by Rushworth M. Kidder
LONDON
The business ethics movement is alive and well and living–a bit gingerly–in Britain.
The movement is not as well defined nor as broadly accepted as its counterpart in the United States, which it views with mingled regard and suspicion.
It hasn’t yet hammered out the language of values-based decision making that, in U.S. firms, is slowly replacing compliance-based sign-off sheets.
But facing a massive challenge–globalization–each side is looking for answers that bring the same ethical standards to bear in different cultures.
I draw these conclusions after years of watching the business ethics movement take shape on both sides of the pond, and after five days of intensive interviews and conversations here with more than 30 business executives, professors, teachers, foundation leaders, government officials, and ethics professionals.
On one thing they agree: British business hasn’t developed an ethics infrastructure like that of the United States. Few companies have “ethics officers,” although some assign ethics responsibilities to the office of company secretary, corporate or public affairs, or human resources. Ethics training programs are not much in evidence. Nor are ombuds offices and help lines. And while codes of practice are increasingly common, there’s some squeamishness about calling them codes of ethics.
As a result, a number of functions that fall into separate offices in U.S.-based corporations–around issues of environment, diversity, health, safety, and community relations–are here found milling around together in the same tent. Conceptually, of course, you can make a case that this menagerie has common moral parents: These are all the so-called “soft” areas. Herding them together, however, creates some confusion about just exactly what ethics is–not least in the minds of the zookeepers.
Nor is there a forum for learning from one another. There’s nothing here resembling the Ethics Officer Association in the United States, although the HUB Initiative of the Institute of Directors is looking at how business can better promote its values by setting up a forum to debate the issues nationally. There is also an increased focus on social and ethical audits, ethical sourcing, and sustainable development encouraged by the International Development Secretary.
But perhaps the most noticeable difference, according to knowledgeable insiders, is in the boardroom. Board-level ethics committees are increasingly common in U.S.-based firms. Here, there remains strong resistance to any overt boardroom consideration of ethical issues. That doesn’t mean the decision making is routinely unethical. British business, with its centuries-old tradition of “my word is my bond” and its pride in doing the right thing, has an inherently ethical dimension. It’s just that board-level conversations about the topic are viewed with mistrust, even embarrassment.
Why? In part because the business community here lacks a shared language of public discourse to unpack ethical issues. Instead, ethical issues tend to get expressed in at least three other languages. There’s the language of emotion, highly charged and often divisive. There’s the language of the ethics crusade, seeking to gin up public outrage against certain corporate behaviors. And there’s the language of moralizing, finger wagging and hectoring. Not only ineffective, these languages can be counterproductive. Needed: a language of moral decision making that can articulate the relationship between ethics and the bottom line–and then helps people live it out in practice. Without it, directors and officers naturally retreat into the “ethics is private” fortress.
Exceptions? Surely. Most notable, perhaps, is Shell, whose 1995 public relations disaster with Greenpeace and European environmentalists over disposal plans for its obsolete Brent Spar oil rig sent the company reeling into a deep rethink. In April it published the results: a candid, penetrating, and cutting-edge 56-page exploration of its values titled “Profits and Principles-Does there have to be a choice?” (See www.shell.com for more information.) Other companies here have also issued statements of values and social responsibility.
There remains, however, a suspicion of the U.S. ethics juggernaut. The reason? Some note that the word-loving English prefer to sort things out in broader understandings, while pragmatic Americans like to reduce things to a few crisp declarations. Others locate the difference in the “softly, softly” pace of British debate versus the “ready, fire, aim” mentality of the Yanks. Still others see a kind of cultural hypocrisy in the U.S. movement: How, one business professor asked me, can a nation whose children murder each other with guns have anything to tell us about ethics?
But these differences pale before the challenge of globalization, which remains the abiding concern on both sides of the Atlantic. Proud of their long ethical traditions, both countries are contemplating unpalatable alternatives as they go global. They can seek to impose the values of Manchester or Minneapolis on other nations. Or they can hide behind the adage, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”
Neither way works. So both may need to search for a set of shared global values that can carry them forward. Both know their success lies in espousing ethical standards that will allow them to survive in 21st-century crosscurrents. Both are mounting ethics initiatives–across firms, and across sectors of society–to explore this challenge.
In this regard, they’re poised to learn a great deal from each other.
Comments and questions? Reach me at rkidder@globalethics.org.
(c)1998 by Rushworth Kidder