Whistleblowing, Clean and Messy
In his NY Times column, The Ethicist, Kwame Anthony Appiah
responds to ethical questions posed by readers.
In a recent issue, a
middle school student asked about becoming a whistleblower.
During a test the student witnessed three fellow students
cheating while their teacher was out of the room. He[1] wanted
to be honest but also feared the consequences of reporting the violation – to
the three cheaters and his friendship with them. His school has no official honor code.
This seems to be the typical whistleblower’s dilemma. An honorable person sees misbehavior and must
weigh the personal consequences of disclosing it to authorities against the
social benefit produced by disclosure.
It is the problem cleansed of emotion that academics have
addressed for years[2]. Here the individual has time to consider the
issues and seek advice from wise people.
The significance of the wrong can be evaluated objectively, which Appiah
does.
Appiah, commends the student for his values and suggests
that cheaters eventually pay for their dishonesty. He agrees that the student has no moral
obligation to report the incident and the personal effect of reporting could be
painful. He does not point out, but
readers understand, the misbehavior is not really egregious. He may stay silent. To soothe his conscience, the student could write
his principal a letter recommending teachers not leave test sites without
monitors.
Appiah might also have counseled me against ratting on
HomeFirst. I might have heeded his caution
that the personal ramifications would be significant. I was probably going to retire about a year after
I started pushing the
violations I found. I could have
used that time, if I really wanted to file complaints, to gather proof to
support my claims. He might have mentioned
HomeFirst’s violations were not time-sensitive and probably not all that
significant. I was, after all, just a small-time
whistleblower.
Moral judgments form not in a reasonable head but out of
emotion[3]. Likewise, whistleblowing cases are dirtied by
emotions on both sides. If the student
had been bullied by the three cheats earlier, he might never have sent Appiah his
letter. He might have decided he’d found
the opportunity he was looking for.
Companies usually claim the whistleblower is unclean. He is disgruntled and sullied by poor
performance. HomeFirst’s response to my
complaint also said I wanted to bring the
company down by blowing the whistle.
The State’s determination
letter accepted HomeFirst’s claim: I did not act based on good faith belief. I did not perform in the company’s interest.
You can suspect that destructive desire in some big-time
whistleblowers. Sometimes the perceived
violation seems so enormous the organization must be torn down before things
can be righted. Enron and WorldCom rightly fell to
ashes. Chelsea Manning and Edward Snowden hoped to
upset broad swaths of government.
In my case, and I suspect many others’, what sparked whistleblowing was ire directed not at the company, but at one particular
person. Company misbehavior provided a
context, but my whistleblowing would not have happened without that special
person.
Jenny
Niklaus arrived after we had reduced the number of employees by 40% trying
to put HomeFirst on a solid financial footing.
She appeared to be the best of three CEO candidates. She was bubbly and cried at the plight of
homeless people.
In 2010, Niklaus’ first full year as CEO, HomeFirst
lost $1.8 million (before gains on the sale of assets). I suggested we’d have to trim more expenses,
but we didn’t. It lost
$.4 million in 2011, $1.1 million in 2012
and $1.6
million in 2013. Donor contributions
continued to drop. I said more firmly we
needed to cut expenses. We had nasty
exchanges over the 2014 budget when I again recommended cuts without effect. I said we could run out of cash, but she was
unmoved. A former development director
reminded me, she’s
an idiot, you know.
I thought I would win as the company’s financial
position visibly worsened. When violations
started piling up, I expected I would surely win. I thought, wrongly, the board would fire her,
not me.
Her laziness annoyed me.
She was inept and frustrated me.
She refused to fix anything; she pissed me off. She inspired my whistleblowing when I
witnessed HomeFirst’s violations. That’s
the way I see it.
It’s hard to be sure my sense of how people become
whistleblowers – our unhappiness opens us to report misdeeds when we observe
them – is generally true. It seems to
describe how Debra
Halbrook was launched after she was offended by her boss.
Then there’s Francisco
Alsonso, a West Palm Beach (FL) police lieutenant. He started blowing the whistle after he was
reprimanded for not stopping a fellow officer from driving while
intoxicated. Ann
Tarafas and Elizabeth Fox worked as paraprofessionals in a financially
troubled Pennsylvania charter school.
They didn’t like cuts and reassignments the principal made, so they
complained. Dr. Julian
Craig, a former chief medical officer, had a gripe over his pay on the way
to testifying to District of Columbia lawmakers about the hospital’s problems.
Ethicists have suggested that whistleblowers should be pure
of heart and resist desire for revenge[4]. But employment-at-will ended company loyalty
as reason for hesitating to blow the whistle.
Then government-sponsored rewards
for reporters quashed assumptions about our pure hearts.
The new world is messy.
We report perceived wrongs with much or little pause. We blow our whistles on a variety of
sites. Damning documents are
uploaded. Complaints fly over Facebook, blogs,
and tweets. Criticisms posted on Yelp,
Trip Advisor, and any number of other media routinely call out our
disappointments.
The realm of Appiah’s innocent student is attractive but not
easily located.
[1]
The sex of the student was not stated.
[2]
See, for example, Hoffman,
Michael W. and Mark S. Schwartz. “The
Morality of Whistleblowing: A Commentary on Richard T. De George.” Journal of Business Ethics 127 (2015):771-781; and Bok, Sisella. “Whistleblowing
and Professional Responsibility.” New York University Education Quarterly 11.4 (1980): 2-10
[3] Haidt, Jonathan. “The Emotional Dog and Its Rational Tail: A
Social Intuitionist Approach to Moral Judgment.” Psychological Review 108.4 (2001): 814-834
[4] Bouville,
Mathieu. “Whistle-blowing
and morality.”
Journal of Business Ethics. 81.3
(September 2008): 579-585;
Hoffman and Schwartz, ibid; Bok, ibid.
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