hinrich, Kim, 55 and identity, 8–9
HM Revenue and Customs, and justice, 160–3, 168–71
Homo economicus, 165 moral purpose, 13–15
Hope, 136, 137, 147–50, 155 and obfuscation, 250, 251
and agency, 148 procedural, 112–14
goals, 148 self-integration, 7–9
ground of, 149 standing for something, 11–12
pathways, 148 Interagency group on Breastfeeding
realistic, 149 Monitoring (IGBM), 103
Hopefulness, 148, 149 International Labour Organization
Hotspur, 88 (ILO), 215, 221
 Index 279

International Monetary Fund K

(IMF), 42 Kairos, 138
Ite, Uwem, 194, 196 Kaldor, Mary, 120
Kant, Immanuel,
Kaptein, Muel, 182, 183
J Kaufman, Gershen, 237
Jamali, Dima, 198 Kaul, Mishanka, 265–7
James, Adam, 270 Keats, John, 151
Jelliffe, Douglas, 99, 100 Kekes, John, 23
Jenkins, Daniel, 263 Kennedy, Edward, 106, 109
Jenkins, David, 263 Kenyon, Alexandra, 75, 81
Jensen, Michael, 16, 18 Khurana, Rakesh, 166, 167,
Jihad, 52, 53, 205 253, 265
greater, 52, 205 King III Report, 171, 178, 200
Johnson, Daniel, 231 King Lear, 144
Johnson and Johnson, 82 King, Martin Luther, 173
Code of business conduct, 84 Kipling, Rudyard, 186
Credo, 82 Kisteller, Jean, 152
Jonas, Hans, 107, 108 Kline, John, 195
Jung, Carl, 53 Koehn, Daryl, 147, 202
shadow side, 53 Koerber, Charles, 198, 210, 211
Justice, 104, 108, 114–15, 123, 124, Kohlberg, Lawrence, 49, 202
160–3, 168–71, 176, 188, Kohut, Heinz, 240
198–200, 206 Kolb, Robert, 167
distributive, 168, 199 Kolk, Ans, 212
environmental, 199 Korsgaard, Christine, 34, 52
as fairness, 13, 21, 161, Kurcuran, Ahmet, 205
170, 176
global, 249
libertarian, 161 L
and merit, 163, 168, 169 Laidlaw, James, 135
organizational, 170, 176 Lambourne, William, 199
procedural, 169–71 Lanchester, John, 2, 35, 42
restitutive, 199 Large, David, 256
restorative, 199 Leadership, 64, 65, 68, 69, 71, 72,
retributive, 168, 199 77, 78, 84, 87, 88, 91–3,
social, 199 161, 162, 167–9, 172, 174,
as a virtue, 145–6 178–81
280 Index

Leadership (cont.) Maitland, Ian, 187, 239

charismatic, 165, 167 Marketing Week, 119
and dialogue, 64 Markham, Ian, 38
formal leadership integrity, 19 Marlatt, G. Alan, 152
market, 167–8 Marley, Jacob, 256
personal leadership integrity, 19 Martin, Iain, 36, 138, 165
substantive leadership integrity, Mason, Mark, 25, 27, 34, 46, 116
19, 20 May, Larry, 108
Learning, 176 McCarthy, Cormac, 3
circle, 186 McFall, Lynne, 9, 25, 26, 52
organization, 181 McGeer, Victoria, 239
Lebow, Richard, 50 Mckenna, Bernard, 76
Lederach, John Paul, 113, 123, 145, McKenny, Gerald, 34
184, 203–9 Megone, Christopher, 263
and the moral imagination, 201–9 Memoria, 142
and paradoxical thinking, 205–7 Merrill, 35, 41
and web watching, 205 Metacognition, 128, 152
Lee, Simon, 22 Michel, Thomas, 4
Lemoine, G. James, 87 Mid Staffs Hospital Trust, 64–5
Lepineux, Francois, 253, 254 Milgram, Stanley, 54, 182
Lester, Andrew, 149 Miller, William, 134
Levinas, Emmanuel, 107, 108, 202 Mirshak, Ramez, 198
Levy, Stuart, 212 Mitchell, George, 204
Lewis, Marianne, 209 Mitchell, Ronald, 118, 234
Lincoln, Abraham, 142, 174 Moberly, 262
Lincoln Memorial, 174 Modern slavery, 194, 215–16, 218,
Lobbying, 210, 212 222, 223
for good, 212 Monaghan, Paul, 212
L’Oreal, 185 Moodley, Chris, 81, 108
Löscher, Peter, 232 Moody-Stuart, Mark, 195
Lovelock, James, 108 Moore, Geoff, 156, 187, 267
LTCM, 42 Moral imagination, 193–223
Luft, Joseph, 45 and deliberation, 201, 202, 204,
212
and perception, 202, 204, 205
M radical, 202
MacIntyre, Alasdair, 6, 134–6, 143, Moral possibilities, 202–3
171, 187, 264, 269 More, Thomas, 19–21
Mackenzie, Catriona, 239 Morgan, Jamie, 236, 240
 Index 281

Moriarty, Jeffrey, 163 Nestle, 97–106, 109–12, 114, 115,

Motivation, 163, 166, 176 118–22, 241, 250
and autonomous New Internationalist, 100,
judgement, 166 104, 114
financial, 166 Newman, John Henry, 262
and mastery, 166 Newton, Lisa, 99
and purpose, 166 Nietzsche, Friedrich, 134
Movement for the Survival of the Niger Delta, 194–9, 210
Ogoni People (MOSOP), Niger Delta Development
195 Corporation, 198
MPs expenses scandal, 2 Nigerian National Petroleum
Mui, Chunka, 35, 41, 42 Corporation (NNPC), 194
Mullainathan, Sendhil, 16 Noelliste, Mirlenda, 52
Muller, Mike, 119 Nohria, Nitin, 166, 253
Murdoch, Iris, 134, 202 Non Governmental Organizations
Murphy, Patrick, 2, 3, 21, 22, 143, (NGOs), 196, 197, 212,
151, 152 217
Muskie, Edward, 102 Non-maleficence, 79
Muskie Commission, 102, 112, 113, Norman, Wayne, 171, 187
184, 208 Northern Ireland, 210, 211
Mustakova-Possardt, Elena, 43 Nous, 140
Nozick, Robert, 161, 168
Nursi, Said, 201
N Nussbaum, Martha, 11, 168, 202
Narcissism, 140, 145
Narrative, 32, 39, 44, 45, 47–53, 55,
57, 159, 164, 168, 171–7, O
181–8 Oakshott, Michael, 91, 267
authorship, 57 Oetzel, Jennifer, 198, 210, 211
and ethical responsibility, 57 Ogoni, 195, 197
identity, 47–8 Ogoni nine, 195
interpretation, 47 Olympism, 135
National Health Service, UK, 67 O’Neill, Onora, 86, 231
National Union of Students (NUS), Organization for Economic
269 Cooperation and
Nazi Olympics, 256 Development (OECD), 249
Negative capability, 150, 151, 155 O’Rourke, Ray, 215, 217, 218
Nelson, Katherine, 5, 64, 171 Osterloh, Margit, 187, 239
Nestle, Henri, 98, 120 O’Toole, James, 265
282 Index

Ou, Li, 151 Practical Wisdom, 136, 137, 140–3.

Outka, Gene, 146 See also Phronesis and
Oxfam, 220 Prudentia
Practice, 31–3, 35–7, 39–41, 43,
45–9, 52, 54–7
P reflective, 40, 46, 56
Paine, Lynn, 25, 27, 34, 69, 171, Preece, Christopher, 81, 108
244 Price, Terry, 168
Palanski, Michael, 19 Principles, 163, 173–6, 178, 179,
Parry, Jim, 135, 142, 212 182
Patience, 136, 138, 155 Prometheus, 255
Pattison, Stephen, 55, 144, 184 Prudentia, 142, 145
Peacebuilding, 135, 199, 200, Psychotherapy, 251
203–5, 208, 210–12 Public Accounts Committee, House
Peace dividend, 211 of Commons, 249
Pearce, W. Barnett, 85 Purpose, 32, 34, 36, 37, 39, 43, 44,
Penh, Borany, 198 54, 56
Perception, 128, 142, 143, 145, 202, Putnam, Robert,
204, 205, 207, 234, 236,
242
Pettit, Philip, 239 R
Pfarrer, Mike, 234 Raggatt, Peter, 49, 223
Phantom ticking, 251 Rainforest Alliance, 221
Philia, 150 Rand, Ayn, 36, 41
Phronesis, 140–3, 145, 155, Rationalization, 67, 70
175, 187 Rawls, John, 13, 21, 168, 170, 171,
dialogic, 142 242
Pianalto, Matthew, 10, 52, 53 Reconciliation, 178, 204, 205, 210
Pilkington, E., 197 Reeves, Marjorie, 262
Pink, Daniel, 166 Regulation, 72, 194, 213, 217, 220,
Political democracy, 170 221, 223
Politics, 210 Reid, H., 137, 139
Polman, Paul, 209 Remuneration, 159–61, 163, 164,
Polonius, 44 167–9, 177, 215. See also
Porter, Michael, 116 Justice
Portland Trust, 210 Reporting with Integrity, 1
Poverty, 194–5, 198, 201, 222 Resource curse, 194–5
Powell, G., 164 Respect, 136, 145–7, 149, 155, 176
 Index 283

Responsibility, 97–124 Rozuel, Cecile, 77, 187

agency, 31–5, 37, 40–3, 45, 47, Ruggie, John, 196, 198, 212, 213
51, 52, 54–7
attributability, 34
dialogue, 86–7, 112 S
and identity, 43–5, 115–16 Sacks, Jonathan, 91, 121
and image, 202 Sagacity, 206. See also Phronesis
individual, 174 Salts, 223
and justice, 98, 104, 114–15, 124 Saro-Wiwa, Ken, 195, 196
negotiated, 111–12, 117, 118 Schachter, Ellie, 45
and perception, 111 Scherkoske, Greg, 12, 152, 153
plural, 110 Schipani, Cindy, 198
positive, 109–16 Schizophrenia, 76
and power, 115 Schlegel, Rebecca, 44
proactive, 110 Schön, Donald, 40, 46
and procedural integrity, 113–14 Security, 197, 210
proximity, 115 Seddon, John, 72
restless, 113 Self, 8–10, 14, 15, 21, 23–7, 31–57
undetermined, 109 as another, 48
Rhetoric, 237, 241 dialogic, 48–50
ethos, 238 rewriting, 47
logos, 241 Sen, Amartya, 168
pathos, 241 Senge, Peter, 181, 186
Richard II, 88 Serendipity, 206
Ricoeur, Paul, 34, 41, 47, 48, 105, Shakespeare, William, 18, 44, 50,
107, 108, 203, 207, 209 144, 206
negative responsibility, 34 Shame, 38, 232, 237
positive responsibility, 41 Shaw, William, 167
Risk, 199, 204, 209, 215, 217, 247 Shell, 194–9, 208, 222
Rivera, Jorge, 198, 210, 211 Statement of General Business
Robinson, Simon, Principles, 196
Rodriguez-Lopez, Antonio, 140 Shell Petroleum Development
Roman Catholic Church, 244, 245 Company (SPDC), 194,
Rooney, David, 76 196, 197
Rosen, David, 12 Sidorkin, Alexander, 48, 88
Rousseau, Denise, 170 Siemens, 105, 154, 231–4, 237, 239,
Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 191 241, 242
Royal Bank of Scotland (RBS), 138 compliance organization, 233
284 Index

Simons, Tony, 19 Taylor, James, 166

Simpson, Jeffrey, 236 Taylors of Harrogate, 221
Singer, Peter, 115, 254 ethical trading policy, 221
Slippery slope argument, 168 Techne, 140
Smail, David, 25 Teleopathy, 67, 71, 72
Smith, Jonathan, 18, 19, 165, 265–7 Temperance, 137, 139, 155
Smith, Wendy, 212 Tench, Ralph, 235, 240
Snyder, C. Richard, 148 Tett, Gillian, 35
Solertia, 142 Thaler, Richard, 16
Solomon, Robert, 2, 12, 15, 21, 23, The Inside Job, 76
38, 127, 154, 165 The Old Curiosity Shop, 130
Sonnenfield, Jeffrey, 177 Thévenot, Laurent, 38, 39
Sophia, 140 Third Reich, 67
South Africa, 178, 210, 211 Thompson, Michael, 187
South Caucasus, 210 Three Princes of Serendip, 206
Spirituality, 43 Tillich, Paul, 150
Spohn, William, 111 Toffler, Barbara, 5, 238, 244
Srivasta, S., 85 Total Integrity Management, 194,
Sternberg, Elaine, 78, 80, 82, 83 200–1
Stets, Jan, 21, 38 Transition, 236, 237
Stiglitz, Joseph, 254 disenchantment, 236
Stoljar, Natalie, 239 disengagement, 26
Strong, Michael, 198 disidentification, 236
Sufism, 203 Transparency, 163, 178, 179
Supply chain, 194, 214–18, 221, Transparency International, 243
223 Trevino, Linda, 5, 64, 171
Sustainability, 269, 270 Trust, 150–1, 155, 197, 198, 200,
Swann, William, 252 201, 204, 209–11, 229–56
Sweetman, Derek, 198, 212 diagnosis, 236
Swinton. John, 143 good, 200, 201
Symbols, 186–7 hard, 200, 201
and integrity, 229–56
real, 200, 201
T reintegration model, 234
Tangney, June, 139, 140 restoring, 231–3
Tawney, Richard W., 80, 141, 263 Truth, 69–72, 75, 92, 93
Taylor, Charles, 34, 37, 43, 44, 47, true to others, 63–93
51, 52, 205 true to self, 31–57
 Index 285

Truthfulness, 15, 23–5 V

Twelfth Night, 206 Value clarification, 175
Values, 159, 161, 165, 169–76,
178–82, 186
U Van der Ven, Johannes, 48
Ubuntu, 36 Van Tulder, Rob, 212
UK Chartered Institute for Public Veracity, 146
Relations (UKCIPR), 84 Vera, Dusya, 140
UK Corporate Governance Code, Verducci, Susan, 143
163 Verhezen, Peter, 187, 244
UK Modern Slavery Act 2015, Vietnam, 220
215–18, 220 Virtue ethics theory, 134–6
critique, 219 Virtues, 127–56
Uncertainty, 87, 88, 92 intellectual, 140, 143, 155
UN Guidelines on Business and and the mean, 133
Human Rights, 198 moral, 133, 140, 152, 153
protect, 213 relation to responsibility, 133
remedy, 213 Vocation, 204, 207–9
respect, 213 Volatility, 87, 88, 92
UNICEF, 186 VUCA, 87, 92
Unilever, 183, 209, 218–20 VW, 153
Code of Business Principles, 219
Human Rights Report 2015, 218
Sustainable Living Plan (USLP), W
219 Walpole, Horace, 206
Sustainable Living Plan Council, Walsh, D., 244
219 Warnock, Mary, 262
Sustainable Sourcing Steering Wealth creation, 162, 166
Group, 219 Welbourn, David, 209
Universities. See also Higher Werhane, Patricia, 201, 202
Education Westermann-Behaylo, Michelle, 198,
Cambridge, 262 210, 211
Oxford, 262 Western, Simon, 19, 20, 180, 181,
US Declaration of Independence, 265
173 Whistleblowing, 183–4
US Public Relations Society (PRSA), Williams, Bernard, 8, 9
84 Williams, Rowan, 37
Utilitarianism, 134 Willis, Paul, 180
286 Index

Wolf, Susan, 4, 15 Y
Wood, Donna, 118, 234 Yammarino, Francis, 19
World Bank, 233, 239, 254 Yeats, William Butler, 174
World Health Organization Young, M., 164
(WHO), 101–3, 105,
111, 112, 118, 119,
182, 208 Z
marketing code, 182 Zald, Mayer, 212, 253
Worth, 32, 34, 37–9, 52, 57 Zwischenmenschliche, 91