In Australia we have just been through a very revealing Royal Commission into the Banking and Financial Services sector. For most of us the nightly news updates from the hearings have made compelling viewing. For the bankers called as witnesses it has been much more traumatic.
During the many months of the Inquiry, senior banking staff were grilled before wrapt audiences. When confronted with evidence of their own, or their banks’, misbehaviour, witnesses tended to wilt before slinking away with tails firmly between legs. But there was one notable exception; Ken henry, Chairman of the Board of the National Australia Bank (NAB).
Mr Henry, a very senior and respected ex-public servant, stood apart from other witnesses. He came out fighting. He was solid in defence, haughty and unrepentant, with little or no acknowledgement of wrongdoing. Was he a shade dismissive?
Last week the Commissioner – gimlet-eyed Kenneth Haynes – handed down his final report and within days Mr Henry and his NAB CEO had resigned their posts, tails between legs after all.
To me, the story of Ken Henry and the Commission is a story about vulnerability and our powerful desire to minimise it. When he appeared before the Commissioner late last year, Mr Henry had his full suit of armour on. Despite the fierce attacks of Counsel Assisting, he deflected all blows and kept himself safe from harm. With his success did he ensure his ultimate failure?
While wearing his armour, Ken Henry the person was invisible to us. With his well-defended mindset he was in effect prioritising his own safety and self-image over his relationship with the rest of us. By hiding his humanity, by denying any sense of remorse or sorrow, he broke the bonds of respect, trust and empathy. How can we understand and empathise with someone who hides behind armour plate?
The very real human instinct to keep oneself safe often gets in the way of our attempts to work with others. We want to collaborate. We believe we are collaborating, yet our unwillingness to reveal our own weaknesses or insecurities in those relationships undermines the very relationships we need in order to work together effectively. We all face moments of truth when we can choose either our own sense of safety and ‘rightness’ or the health and wellbeing of our collaboration. It is hard not to choose the former, but if we are genuine about collaborating, the path of vulnerability is the path we must take.