 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?”
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 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.
 Over the past couple of months, I have been deeply embedded in a pro-bono advisory engagement, and fulfilling several speaking and capability-building assignments—to such an extent that my writing has languished. Progress on Boardcraft stalled, and my last blog entry was back in May. But now, with those commitments in hand, I have surfaced to draw breath, scan the vista, and to begin writing again. Starting next week, I will pick up my pen (keyboard!) once more, to share my thoughts and observations on corporate governance, the board's role in driving organisational performance, and other topics that catch my attention. Expect a new muse some time on the first Monday of each month. As we get going again, may I ask a favour? Please tell me what you want to know about (as a comment to this post or via private message) and I'll do what I can to respond. This is a genuine offer to explore anything of interest—except if it is illegal or immoral, of course! For now, have a great weekend. See you Monday!
 Several times in the past year, I have been asked for advice, even to intervene, in situations where relationships between board members have become strained, or shareholders have fallen out—with each other or with board members—over differing expectations around returns and/or succession. Each situation has been both complex and demanding, for they involve people and human emotion. The following vignettes are illustrative of the types of things that can go wrong and the ensuing behaviours of various actors:
As is typical in board and shareholder matters, options are many and resolutions are far from clear cut. What options might a capable independent director consider in such circumstances?
These are questions of commitment and duty. Directors need to not only recognise this, but consider options amidst ambiguity, and work within the constraints of the law and what is ethically acceptable. Essentially, these questions ask how far a director is prepared to travel, how hard they are prepared to work, how long they might prepared to wait before enough is enough. Are they prepared to make decisions that may be unpopular or even unpalatable, because such decisions are in the best interests of the company? Will they go to the ends of the earth, so to speak? Or does the preservation of reputation rank more highly than acting in the best interests of the company—essentially, will they bail when the possibility of reputational damage arises (as several directors of Wynyard Group reportedly did just before the company failed several years ago)? Directors would be well-advised to have asked themselves these questions before they accept an appointment. They should also be prepared to act (step away) if the thresholds they set themselves are surpassed, or if they no longer have the expertise or courage to act. Of the directors you know, how many possess the wisdom and maturity to act diligently, in the best interests of the company?
 A few weeks ago, while facilitating a board masterclass at Naivasha, Kenya, I had the good fortune to see some local wildlife at close range. Some people consider walking in close proximity to wild animals to be dangerous, for it may portend harm or injury, but others embrace the activity with open arms. Thinking, that well-spring from which ideas and insights emerge, innovations are birthed, and humanity progresses and flourishes, is similarly polarising. One of the things I have been thinking about recently is quite selfish: What direction should I take my writing in 2024? Musings is nearly twelve years old (first entry was in March 2012, which coincided with my doctoral research efforts, and sharing of conference papers and articles). While the longevity makes it a rarity, my motivation has not changed. It has been to share thoughts on corporate governance, strategy and boardcraft; our place in the world; and other topics that catch my attention. Apart from the introduction of 'boardcraft', a word I coined in 2020, this overarching goal has remained consistent since day one. From humble beginnings, when entries garnered just a few readers, the blog is now widely read. Over the years, many readers have been graciously engaged in a discussion about a topical matter, or asked for help to realise potential. And that has been wonderful, thank you. And, as you might expect, some entries have garnered high attention; others less so. Readers seem to prefer pragmatic guidance over provocations or calls to think more deeply about something. Recent examples of the former include writings on questions, chairmanship, and storytelling. Now, as we stand on the cusp of 2024, my hope is that Musings remains relevant and useful into the future. And with that, may I ask a favour? (Actually, provide an opportunity, to crowdsource Musings!) What topics and style would ensure Musings remains relevant and useful as it moves into its teenage years? Do respond in the comments block below, or send me an email. And, thank you in advance.
 Twice this week, I have been asked about my reading and thinking habits. One enquirer wanted to know much time I spend reading and pondering insights garnered from various authors; the other whether I schedule [slow] thinking time. Although neither asked explicitly, both enquirers seemed to assume that quiet time and the notion of reading widely are important to me. And, indeed they are. But, why? The practice of reading serves, I think, two inherent objectives: to maintain currency with trends and developments, and to become a better person. The objective is not to become a technical expert capable of regurgitating data and ideas (ChatGPT can do that), but a more holistic thinker—one who discerns problems and opportunities, considers them from different perspectives, asks appropriate questions and draws relevant conclusions. More succinctly, someone who leads a reflective life. May I propose something? To philosophise is to breathe. In my experience, and that of others who I have been fortunate to interact with, the ideas that emerge from the practice of philosophising provide a solid foundation for that which follows. And yet many business leaders and board directors claim to be too busy to take time to ponder (think about) possibilities that might lie below the surface or around the corner. Quite why such a (seemingly) bedrock activity is neglected is a curiosity to me; high quality thinking is an antecedent of effective leadership and governance, n'cest ce-pas? When people I interact with, especially friends and clients, say they see a better me (someone who is on top of his game, is nice to be around and who offers relevant and considered advice), such observations tend to coincide with a period of reading literature (or other so-called 'brainy' books) and thinking deeply about the questions posed by the authors. While comments like this are gratifying, they serve a higher purpose: to remind me to make time, regardless of what else is going on around me. (And, in case you are wondering, my answers to the enquirers were, "About 12–15 hours each week" and, "Yes.")
 Diversity of thought has been widely promoted in recent times, as a mechanism to supposedly increase decision quality in boardrooms. Superficially, the idea of thinking differently is a positive evolutionary development from earlier efforts (think: women on boards) to break what is often described as the Old Boys' Club. That the discourse and intent has begun to move beyond appointing directors on the basis of physical attributes is helpful. And yet, the idea of 'diversity of thought' has long troubled me. How does anyone know what I am thinking, or anyone else in the boardroom for that matter? And what is diversity in this context anyway—me having different thoughts, or several of us thinking differently? Crucially, what of any link to the board's work and purpose, which is to provide steerage and guidance to achieve a strategic goal? Researchers have published correlations based on specific datasets, but the general case (a reliable linkage between demographic diversity and organisational performance) remains elusive. The somewhat amorphous 'diversity of thought' is similarly afflicted. Recently, cognitive diversity (that is, different ways of processing information and approaching problems) has been suggested as a more reliable mechanism to achieve higher quality decisions and, by implication, outcomes. This sounds positive, but reliable explanations are yet to emerge. Why is this so hard? Could the paucity of reliable explanations (of the relationship between board work and company performance) be due to researchers, directors' institutions and others trying to explain board work and develop 'best practice' models looking in the wrong place or using inappropriate tools? What if hypothetico-deductive techniques (in search of a deterministic best practice approach to some aspect of board work) are laid to one side and methods more common in social science used (critical realism or contingency theory, for example)? Should researchers embrace the idea that boards are social organisms, and that governance is a mechanism activated by the board? For the record, I employed critical realism, long-term observational techniques and contingency theory when researching boards a decade ago, as part of my doctoral research. The study was ground-breaking for it revealed new insights about board work including an explanatory framework. If you want to learn more about this study, check my thesis (academic-speak) or this article (plain-speak). In the past few weeks, I have picked up the question again (thanks to a wandering mind on long haul flights!), and have begun to wonder if fractals and chaos theory might offer a viable pathway to developing a theory of board work. Whether this might be a fruitful search or a blind alley remains unclear. Regardless, my mission is to help boards govern with impact, so the least I can do is dig further. And dig I shall. One request: If you know about fractals, or know of anyone who possess such expertise—especially in relation to social phenomena—could we schedule a call please? I'm starting from a pretty low base!
 One of the great challenges for board directors and executive leaders concerns written expression. How might one cast vision, report progress clearly, make a request unambiguously, or argue a point convincingly if the key messages are not clearly stated? Directors and executives owe a duty to their colleagues in this matter, for written reports are the primary vehicle for sharing ideas, proposals and data before each board meeting. To suggest the quality of the report (especially, the clarity of the message within) may be the difference between success and failure (that is, acceptance or rejection) is, probably, a truism. So, if we are to be convincing in our argumentation, we need to write well. But how? The first thing to acknowledge is that writing is a craft. And, as with any other craft, proficiency is something that emerges over time, as principles are learnt and applied in practice. Look to others who write well, and glean from them. Seek feedback from your readers too, and make adjustments. I have long relied on the guidance of William Zinsser (1922–2015), especially that offered in On writing well. Another great source is the Blue Book of Grammar and Punctuation, which provides specific instructions. How do you ensure board reports and business proposals are well written, and what tools and approaches do you use?
Do you have a question about governing with impact, or driving organisational performance?22/8/2023  One of the great joys of being an independent advisor is the opportunity to spend time with people from a wide range of backgrounds; business and social experiences; walks of life; and, in my case, countries and cultures. The depth and breadth of humanity never ceases to amaze me. Paradoxically, a common thread runs amongst the diversity: people intent on improving organisational effectiveness and making a difference spend lots of time asking questions, lots of questions. When a question is asked from the floor after a keynote talk, during an advisory engagement or professional development workshop, or as part of a confidential discussion or informal chat, something mysterious happens: Both parties learn! This should come as no surprise, for no one has all the answers—although some people behave as if they do. Recently, I posed several questions board directors may wish to consider. The response to that musing has been overwhelming, so I thought an open invitation might be in order. If you have a question about any aspect of corporate governance, strategic management, board craft or the challenge of governing with impact—either personally or on behalf of a board you serve on—please ask and I will gladly respond. Use the comment link here or, if you prefer, send an email. Let's learn together!
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SearchMusingsThoughts on corporate governance, strategy and boardcraft; our place in the world; and other topics that catch my attention. 
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Dr. Peter Crow, CMInstD
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