 The truth, they say, is a good thing, for it will set you free. This seems reasonable, even self-evident to many. But what is truth? Is it a thing (a fact) or a process? Is it deterministic or does it emerge? Is it absolute or relative? And, in a social context, is truth even possible or desirable? The pursuit of truth conjures the notion of a deterministic 'answer' to a question or problem, without worrying too much about (or even considering) the context within which the truth claim exists. Consider darkness. Does being unable to read a book on the patio at twilight mean it is dark? How might this expression of darkness compare with the darkness inside a sealed cavity into which light cannot penetrate? And what of degrees of truth? If just one instance is discovered to be false, does that mean the entire truth claim needs to be set aside? Complicating matters, something may be 'true' but unpalatable, such as, genocide or rotten eggs. Now, consider health. What does it mean to be healthy? For some, maintaining a balanced diet and sleep pattern is sufficient. For others, health involves strenuous exercise and physical fitness. Yet others pursue mental health, a sound mind and great relationships. Is the threshold one of having food, shelter and security; or is a higher order of fulfilment necessary to be healthy? And, how might health and truth relate to each other? Is truth a necessary condition for personal health, or are there situations in which truth might need to be secondary to health? Are truth and health even related? And what of truth and health in an organisational setting? Are the comparisons similar or different? Who decides and what factors should be considered in the decision process? In the past two years, I have come face-to-face these types of questions on many occasions:
Selecting between two tough options is never easy. The 'least bad' option doesn't sit well in many cases. But as in life, decisions in organisations need to be made, more so in boardrooms. If boards are to provide effective steerage and guidance in pursuit of an agreed outcome, they need to roll their sleeves up, understand the options and make a decision. But with what reference point to the fore? Should boards prioritise being 'right' (legalistic, truth), or should they select options more likely to lead to sustainable outcomes (organisational health)? If boards are to govern with impact, the high road is, in most cases, the better option.
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 Boards are under pressure. Every time news of another corporate failure hits the news waves, attention is focussed on the board. Such attention is justified; ultimate responsibility for company performance lies with the board after all. That five out of six directors do not have a comprehensive understanding of the business of the business they are charged with governing suggests that boards deserve the scrutiny they get. Regulators have responded by instituting a raft of regulations—and directors' institutions and others have promulgated codes and ‘soft’ guidance too—in the hope of improving board practice. Activists have not been idle either, voting against those perceived to be ill-equipped to contribute well. To date, actions taken have had the opposite effect in many cases. The rising tide of regulations and codes, and activism, has seen many boards adopt a siege mentality. What is more, many boards struggle with the seemingly straightforward task of making smart decisions to ensure future business success. Research published by Henley Business School nearly a decade ago showed fewer than one in three boards have sufficient cognition, cohesion, commitment and knowledge to reach a conclusion, much less make a smart decision. If the level of understanding of the business amongst directors is low, and the quality of the board's decision-making is weak, it is little wonder aspersions are being cast and board effectiveness is being questioned. Reputations are on the line, and rightly so. Boards are by no means powerless, of course. My global research reveals a common pattern amongst the most effective boards: they are aspirational, and they ask great questions to inform their decision-making. Five questions, in particular, stand out:
If boards are to have any hope of governing with impact, directors need to understand the operating context (market and competitors), emerging trends and disruptions (situational awareness), and the business of the business. They also need probe and verify (that is, ask good questions and cross-check), to determine whether the decision under consideration is not only meritorious, but well-aligned with, and contributory to, the agreed corporate purpose and strategy. Anything less is a dereliction of duty, n’est-ce pas? How does you board measure up?
 I like exploring: old towns and villages, and the countryside; enjoying the landscape, clambering along trails and even into river beds to look more closely at flora and fauna. The pictures that form in my mind’s eye provide important context to understand the scene, and what may have gone before. Take the above image for example, a photograph I took a few weeks ago, having stepped off the path while walking towards a disused railway. This seemingly innocuous scene is of a fast flowing river, in a gorge. But more than that, it is just along from an abandoned gold mining settlement and an extraction plant (who knew?), and it has a name: the Ohinemuri River, this section is in the Karangahake Gorge. If the picture is studied more closely, details not apparent at first glance can be seen: plants in bloom, logs dumped from an earlier flood event, and an adjacent highway. Some details seem inconsequential, like the red blooming plant, others are far more significant (the river obviously floods from time to time, the gorge ‘hosts’ a major highway). Clearly, the act of looking ‘into’ the picture, not simply at it, reveals much. And so it is with board work: to look beyond what is written in board papers, to consider what is not written, the wider context within which the company operates, and still-weak signals that may portend trends and potential disrupters is crucial, if the board is to secure a more complete understanding and, ultimately, make more informed decisions. While some boards behave as if such things do not matter, effective boards know better. They are alert to both macro trends and issues (this recent report, from INSEAD, offers helpful insight), and more immediate matters such as sales figures, staff engagement and customer satisfaction trends. When was the last time you scanned the horizon to understand the wider context within which the company you serve operates, and how long has it been since the board thought deeply about the future, and the various risks and opportunities that might effect the company and its prospects?
 One of the most satisfying aspects of my work involves sharing insights gained from 'live' experiences, in the hope they might be of some value to others. Whether it be facilitating a boardroom discussion, advising a chair, delivering a keynote, leading a capability building workshop, or chatting with a colleague, the call to share my knowledge and experience is strong. So, when Mark Banicevich, Founder of Governance Bites, contacted me for a chat, I was agreeable, more so as we had previously explored various aspects of board work (the recordings are available: here, here and here). The topics Mark wanted to explore included boards in crisis situations; ethical dilemmas in governance; and, governance in developing nations. A date was agreed, and the 'record' button was pressed. Now, all three of the fireside chats have been published. You can watch them here ⬇️. If you have any questions having watched them, or want to check something out, please feel free to contact me directly. Boards in crisis situations: Ethical dilemmas in governance: Governance in developing nations:  That life is complex and unpredictable is a truism. And, though the frequency and impact may vary, change is a constant, it seems. If one is to thrive (succeed, realise goals) in such an environment, adaption is critical having detected something has changed. To ignore or pay lip-service to change is folly, and to guess how to respond is about as reliable as gambling. The same principle applies in organisational and boardroom settings. As in life, some of what is seen, heard or read is reliable, but much is not—to the extent that descriptors such as misinformation and disinformation have become commonplace, even hackneyed. Consequently, those charged with providing effective steerage and guidance need to be alert, to ensure decisions about how to proceed are underpinned by accurate data from reliable sources, and insights from conversations and analysis. Two techniques I have found useful when considering decisions with strategic implications:
If boards are to make sound decisions, directors need to breathe—to create space and time to consider options well. Boards should also agree on the decision criteria, process and timing at the outset; guard against being drawn into irrelevancies along the way; and, employ a strategic mindset throughout. How does your board measure up in this regard?
 I have a thing about bridges. They are, in my mind at least, points of connection: not only between physical locations separated by water or chasm, but also between people, and between seemingly discordant ideas. This week I have been in the United States and Canada: in Chicago, to deliver a keynote at the Private Directors Association national conference, lead two masterclasses and fulfil other engagements; in Toronto, to speak at a Governance Professionals of Canada event and attend other meetings; and, in Knoxville, to catch up with a dear friend of some 45 years and take in some local history. In my downtime, I have done as I usually do: sate my curiosity—taking in the local sights, sounds and smells, and getting a sense of the history. From lakes (Michigan and Ontario), rivers (Tennessee) and vistas, to monuments, plaques and people, the social fabric that makes a place, well, a place is plain to see and feel. And, as I walked, I stopped periodically, to ponder those who went before, what they might have thought, and their intentions and actions as they went about their lives.  Then, last night, as I enjoyed hospitality in Knoxville, my mind was drawn to a comment my father shared many years ago, “Bridges are made for crossing, not burning.” Now, five decades on, I would add, “Bridges should be built and then crossed.”  To cross a bridge as it is being built is folly. Not only is this a poor use of resources, the likelihood of arriving at the intended destination is low. But this is what many executive teams and boards seem to do—they work it out as they go, or they assume that someone else has the matter in hand. Sometimes, they are so busy operating that they do not look past the here and now. But that is hardly a sound way to create value or a thriving business that endures over the longer term. The role of the board of directors is to govern, meaning to provide effective steerage and guidance. And, one of the four principles of corporate governance is ‘set direction’, meaning, to determine corporate purpose and strategy. And therein lies an awkward bridging question: If a company’s board has not set direction, what hope should the executive have of leading well; or the staff being productive; or, ultimately, of the potential of the company being realised? The strategic governance framework is one option boards may wish to consider, as they strive to see around corners and govern with impact. PS: For curious readers: The bridges pictured are the Gay Street Bridge in Knoxville, and the Michigan Avenue Bridge in Chicago.
 I was fascinated last evening, at a variety of behaviours on display following news that UA787, a flight from Houston to Chicago-O’Hare was delayed due to a technical problem. The captain provided updates, initially announcing the delay and reason. A little later, he came on the PA again, to apologise. Then he added, “that the engineers were working on it, and were confident of resolving the issue soon.” Some, likely the elderly gentleman I was seated beside, were a little anxious. He was being met by a family member and did not want to put the family member out at all. His response was to ask the flight attendant for an ETA, so he could make a telephone call to the party meeting him. Others, such as the business woman seated across the aisle, became agitated, as if the delay was the flight attendants’ fault; the impression being that she was busy and important and, therefore, the problem needed to be fixed “now”. Her response was direct: as soon as she had the opportunity, she collected her things and hurried off the flight. Others got off too, without fanfare. Yet others, sat quietly and waited, knowing there was little they could do. The situation provided an impromptu study of human behaviour and, in particular, how some people seem to have lost (or rejected) the art of waiting. I wanted to get to Chicago as much as any other passenger, especially having already flown in the care of Air New Zealand from home to Houston. And, a younger me may well have become frustrated at the situation, as the woman who left abruptly. But, I have learned to leave those things we cannot control to others. As I reflect on the experience, my mind is drawn to board work. The role of director is one of service. Have I allocated sufficient time to not only read papers, but consider them and read further? How patient am I when arrangements do not flow as planned, especially logistical arrangements? Is my schedule crammed, or does it provide space, not only as contingency but also for critical thinking? The very best directors arrive at meetings prepared, calm, and ready to go, having allocated space before the meeting, to read, think, and prepare questions. The rest, who tend to look harried and unprepared, need to reflect on their situation. Why are they not ready to contribute well? Are they poorly organised? Are they overboarded? Ultimately, are they fit to serve as directors, given the duties they owe? PS: UA787 departed 57 minutes late, and arrived approximately 24 minutes behind schedule. The Captain apologised once more. Flight attendants were polite. Passengers were looked after. The world didn’t end.
 Since time immemorial, man has sought to explore: natural curiosity has led to many discoveries, of previously unknown lands, flora and fauna, and more besides. Innovations and inventions too; discoveries enabling further exploration, and on it goes. Through the arc of history, exploration and discovery has been based upon empirical techniques—going and having a look. About six decades ago, Jane Goodall put this approach to work as part of her research to learn more about chimpanzees. Her assessment was, straightforwardly, that if reliable understandings of how chimpanzees socialise were to be achieved, they needed to be watched, directly, over an extended period, as difficult as that might be. The extended period is necessary because behaviours change when a new actor arrives. Thus, Goodall’s study could not begin in earnest until the chimps became more familiar with her and reverted to behavioural patterns thought natural. When behaviours reverted, as Goodall thought they might, several new discoveries not previously known were made. The approach Goodall used, and her discoveries, demonstrated the high value of longitudinal ethnographic techniques when studying social groups and their behaviours. And yet, while this has been understood for decades, centuries even, its application to my field—boards—is rare. Instead, since the dawn of board research, the dominant paradigm has been to collect data about directors, the composition of the board and other data, from outside the boardroom, typically from public databases, interviews and surveys. Such approaches have been deemed acceptable because researchers have found it very difficult to enter the boardroom. Given the only place the board and its work actually exists is in the boardroom, and that the board is a social group, surely the gold standard must be to conduct long-term studies of boards in session (through direct and non-participatory observation), as Goodall studied chimpanzees? This issue, of using appropriate techniques that explore the subject of interest, not a proxy, was made plain by an ex-military colleague recently; his pertinent remark was, simply, “The map is not the terrain.” What seems to be the case (on the map) may not be the case (in reality). The underlying message was confronting: if you want to really understand, go there, gain first-hand knowledge. And so it is with board research. If we really want to understand how boards work, and how boards actually make decisions and influence performance, not how directors say they do when they are interviewed, watch them over an extended period. Then, possibly, you might be able discern what happens; how directors act and interact; and, even, spot associations between a strategic decision and some subsequent change in organisational performance. The findings will be contingent, of course, because the group is social, the situation complex, and external influences are many and varied. To date, fewer than a dozen longitudinal observation studies, of boards going about their work, have been published. And, somewhat awkwardly, the reported findings present a different perspective from that commonly asserted by others informed by research conducted away from the boardroom: The capability of directors (what they bring), the activity of the board (what it does), and behaviour (how directors act and interact), appears to be far more important than the structure or composition of the board. Now, as I wait to board a flight, for yet another international trip to work with boards, my colleague’s comment is ringing in my ear. And with it, a question, “What guidance will you rely on, given the importance of governing with impact?”  Have you ever thought about the arc of your career, and how things change over time—not only preferential changes, but societal and technological changes too? My first university degree (a bachelor with first-class honours in computing technology, manufacturing systems and management science) marked me as an engineer, of sorts. But five years into my work career, I was invited to set the programming skills down and to take on a ground breaking project. And I did, and it was good. Sales, leadership and international business development roles followed. Then, in 2001, I stepped away from an executive career having realised a preference to become a consultant or advisor. This, and a post-graduate diploma in business that followed, saw me re-marked, as a social scientist. Most recently, in 2016, I completed a third tranche of study, this time a doctorate, in corporate governance and strategy, to support my passionate interest in helping boards govern with impact and realise organisational potential. Retraining and continuing professional development has been a constant thread through my career since I first graduated from university. Clearly, my professional preferences and interests have moved over the arc of my professional career. And technology has too. Telex machines were de rigueur when I got my first job, but the onset of facsimile machines saw telexes and their operators cast off. Later, email replaced internal and postal mail. The arrival of the Internet, smart phones, and apps changed everything again. Jobs commonplace in 1984 simply do not exist any more, and untold numbers of new job titles have appeared too. Today, humanity stands on the cusp of another change: a transition some say will be transformation, a paradigm shift, in a Kuhnian sense. The emergence of artificial intelligence (AI), and its application to routine tasks (notably but not only administrative and repetitive tasks), portends the demise of a whole swathe of roles, just as jobs entitled telegram runner, mailroom sorter, and telex operator have been consigned to the annals of history. One area where the onset of AI strikes close to home is administrative support for boards: the role of company secretary (or, board secretary)—that role that helps prepare board agendae, record minutes of meetings and ensure various compliance items are attended to. I've been trialling Zoom's AI companion (a meeting recording system), Microsoft Co-pilot and a few other tools to document conversations. The results are astounding. Now, I am wondering whether [human] secretarial support will be required in the boardroom in the near future, for the quality of the outputs from AI tools is already pretty good. Assuming these tools continue to get better, which they will, what of all the people who have trained as board/company secretaries (or the modern moniker, governance professional)? Might these people now be standing at an inflection point, even on the cusp of obsolescence? Or, will boards still need a human to check what is written and what is prepared? I'd really appreciate hearing your thoughts on this, especially company secretaries and governance professionals, for whom the onset of AI has the potential to completely disrupt career choices.
 I have been watching the leaves on a potted plant go a little yellow in recent days. Something is not right; the plant has been suffering, clearly—but why? Had I been over- or under-watering it? Or have I applied the wrong amount of fertiliser? After checking with sources more knowledgeable than me (a book in my library, but also Google), the penny dropped. The plant had become root-bound, a victim of its own success. Simply, the pot had become a constraint. The resolution? A bigger pot, to provide space for the plant to thrive once more. Now, we wait. Boards and companies are analogous to the pot and plant in this illustration. The pot holds the plant and provides space for it to thrive and grow. Sometimes, a new pot is the change needed if the plant is to thrive. And so it is with companies: sometimes changes are needed at the board table to reinvigorate decision-making, steerage and guidance. Whereas plants tend to droop, go yellow or otherwise signal poor health, tell-tale signals that it might to be time to make adjustments in a boardroom tend to be visible too. Examples include:
While this list is far from exhaustive, it is indicative. Notice many of the signals (that a director is out of their depth or no longer fit to serve) tend to be behavioural. But how might any shareholder or supernumerary know the real situation given boards tend to meet and operate behind closed doors? Something might seem to be amiss, but what, and who? A governance assessment (note, not a board evaluation) can be a useful tool to assess the effectiveness of the board and the governance 'system', and to diagnose any underlying problems. These should be conducted annually, by a credible independent assessor. Recommendations emerging from such an assessment need to be taken seriously. Boards that dismiss evidence-based recommendations out of hand, or make cursory adjustments only (the "sweep it under the carpet and hope for the best" tactic), should take a good look in the mirror. The response is itself a clue—defensiveness tends to confirm that all is not well. When something doesn't quite seem right, check it out. Directors serve at the pleasure of shareholders, and replacement is always an option. Often, it is a very good option; sometimes, it is the best option. Normally, a simple majority is all that is required to both appoint and remove a director. To give the director the benefit of the doubt is rarely the best option. Finally, if a decision is taken to remove a director, act on the evidence quickly, but do so quietly.
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Dr. Peter Crow, CMInstD
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