Building blocks – Page 3 – Escondido Framework

What happens to organisational “dark matter” when everything moves on-line?

Much of my working life moved on-line when Covid-19 hit. From time to time, I still go into the office although it feels as though a neutron bomb has hit: the building is there, but it is largely empty and most of those normally there are working from home. All the meetings that were conducted face to face before mid March now take place on video conferencing platforms (although half the time my colleagues have cameras switched off or their on-screen presence has frozen). Research appears to suggests that the productivity of most of the people now working remotely is higher than before. I miss my commute because it provided a welcome opportunity for exercise and included a delightful bike ride along the Grand Union Canal, but I am sure that I am in a small minority.

I miss the serendipitous conversations that take place in the corridor, making coffee, in the margins of formal meetings, and in the course of visits that I make as chairman to the front-line units and staff of my organisation. I have recruited a couple of new colleagues during the Covid-19 lockdown and we have had to manage their induction remotely, which clearly has its drawbacks. But other than these examples, I don’t get the feeling that the way that we do business has suffered much so far. However, is this sustainable?

David Robson has written an article in New Scientist[1], suggesting that “the coronavirus pandemic may be dismantling your social network without your realising it”. This echoes a concern of mine that the way most of us, and most organisations, have coped through the changes enforced Covid-19 has been only been possible as a result of the accumulated investment in relationships built up face-to-face. My board know each other well, know how to interpret each other’s contributions, will make allowances for each other and can generally anticipate how others will react to what they have to say. This has helped carry us through the past five months and will continue to assist through the next few months as, we all hope, we emerge from the crisis. This will apply to all sorts of established relationships around any organisation, will underpin day to day conversations and routine business, and will inform the diplomacy and political manoeuvring around the more tricky transactions. Assets on our balance sheet are liable to decay and, in our accounts for our business, we apply depreciation to them to reflect this. The intangible assets that are our social capital and which have carried us through new pattern of remote working are no different.

Robson’s article led me to a New York Times interview with Satya Nadella (personally heavily invested in video-conferencing, and consequently other people’s remote working, as CEO of the organisation that owns MS Teams and Skype). “Mr. Nadella said that raw productivity stats for many of Microsoft’s workers have gone up, but that isn’t something to ‘overcelebrate.’ More meetings start and end on time, but ‘what I miss is when you walk into a physical meeting, you are talking to the person that is next to you, you’re able to connect with them for the two minutes before and after.’ That’s tough to replicate virtually, as are other soft skills crucial to managing and mentoring.”[2]

Robson continues his article by summarising a wide range of research around social contact, and highlighting its value to us in terms of mental wellbeing and importance dimensions such as trust. In a sidebar to his main article, he quotes Peter Drucker writing in 1993 “It is now infinitely easier, cheaper and faster to do what the 19^th century could not do: move information, and with it office work, to where the people are. The tools to do so are already here: the telephone, two-way video, electronic mail, the fax machine, the personal computer, the modem, and so on.” Robson notes that it has taken the pandemic for people to realise that they can work with less face time and discusses why it has taken a crisis to realise the potential for more people to work remotely. But while he concludes that “the relative success of new ways of working in the pandemic would certainly suggest that we can get by with less face time” he acknowledges that it would be unwise to scrap it entirely.

I worked remotely for much of the 1990s (with a dial up modem and Compuserve email address that consisted of numbers alone). Consequently, the revelations about the productivity of people working from home come as no surprise. However, I was working as a consultant and on private equity projects at the time. The work from home was interspersed with face to face activity with clients, selling projects and ideas, negotiating deals and persuading investors to back me. I was operating on my own or in small teams rather than a large organisation that was creating a greater value than could be achieved by a series of discrete market transactions and with the benefit of what I have described elsewhere as organisational “Dark Matter”. Having moved in and out of varied working arrangements and organisations differing in size over the past forty years, I know the importance of face to face contact in building relationships that are strong enough to be effectively maintained at a distance.

The large, global consultancy firm where I worked in the early 1980s employed a variety of devices to build relationships within the local office and the world-wide firm: consultants were expected to return to the office on a Friday to lunch together and receive a short presentation about a colleague’s project and piece of training; at each stage in your career development you attended residential courses with your peer group; practice groups would hold regional conferences to share learning; and the international partner group would meet for an annual conference. All this contributed to building a shared set of values, common approaches to solving client problems, and the ability to work remotely while remaining part of the firm.

It is important to recognise the corollary of Robson’s thesis: with remote working there is a risk that the quality of relationships will decay over time, particularly if the context in which the relationships were developed changes, if you don’t make this sort of investment. The “new normal” may involve much more remote working, but organisations need to recognise that the success of this approach over the past five months has been made possible by years of investment in social capital by having people working together previously. They will need to invest in “maintenance social capital” by getting people to getting people together sufficiently frequently to address the depreciation in this asset if they want to continue remote working in the longer term.

[1] New Scientist, 20th August 2020, pp32-36. “Missed Connections”

[2] New York Times, Dealbook Newsletter, 14^th May 2020

Moody’s says Lloyds’ ethnic diversity plan is ‘credit positive’

The Financial Times reports today that Lloyds Banking Group’s plans for promoting more black employees have been described by Moody’s as “credit positive”, the first time that a credit agency has explicitly linked a company’s stability to ethnic diversity measures. Moody’s has not gone as far as to upgrade Lloyd’s credit rating at this point, but it clearly indicates that Lloyds’ plans are “credit positive [implying that they have the potential to reduce the company’s cost of capital, even if not immediately] because they will improve staff diversity at all levels and reduce Lloyds’ exposure to social risk”.

Lloyds has stated that it recognises that some groups are under-represented in its ranks. Anyone viewing the current TV advertising campaign for its domestic mortgage lending arm, Halifax, showing a diverse mix of staff ready to serve customers despite working under Covid-19 restrictions at home, can see that Lloyds is not talking about front-line staff in this instance. It has set a target to increase five-fold the number of black staff in senior roles by 2025 and will be publishing data on its ethnicity pay gap.

Investors and rating agencies have been taking increasing account of environmental, social and governance (ESG) risks, reflecting the importance of sustainability, on all measures, to the corporation and to those who invest in it or lend to it. The note about Lloyds published by Moody’s on Thursday is a welcome acknowledgement of the work Lloyds is undertaking. Action of this sort should improve internal culture, communication, engagement and ultimately operational performance and profitability. The motivation behind showing a diverse face to the TV audience is that it contributes to winning customers and increasing revenue. The response of Moody’s suggests that yields benefits in addressing the capital market interface, ultimately increasing access to capital and reducing its cost.

Let us hope that Moody’s response to Lloyds’ efforts spurs others to recognise that action on equality, diversity and inclusion is good for business.

George Schultz at 99

Over forty years ago, I attended a four session seminar at the Graduate School of Business at Stanford with George Schultz, then moonlighting as a part-time professor while serving as President of Bechtel Corporation. By that stage in his career he had already been a professor at MIT, dean of the Chicago University Graduate School of Business, and served in the US government as both Secretary of Labor and Secretary of the Treasury. Two years later, the Economist’s leading article gave a warm welcome to his appointment as Ronald Reagan’s second Secretary of State, after the disastrous Alexander Haig when the Cold War showed dangerous signs of overheating. The Economist reeled of a list of the world leaders with whom Schultz had built a close relationship over many years, which contributed the dialling down of threats to world peace during and following Schultz’s term of office.

Among the unexpected benefits of the Covid-19 pandemic has been the efforts of organisations to reach out to audiences with webcasts and webinars. My Stanford connections mean that I am on a mailing list for the Hoover Institution where Schultz remains, at age 99, a senior fellow, and to judge by the unmissable half hour session on Monday evening, a very active one.

I recall being put down in 1980 by Schultz when I made a case, the details of which I have long forgotten, for government intervention of some sort and he responded arguing against the approach I’d suggested and made the case for the use of economic, and specifically market levers. It was striking in this week’s interview how wide is the range of areas in which he now argues for intervention in relation to domestic policy, albeit still using economic levers, and international co-operation to address the range of threats to the future of our society, not least climate change and inequality.

As one of the architects of détente in the 1980s, and more recently an advocate for continued international collaboration (arguing for example that Britain should remain in the European Union), it was no surprise that he contrasted both the current deterioration in the relations between the superpowers and the America First foreign policy of the Trump administration with the post World War 2 settlement. He opened his talk by citing the vision both of those who gathered at Bretton Woods in July 1944 to establish a new international monetary and financial order and of the European leaders who met in Paris in 1951 to surrender sovereignty to establish the Europe Coal and Steel Community and thereby laid the foundations of the European Union.

He presented a depressing outlook for the world, given the scale of the climate change crisis and the apparent lack of reason in the approach of too many world leaders. However, I am not sure that I buy all the arguments that he made. In particular, he argued that the ageing of the populations of North America, Europe, China and the more developed countries of Asian (and given the need for population decline to reduce pressure on the environment and address global warming, the inevitability of an ageing of the global population), create the potential for an end to economic growth and squeeze on living standards, which seemed to take little account of the potential for extending productive lives.

But, however interesting his view of the global outlook and whatever the pleasure for me of this trip down memory lane, what justifies including an account of Schultz’s webinar in this blog? The “takeaway” is his account of the importance of personal relationships and human interaction. It is clear from his anecdotes that his ability to rub along with people made a huge difference to the resolution of problems in the United States’ relationship with the rest of the world both when he was Treasury Secretary and, most critically, Secretary of State. The Economist was right in 1982 to hail the appointment of this massively networked figure. Interpersonal skills are important to the management of the interface between organisations, right up to the size of superpowers. They are also critical to the effectiveness of internal operations. In answer to a question about the dysfunctionality of US government and politics today, he observed that the key figures in both executive and legislative branches all lived in Washington for most of the year, and he would regularly meet over dinner with congressmen from both sides of the aisle, in contrast to the situation today. A glimpse perhaps of the Dark Matter that makes organisations work?

My recollection from our encounters in 1980 is of a solidly build man in late middle age (at least from the perspective of a 24 year old) with a gravelly baritone, a contrast with the smaller man of today with a voice pitched an octave higher. There is only so much we can do to hold back physical ageing, but it is inspiring to see that there is every reason for remaining engaged and committed to public debate. Schultz’s recipe for a long and active life was revealed in answer to the final question addressed to him: “Don’t stop working on the things that interest you.” There is no sign that George Schultz intends stopping soon.

Black Lives Matter: Three Currencies at work

The Black Lives Matter campaign, given the most enormous boost by the killing of George Floyd, provides a powerful example of the “three currencies” at work.

The roots of the movement illustrate the three currencies: in the cash employing commerce of the Triangular Trade of the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and the slavery plantations of the Caribbean and the American South, the brute force employed by tribal chiefs and British slavers in West Africa and subsequently by slave masters, and in the cultural norms that facilitated the establishment of companies by royal charter and act of Parliament and, in the United States until the Civil War, tolerated and legitimated continuing enslavement of uprooted black people for two hundred years.

The current movement illustrates the three currencies too.

Policing, principally but not exclusively in the United States, that relies on physical (in the case of George Floyd deadly) force is an application of power where the application of persuasion and influence have failed. Many observers argue that the overuse of force (including, in the United States, widespread resort to guns by police) ultimately frustrates the objective of achieving peaceful civil society, but that is generally not the belief of the shooters at the time. It is impossible to get into the mind of Derek Chauvin, the police office filmed with knee on Floyd’s neck. However, unless he mounts a defence in court of diminished responsibility as a consequence of a mental health disorder, we can only assume that his defence was that he believed that anything short of the force that he and his colleagues applied was insufficient.

Correspondingly, demonstrators who become rioters and throw missiles or charge a police line (albeit a police line is an application force) are deploying physical force reflecting the belief that the political expression of the demonstration is insufficient to achieve their purpose. Of course, it is possible to argue that rioting and throwing missiles may frustrate the purpose of the demonstration in the eyes of other demonstrators and the wider audience, but that is not the belief of the rioters themselves.

The toppling of statues, particularly that of Edward Colston, is an interesting case in terms of where the line is drawn between the application of physical force as a currency and the application of influence. It is indisputably criminal damage and the equally indisputable that the removal of the statue involved physical force. But the removal of the statue was an exercise of political expression designed to further a shift in a political and cultural norm in pursuit of a wider objective.

The expression of the mass demonstrations, particularly in the context of restrictions on public gathering as a result of the Covid-19 pandemic, has clearly been a very powerful application of power to influence an outcome through political means. There was already disgust felt widely across the world and within the American establishment without the demonstrations, but they have helped keep the story in the deadlines, have elicited positive responses from people in power (even if not from Donald Trump), and have generated accounts across mass media channels that probably both reflect a shift in public mood and reinforce it.

But what about Black Lives Matter as an expression of the third currency, cash? Just look at the way that corporate America has responded. What little I know of some of the corporate leaders who have spoken up to express their disgust at the conduct that result in the killing of George Floyd and others before him, satisfies me that most if not all of them instinctively oppose racism. However, most have spoken as clearly as they have in the knowledge that this will be good for their businesses. The messages coming out from the board room are not dog whistle statements designed to appeal to a “woke” audience without turning off an audience that is hostile to Black Lives Matter. Opposing racism is good for their businesses. Similarly, as a merchandise director with the UK’s largest retailer of stationery, in the 1980s I justified developing environmentally friendly (or at least environmentally less harmful) not just because I wanted to do my bit to help the save the planet, but because I was confident that it was going to be good for business – helping grow our sales and market share, enhance the standing of our brand, and attract the best and brightest young people to work for us. It hasn’t required a threat by the black community to boycott these US corporations, but the knowledge that wide swathes of the American population, black and white, will be influenced positively by the corporation taking a stand.

Lessons from a Warzone, by Louai Al Roumani

My NHS Trust has an annual “Lessons Learned” conference, for sharing the lessons that teams have drawn out from incidents that have taken place in the previous twelve months. Don’t waste a crisis by failing to learn from the experience. This book is about lessons learned from a crisis, but is much more than just another business book.

Louai Al Roumani was the fairly newly appointed CFO of the leading retail bank in Syria when the Arab Spring turned into the Syrian civil war. Most of his family fled to the safety of Kuwait as conditions turned nasty (ironically, they had been living in Kuwait when Saddam Hussein invaded in 1990, but missed the occupation because they were on vacation in what was then a very safe Damascus), but Al Roumani chose to remain, loyal to his home city and his company.

“Lessons from a Warzone: How to Be a Resilient Leader in Times of Crisis” recounts the lessons learned by Al Roumani over the next five years. In this time, despite mortar bombs falling in Damascus and ISIS reaching the outskirts, his bank, BBFS, didn’t just survive but thrived. It did this by doing things that when explained by Al Roumani, and you should already have realised if only you thought about them for moment, make lots of sense even if they fly in the face of what many less insightful managers and directors might do (and, indeed, was evidence by departure of the two directors appointed the one of the major investors).

The lessons include going the extra mile to look after customers (airlifting safe deposit boxes out of a local branch as ISIS overran a provincial town), providing them with reassurance (displaying piles of cash when they queued up to withdraw their deposits and not restricting the amount they could withdraw), looking after staff and avoiding redundancies and cost-cutting around workplace hygiene factors ,and robust systems testing and disaster planning.

He draws on his heritage as a Syrian, living in a city that claims to have been longest continuously inhabited community in the world (a claim of Damascus that Aleppo contests), but also sharing the nomadic transitions of hospitality and reciprocity of Arabi culture. There are great insights relating to thinking about the long term health of the company, informed in part by a different “concept of time” from the one that he had been exposed to during his Harvard MBA. He argues that you should not treat profitability as a critical success factor but that if you see your objective the long term wealth of your shareholders you will from time to time have to sacrifice short term profitability. Although his bank was a creation only of the 1990s, he argues for playing “the long game as a third generation family business does.” He tells a charming anecdote of a large purchase from a shop in the Damascus souq where, in contrast the lady ahead of him who haggled hard and secured no discount, the old gentleman who been silently observing the young man serving Al Roumani gave the instruction that Al Roumani should receive a discount to reward him for not haggling. The account provided by Al Roumani explains why BBFS displayed such resilience through the Syrian civil war that it both maintained sustainable positions in relation to the marketplaces it deals with and also built the corporate and social capital inside the organisation not just to survive but the thrive.

Don’t read this book just for the business lessons. It is a powerful tale of the resilience of a man and a society in the face of enormous threat and massive upheaval. You will learn about the experience of a slice of Syrian society during the last decade and about the cultural hinterland that supports it. It is also a human tale, which keeps resurfacing through the book and continues right through to the acknowledgements at the back – just for once, make the effort to read these as the book keeps on giving right up to the final page.

Lockdown – through the Escondido lens

We are in lockdown with Covid-19. Large parts of the economy are in suspended animation. Other businesses are operating on a hugely reduced scale. Others have recognised that their sales have dried up but have redeployed that assets and staff to help address the pandemic. The Chancellor of the Exchequer has become the “employer of last resort”, funding 80% of staff wages as an inducement for companies to keep people on their payrolls.

How should we interpret the reshaping of businesses through the lens of the Escondido Framework? In particular, what does it do those market interfaces that define the firm as visualised in a simple form by the Reuleaux Tetrahedron?

Are companies in the same business now that they were last month, before lockdown? In some cases, it easy to say that, at least temporarily, they are: the Lymington sail maker who has turned over his computer fabric cutting capability to turning out fabric pieces for others to sew up as scrubs for NHS front line staff and the university engineering departments that have deployed their 3D printers to make components for surgical masks. These companies have moved from one market into completely different one. Their staff, capital, and suppliers are relatively unchanged, but they have exchanged the customer market with which they usually interface with a completely different one.

Others have been transformed into agents of the state: temporary distributors of transfers by a government that has banned their businesses (particularly those in consumer services: retail, hospitality, entertainment) from operating. In their cases, the regulatory interface (not displayed in the 4 market interfaces of the Reuleaux Tetrahedron that describes the simplest companies, but has to be imagined in a multi-dimensional context) has moved inwards to the degree that the company is no longer creating value other than as a channel for transfer payments.

Another way of looking at the interpretation is that the company exists only in a shadow form, some ghost of what the company could become once again. I suspect there is a quantum analogy here – the locked down company with furloughed staff as Schodinger’s Cat. Certainly, the physical assets remain present, the staff remain employed, the wiring of the corporate structure remains in place, and the Dark Matter of the soft things such as relationships, corporate memory, social glue, shared assumptions, implicit operational and communication protocols continue – albeit that they may be vulnerable the longer that the lockdown continues. Zoom and its competitors keep some of the Dark Matter alive. The efforts that the investor, directors, and managers make in supporting and communicating with their staff will help, but the longer the uncertainty remains, or if the companies scrimp on their effort and investment in maintain this soft stuff, the greater the risk that the Dark Matter will leak away.

Markets, State and People by Diane Coyle

Rousseau observed that “Man is born free but everywhere is in chains”. Many people in business, politics and media talk about markets in a similar way, as though “free markets” are the natural state and desirable order and any intervention by an agency of the state or collective popular action is represents an undesirable fettering of enterprise.

Economists since Adam Smith have recognised that markets can fail and may need to be subject to intervention. Even figures as inspiring to simplistic supporters of free markets as Milton Friedman recognise that there are proper roles for the state where markets fail.

Diane Coyle starts in much the same place as other economists who look at limits of markets and the place of government intervention in markets. She starts with conventional analysis of market failures, listing seven instances of failure in the conditions required for free markets to be efficient. She returns these seven types of failure throughout her examination of the relationship between markets, the state and people, and description of the appropriateness of state intervention or collective action to address.

In cataloguing the failures and the responses to them, Coyle assists the reader, from the economics or politics undergraduate or MBA student getting their first exposure to welfare economics and public policy, through to the general reader seeking a better understanding of how the world works. She draws on and explains clearly the work of people like Coase, Ostrom and Thaler who have broadened and deepened our understanding of how people both cause and respond to the seven types of failure she describes. The book is furthered enriched, and the lessons consequently rendered more accessible, by a peppering of case studies illustrating the core arguments.

Coyle also tackles government failure, highlighting the shortcomings in bureaucracies (or among public servants) and as a consequence of political failures (or failures of politicians) that result in the application of the wrong policies to address the market failures. The text seems to peter out in the final chapter where she addresses what she appears to hope is the solution to the problems of government failure, which is the application of evidence to economic policy. In this chapter that she reveals the limitations of her experience as a career academic and regulator, with a rather slight addressing of the use of statistics and cost benefit analysis. This doesn’t detract from the power (or readability) of the previous nine chapters, but point to the opportunity for someone else to write something of similar tone and quality to fill the gap on how to test public policy initiatives to address market failure.

Orchestral conducting as illustration of organisational “dark matter”

Bryan Magee, philosopher, broadcaster, and sometime Labour Party and SDP MP, died just over a month ago, prompting me to return to “Ultimate Questions”, his profoundly satisfying meditation on the enigma of human existence.

It contains a splendid passage that describes the undefinable qualities that is present in organisations working at the highest level, which I describe elsewhere as “dark matter“.

“I contend that our knowledge and understanding of other people, and our relations with one another, cannot be explained by the observable exchanges we make with one another. Something else is going on as well. A particular and extreme – and for that reason clear-cut and useful – example of this is provided by orchestral conducting. Many music lovers are able to hear the difference between two recordings of the same work conducted by, shall say, Toscanini and Sir Thomas Beecham, but no one seems to be able to explain how each of these is arrived at, ranging as they do from the unity of the overall architecture down to each individual detail and its integration into the whole. Such things cannot be fully explained in terms of what the conductor says at rehearsals (which often is not much) plus the way he looks at the musicians and wave his arms about. An immense amount that we cannot account for is being communicated by one person to dozens of others who carry out his wishes in subtle detail. I have long been fascinated by this, and have discussed it across the years with orchestral players and conductors. Players agree immediately, and without question, that they play differently for different conductors, but they cannot account for why, still less for how the what that is required of them is communicated to them. Conductors know what they are doing, and can do it at will, but they can no more explain how they do it than I can explain how I move my fingers, though I can do that at will too. Here we have a highlighted example of something that, it seems to me, is going on amongst us human beings all the time. It is impossible to account for the warm, capacious, deep, detailed, sophisticated and rich understanding that we have of one another in terms of our attention to another’s words plus our observations of other’s bodily movement. Something else, of a different order is going on.”

Lessons for capitalism from the East India Company

William Dalrymple has helped people who don’t have the time to wade through 576 pages (or perhaps already have backlog of doorstep sized items of reading matter on the bedside table already) by writing an extended article on the subject of his new book about the East India Company in the FT. However, it is a compelling article and means that I may add “The Anarchy: the Relentless Rise of the East India Company” to my list for Santa this Christmas.

This is a company of superlatives, starting out as a joint stock company operating under charter arising from a petition by entrepreneurs and investors to Elizabeth I, growing to become an empire with 60 million subjects, its own army of 200,000 men , accounting for half of the trade of the leading trading nation. It’s global impact was enormous, from the fears about its reach – as well as its role in the tea trade – that contributed to the revolution in the Thirteen Colonies, to the part it played in the Opium Wars. Microsoft, Amazon, Google, Apple and before them the oil majors – they were clearly nothing to this behemoth.

Dalrymple brings out in the his article the complex relationship of the Company to British state, from its original charter, through the continuing lobbying into government, the corruption in the relationships between the Company and the establishment (for example, in 1693 shelling out £1,200 a year to prominent MPs, described by Dalrymple as the first corporate lobbying scandal), and the final demise of the Company in the wake of the Indian Rebellion.

Dalrymple’s article has the effect of drawing attention to is the inadequacy of conventional theory, both “Microeconomics 101” and the Theory of the Firm, to describe one of the greatest commercial entities the world has ever known. Some of things at work are the complex interfaces with the British state and its politicians, and also its deployment of its own naval operations (envisaged in its original charter) and an army to deliver a return to its joint stock holders, as well creating an entity became transformed into the biggest single component of Britain’s empire.

As I write this, I think he has done the job with his teaser article to promote the book. Perhaps I should ignore the size of the unread pile by my bed and add “The Anarchy” to the letter to the bloke with the reindeer and sleigh.

Employee activism: what does the Escondido Framework say?

Staff at Wayfair, the online furniture and household goods company, have been protesting at their employer selling furniture to a company equipping migrant detention centres in the US.[1] What does this say about the relationship of companies to their staff, about limits on the ability of shareholders to exercise power over the behaviour of that conventional theory suggests that they own, and about the rights and responsibilities of every one of us in relation to the organisations that we work for?

The relationship of companies to their staff

An organisation should consider ethical and political behaviour as part of the marketing mix when it thinks about its strategy towards its employees. Charities and other not for profit organisations are generally able to employ staff at a lower cost than organisations without an ethical mission because their staff make trade-offs between the income they receive in cash and feeling that they are achieving something for the wider good. As I have written elsewhere, when I headed up the buying and merchandising for the UK’s largest retailer of stationery in the 1980s, I argued to my bosses that the halo effect of developing environmentally responsible product ranges would be to enhance our standing among the students graduating from universities where we were recruiting. By selling to a company equipping detention centres, Wayfair has effectively shifted its positioning on one of the marketing dimensions of its interface with employees. This decision may blow over, but in the longer term Wayfair needs to consider whether to adopt a clear stance about the larger customers it sells to or it may ultimately have to accept that is will need in some way or other to change. This might involve paying staff a bit more in order attract staff to replace those who don’t want to be involved doing something they view us unethical. Or, if we make the assumption that one of the benefits of employing ethically informed staff is they are more trustworthy, it may need to put controls in place to cope with the risk that staff who are not as ethically sensitive to offset a lower level of trustworthiness. Or, if the values of the staff protesting against the sales for the detention centres reflect cultural norms in the location of the offices or warehouses in which they work, Wayfair may need to go to the expense of moving its operations to locations where the local population is less sensitive to such issues.

Limits on company owners

Ownership is a complex subject. Ownership of a piece of paper that says you have a share in the common stock of a company gives you a right to residual profits of a company and (assuming it is voting stock) in decisions about the appointment of directors of the company. And even if you are the owner of the entire voting share capital, it does not give you the ability to dictate everything that the company can do. Others who interact with the company can exercise their rights too. The Wayfair employees have made it clear their views and are attempting to limit the ability of the company’s owners to sell to whoever they wish. It is not a matter a law, or at least not law alone, the practical balance of power between an incumbent workforce, the managers and directors, as well as those of people who have invested in the company all come into play. In the case of a company with publicly traded shares that offer the opportunity to exercise votes once a year, if at all, and then only as a very blunt instrument, the shareholders can hardly been exercise ownership rights in relation to decisions about whether to sell to the developer of a migrant detention centre. The managers and directors will have to consider what is best for their own interests: do we concede to the employees’ demands, or do we shift the company’s market positioning in relation to the explicit and implicit interests of the workforce?

Our rights and responsibilities in relation to the companies we work for

The workforce at Wayfair may have put their jobs at risk. Those who have walked out are likely to have breached their contracts of employment. But acting in line with your conscience is not a matter of exercising a right as discharging a responsibility. The staff at Wayfair will be making trade-offs (or need to realise that this is what they are doing) between doing what they believe is right and their immediate financial self interest. The level of risk they take will reflect their own market power: can their employer find substitute staff with the requisite skills at a price that it can afford, or will it respond to the pressure from the protest, and furthermore, are they supported by the legal framework surrounding their employment or not?

[1] “Activist employees pose new labour relations threat to bosses: Wayfair walkout shows CEOs cannot duck political risks by claiming neutrality” FT 4^th July 2010