The Enticements of Whistleblowing
On June 1, 2017, two Bloomberg articles described
contrasting approaches to the discovery of organizational misdeeds. In the
first, U.K. regulators explained their refusal to pay financial industry
whistleblowers for what they ought to do anyway. They cited the costs, complexity, and moral
hazard involved in such payment schemes.
The
second told of a
former Caterpillar Inc. accountant who may be eligible for a $600 million
reward for having revealed the company’s evasion of $2 billion in U.S. income taxes.
Another contrast: while articles on whistleblowing often discuss
the penalties suffered by those – Veteran
Administration employees, for instance – who disclose organizational
wrongdoing, others extol the expansion of protections for whistleblowers, most
recently for
staff of the VA. Until the Civil
Service Reform Act of 1978, the country’s only whistleblower protection was
provided to federal employees who brought information to members of Congress
under the Lloyd-La
Follette Act of 1912. Now every
state has at least one whistleblower protection law, and 22 federal laws
protect informants, but still they regularly experience retaliation.
A final contrast: organizations commonly disparage whistleblowers
as disgruntled employees, but our defenders know that we are principled. Big-time actors like Edward
Snowden and Chelsea
Manning are described by some sources as traitors and by others as heroes.
These two poles exist: one warns us to run for cover and the
other attracts. Which way we should lean
seems less clear than years ago. When
Ralph Nader gathered stories of informants in 1972[1],
the stakes were high: the public was deceived about the costly war in Vietnam, the
largest car manufacturer in the world knowingly sold unsafe vehicles, leading companies
conspired to conceal the dangers of smoking, private contractors grossly overbilled
the U.S. military, and our government misled the public about nuclear
safety. With so much at risk, Nader recommended
that every employee have the right to object to the activities and policies of
his employer and to go public if his complaints were not answered.
If we hear more stories of exposed wrongdoing today than
were available 45 years ago, we can thank the multiplying government-private
interdependencies that can trip up either side, the proliferation of
instruments for presenting complaints, and (as Nader observed 45 years ago) the
social dominance of organizations that fuels individual discontent. There are more but smaller violations, more
ways to document and expose misdeeds, and more people upset enough to make
disclosures, but there are also more enticements to become a whistleblower, including the U.S. pay-for-tips strategy.
When I identified HomeFirst’s overbilling
of the County of Santa Clara in July 2013, I did not immediately think to expose
any wrongdoing. That possibility emerged
as HomeFirst’s CEO resisted addressing the problem, after the board Chair
directed me not to inform outsiders of future violations, and after the Audit
Committee chair assured me that, as a former bank president, he was sensitive
to the need to address the concerns of whistleblowers. These events played out during news accounts of Edward Snowden's release of purloined NSA files and his escape first to Hong
Kong and then to Russia.
Global
queries into whistleblowing surged during
this period, and my own interest in the subject took shape. A desire to do good had attracted me to work
with nonprofits and at HomeFirst, specifically, and correcting wrongs seemed
consistent with that. Moreover, fixing the
misdeeds seemed a reasonable part of my job as CFO and Compliance Officer. Although I was unaware that financial rewards
might be paid to informants, others’ admiration of my noble actions seemed
likely. I had always felt a kinship with
rebels despite a
career spent in corporate environments. HomeFirst’s
policy and State
law promised whistleblower protection, as did, I thought, my position as a valued
executive. Although I had no real
plan, these incentives eased my way along the small-time whistleblowing path.
Twenty-five year-old Reality
Leigh Winner entered the news because she sent a top secret NSA document to
The Intercept. Following a four-year tour in the Air Force, Winner
had been working at Pluribus International, which performs contract work at
NSA, for less than three months when she saw a report that detailed Russian
interference in U.S. elections. It revealed
facts that went well beyond the public story.
In the days before the appointment of Robert Mueller as special counsel
to investigate the matter, she
might have thought the information would be concealed by the administration. Like me and unlike Edward Snowden, Winner had
no real plan. She was caught by the FBI
hours after The Intercept published the material.
While her disclosure provided new grist for the journalism
mill, it exposed no government wrong and opened her to the possibility of years
in prison. Winner’s youth, apparent rashness,
and prompt arrest led some to find her motivations disappointing, and she has
been judged not
a whistleblower at all but merely a leaker.
In that assessment her critics echo Malcolm
Gladwell’s dismissal of Snowden as a mere hacker, and they insist on the overblown
concept of the whistleblower as moral hero.
The radical version of organizational free speech offered up
by Ralph Nader in 1972 and by Julian
Assange today suggests that recommending changes, complaining, leaking,
whistleblowing, and other expressions of voice[2]
are variants on a single theme: opposition to the intrusion of organizations into
human lives. All are techniques inspired
by obscure, conflicted impulses, and none is morally exalted above the others.
A corollary of the expectation that we accept only
virtuous inducements to blow the whistle is permission for our employers to justify
retaliation against us by their own lofty values of loyalty, respect, and
teamwork. But if Winner, Manning,
Snowden and others deserve to be jailed for violating the law with their
disclosures, then so should organizations and managers be punished for their
unlawful retaliations. Making the individual
whole – a standard too seldom reached – is inadequate to provide either real vindication[3]
or justice regardless of what enticed the whistleblower to act.
[1] Nader,
Ralph, Peter Petkas, and Kate Blackwell (eds.).
Whistleblowing: The Report of the Conference
on Professional Responsibility. New York: Grossman Publishers. 1972.
Measuring how times have changed, Nader cited two causes of complaints
that seem common today: corporate contributions to political campaigns and
government spying on citizens.
[2]
Cf. Hirschman,
Albert O. Exit, Voice and Loyalty: Responses to
Decline in Firms, Organizations and States. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University
Press. 1970
[3]
For example, Bradley
Birkenf1eld, Brandon
Coleman, Chris
DiIorio, Theresa
Ely, Maeve
Kennedy Grimes, Ian
Minto, Eric
Payne, and Patricia
Williams
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