Transformations through the Four Phases of Whistleblowing
(Part 3)
The retaliation that usually follows a disclosure of
suspected wrongdoing is the foundation of the whistleblower myth. Despite coming after the whistleblower’s
decision to reveal the misdeed, retaliation serves to confirm the individual’s
courage. Without retaliation, the battle
of good and evil would be a tepid affair, not mythic. The enduring but painful result of
retaliation is a transformation of the whistleblower’s relationship with others
and her concept of herself.
Exclusion is a conventional retaliation against whistleblowers[1]
because it is such a common tactic in all groups[2]. The one who is so disloyal as to criticize
and disclose the group’s secrets deserves the ostracism that she receives. The company chooses among different ways
to cut her out. She may be excluded from
meetings she previously attended[3]. She may be reassigned to a location without
resources or a job without responsibilities[4]. Many whistleblowers are suspended or placed
on leave[5], marking
them as damaged and dangerous. Then, of
course, many are fired.
In addition to simply wanting to hurt the whistleblower, the
organization hopes to keep her from information that she might use against the
company and to encourage her to quit. The
company can accomplish its objective nearly without penalty. HomeFirst’s
attorney assured its CEO Niklaus that keeping me out of meetings and
reducing my responsibilities were nothing I could sue them for as long as my
pay and title were left unchanged.
The power of ostracism is not just its deniability by the
perpetrator. Struck to her social core,
the target can find the experience painful and distressing[6]. For six years I had enjoyed working with
HomeFirst’s Chief Program Officer, who had reported to me for several months after
I first was hired as CFO; we had collaborated, joked, and griped together most
mornings and evenings. When she closed the
door as I tried to enter the CEO’s office for our regular Monday executive
group meeting, I was startled and hurt.
To see the three women gathered together, glancing at my head in the
doorway, and to be told by the CEO to leave because I was not needed – my old work-buddy
connections turned acrid.
Irritation and distrust that were spawned in the earlier
phases of whistleblowing grew and spread to other relations. When it came time for me to search for
another job, I expected other companies to treat me as tainted and I expected I
would find them stained by dishonesty. I
anticipated and found instances of dishonesty in the nonprofits where I
volunteered. It was everywhere.
Most of us experience betrayal in our whistleblowing
projects – by our employers, others at the company who failed to support us,
friends and family who let us down, government agencies that fail to enforce
laws we claim our employers violated, our
attorneys, and news media. We
experience betrayals in other parts of our lives – sometimes marriages fail,
other family members become estranged, career dreams or health fail us – but we
chose the whistleblower life after sensing the danger. Like the
others, betrayals that arise from our whistleblowing mark, and possibly
embitter, us.
The whistleblower senses that her friends
are different after they learn she was fired for blowing the whistle. They may indeed view her in a new light after
she betrays her company and forsakes her responsibility to hold a job. Or they may simply tire of her assumed status
as whistleblower[7].
Not only does whistleblowing, especially in this fourth
phase, change the individual’s relationships with others, it changes her
conception of herself. To the extent
that she self-identifies as a whistleblower, she buys into the role’s mythic
qualities. She may claim that her
exalted professional obligations gave her no choice[8],
she was the one who brought integrity to the situation[9],
she had to tell the truth[10],
she was devoted to the country’s guiding principles[11],
she righted a great wrong[12],
or she protected those who could not protect themselves[13]. Loath to be called a hero because she was
just doing her job, she is open to being a Time
“Person of the Year”[14].
If she defeats her attacker, in either court or media
coverage, she can find vindication[15]
in her role. If she loses, she may –
possibly should – reassess whether she honestly held those ideals or whether
baser, less appealing reasons were also at play. That reassessment can take years: only after
18 years did Robert
Purcell lose the final appeal in his suit against the pump manufacturer he
accused of making illegal foreign payments.
Resolution of this, the longest-running whistleblower case, was rigged,
he concluded.
Maybe I am envious of those with high-blown motives, or
maybe with the benefit of distance from the misdeeds and disclosures, I find my
own noble motives less convincing. At
the time, I could point to my professional standards, personal integrity, desire
to tell the truth, and wish to protect people who could not protect themselves. My supposed rationales have not weathered
well in time, and they no longer press for action against the still uncorrected
wrongs.
Over the years of my whistleblowing project, I changed
again. The passion and anger have
dissipated, leaving me more analytical in my critiques and more skeptical of
claims by companies and government agencies that they are ethical and can be
trusted. On good days, I focus on a
smaller circle of family and the people I meet.
Whistleblowing in my narrative is not simply a battle of
right against wrong although legality and ethics provide a field for the
contest. The alleged wrongdoer acts selfishly
and not as a result of a moral miscalculation.
The whistleblower acts in response to a more powerful entity that
disregards her interests in favor of its own.
She reasserts her autonomy in the context of certain established social
or legal mores. Whether or not she does so
successfully, she is human, not mythic.
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