
Success has a way of making headlines. Character leaves a much longer impression.
While vacationing one year in Palm Desert, Sue and I drove through nearby Indian Wells, California. Palm-lined boulevards wound past immaculate neighborhoods, private golf clubs and elegant homes tucked behind discreet gates.
But as we drove, my thoughts were somewhere else.
I was remembering a CEO I had counseled years earlier—and the people who had helped make him wealthy.
In the 1980s, I served as public relations counselor to a Dallas software company acquired by a global technology firm for the then-astonishing sum of $800 million. The company’s CEO was a former GE planner who had trained under Jack Welch. Disciplined, analytical and intensely focused, he listened carefully, spoke precisely and projected complete confidence.
Then came the acquisition announcement.
Just minutes before he was scheduled to address hundreds of employees, he pulled me aside. What everyone expected to be a celebration carried a devastating condition: Every employee would be terminated and required to reapply for a job.
I had only a few minutes to consider what was about to unfold.
The decision may not have been his alone. But he would stand before the people whose work had helped make the acquisition possible and tell them that their own futures were uncertain.
The room unraveled almost immediately.
Employees cried out. Some wept. Others walked out as angry accusations filled the room. In a matter of minutes, anticipation gave way to confusion, fear and betrayal.
The news coverage was devastating. Yet it could scarcely convey what it felt like to watch that relationship between a leader and his employees come apart.
The CEO departed with nearly $30 million. Later, he built a home in Indian Wells.
Driving through that beautiful community years afterward, I wondered what had become of the employees. I also thought about how much of their anguish had been predictable—and how much might have been avoided if their lives and livelihoods had received greater consideration before the announcement.
The transaction had created extraordinary wealth. It had also revealed how little protection years of contribution could offer the people who helped create it.
That experience stayed with me. So did another, at a global bank.
Leaders responsible for risk, compliance and corporate communications invited us to examine concerns that frontline employees were opening customer accounts without authorization. We began by interviewing several executives who were troubled by what they knew.
After presenting our findings, we recommended broadening the interviews to include frontline employees.
At that point, the project was terminated.
What stayed with me was the timing. We had heard enough to know we needed to learn more. The inquiry stopped precisely when it needed to go deeper.
The crisis intensified when Congress called the CEO to testify. Questions the bank could have explored within its own walls were now being asked in public. The CEO later stepped down.
I have thought often about that lost opportunity. Someone inside the organization had recognized a problem. Others were willing to discuss it. There was an opening to listen, understand and act.
Then it closed.
Organizations have remarkably few secrets. More often, they have information that leaders have stopped asking for—or people have stopped believing it is safe to share.
I once worked with another CEO whose response to uncertainty was very different.
Our assignment involved employee engagement at one of the world’s leading energy companies in Houston. Over time, I came to know the CEO of its exploration and production division.
One morning, I accompanied him to a meeting with his senior leadership team. For nearly an hour, I watched him listen, ask probing questions and challenge assumptions without diminishing the people offering them. He was thoughtful and decisive. Nothing about his leadership seemed theatrical.
Afterward, he asked me to walk back to his office.
Employees stopped us along the way. Some discussed projects. Others asked about his family or shared something happening in their own lives. He knew their names and seemed comfortable in their company. The exchanges were easy and familiar.
If I had known nothing else about the organization, I would have concluded that I was walking beside a deeply respected leader.
Inside his office, he closed the door and invited me to sit. For a moment, he was quiet.
“You’ve spent time with our people,” he said. “You’ve walked the halls. You’ve been in our meetings. You’ve gotten a feel for our culture.”
I nodded.
“I’ve spent my entire career here. Forty years. I love this company.”
He paused.
“But I’ve come to believe something.”
Then he said it.
“People don’t trust me anymore.”
I sat quietly. Everything I had observed suggested otherwise.
The company was undergoing significant change. Familiar routines were disappearing. Expectations were shifting. Employees wondered where they fit in the future taking shape around them.
He had interpreted their uncertainty as a judgment about his leadership.
What I heard from employees was different. They respected him. They believed he was taking the company in the right direction. They also had questions he needed to keep answering.
During periods of change, questions can be an expression of trust. People ask because they believe someone will listen and give them an honest answer.
I shared what I had heard. His employees needed him to continue explaining the changes, listening to their concerns and helping them understand what lay ahead.
He did.
In the years that followed, he led one of the most successful transformations in the company’s history.
Looking back, what stays with me is his willingness to question himself. After forty years, he still cared enough to consider whether he was failing the people he led—and to ask someone who might tell him so.
Enduring Truth: Trust is built through accountability over time.
These experiences taught me to pay attention to what happens when leaders encounter uncomfortable information.
One announced a transaction whose human consequences had received too little consideration. At another organization, an inquiry ended when the questions needed to become more searching. In Houston, a leader invited an assessment he feared might be painful.
Those moments mattered because they shaped what could happen next.
Leaders become insulated gradually. Honest disagreement fades. Bad news travels more slowly. People learn which concerns are welcome and which are better left unspoken. Eventually, the view from the executive office bears little resemblance to life elsewhere in the organization.
The strongest leaders I have known work to keep that distance from growing. They invite difficult conversations and take responsibility for what they learn. They understand that yesterday’s trust does not relieve them of today’s obligations.
When I think of Indian Wells, I remember employees whose celebration became a moment of fear.
When I think of the bank, I remember questions that could have been asked sooner.
And when I think of Houston, I remember a leader who closed his office door and voiced a concern many others might have kept to themselves.
“People don’t trust me anymore.”
He was mistaken.
But his willingness to ask helped me understand why they did.
What Does It All Mean?
Decades after the rise of the strategic counselor in public relations and the evolution of the corporate manager as a more enlightened leader, we still experience reputational gaffes inside great companies. Decisions made at the top can drastically affect employees and public perception and even put an organization into a crisis mode.
Finding truth – it’s a simple thing, really. It starts with listening to your employees, speaking from the heart, considering the effects of potential decisions, studying the implications of certain transactions, and mapping out key stakeholder needs to understand how they may act or react to actions we take. As Jeff Bezos of Amazon once said during the heat of a crisis, you always remember that “Our reputation is what people say about us when we’re not in the same room.”
Here are my key takeaways from these examples:
- Leadership Decisions Shape Company Culture and Public Perception: Critical decisions at the executive level can profoundly affect employee morale and influence how the public perceives the company.
- Ethical Leadership is Fundamental: A leader's personal integrity and ethical conduct are essential in maintaining trust and respect within the organization, which in turn affects overall performance.
- Employee Welfare is Crucial to Organizational Health: Neglecting employee concerns or imposing harsh conditions can lead to a toxic workplace environment and significant reputational damage.
- Facing Reality is Key in Leadership: Leaders must confront and address the true state of their organization, avoiding the temptation to ignore or gloss over challenging issues.
- Listening to Employees Enhances Decision-Making: Proactively engaging with and listening to employees can prevent many internal issues and improve decision-making processes.
- Reputation Management Has Long-Lasting Effects: A company's actions, especially those of its leaders, significantly influence its reputation, which is a crucial asset in the long term.
- The Importance of Strategic Counseling in Leadership: Strategic counselors play a vital role in identifying risks, guiding leaders towards better practices, and helping navigate complex corporate governance issues.
These takeaways emphasize the importance of ethical, reality-based leadership and the power of active employee engagement in building a positive and sustainable corporate culture.