Whistleblowers and Jumpers

Whistleblowers and Jumpers

Mike Lewis has written a book of encouragement for employees who are dissatisfied in their jobs and may hesitate to start something new: When to Jump: If the Job You Have Isn’t the Life You Want.  Lewis tells the stories of 45 people, including him, who jumped to new careers.  Results varied, but all were happy in their decisions, unlike some who plunge into whistleblowing.

A Voice

Whistleblowers and Lewis’ jumpers follow a similar path.  They begin with some dissatisfaction in their organization.  Jumpers describe an internal impulse.  For some it’s a calling, a voice, or an instinct that draws them toward something new or old.  They feel no joy in what they’re doing and believe their real passion lies elsewhere.  Or they hate being told to do one thing when all along they have wanted something different.  Whatever the impetus, a moment arrives when they know it’s time to leave, Lewis says.

For those who disclose misdeeds, motivation emerges in two phases.  First comes a personal discontent.  Maybe with a boss, an expected advancement, or pay.  Or maybe it becomes obvious a career is not going to be as great as hoped for.  For the first time they are willing to care about organizational misbehavior.

Then an external reason for revolt appears.  Something might have seemed entirely normal before, but now it offends.  Maybe the violation of some policy, law, or moral standard.  Afterward, like jumpers, they remember the incident as something that could be not ignored.  A voice, perhaps, announces the behavior is just wrong.  It must stop.

A Plan

After jumpers hear that little voice, Lewis says, the next step is to make a plan.  When Lewis planned his own jump from investment banking to playing pro squash, he saved money, recruited sponsors, and cultivated contacts.  He trained hard and developed his college level skill to that of a professional.  He entered tournaments while still working for Bain & Co.  Through all this he learned what he would face in his new life.

Whistleblowers plan for the first half of their project.  Once they observe the wrong, they start considering what to do about it.  They document the misdeed.  They study what rule is violated.  They talk with others about the problem to make sure their understanding is correct.  They calculate how best to disclose the activity internally and then externally.

Rarely, though, do whistleblowers plan for what comes next.  They do not anticipate the personal fallout from retaliation.  And they do not come close to anticipating their loss of future income.  Instead they believe the promised protections and hope for advertised rewards.  They underestimate how long the fight will take and how hard it will be to get their lives back in order.  Like Edward Snowden, they get to Hong Kong all right, but the on-going travel is problematic.

Expect Luck

When to Jump is a book of confidence-building. If you jump one way today, you can jump back or another way tomorrow.  Lewis’ own story is built around a leap into globe-trotting athletic competition, which lasted just eighteen months.  Now he has a burgeoning When to Jump business.  Things work out for jumpers.

His book is filled with bright young people who graduated from great schools, who have helpful connections, and for whom luck is built into the system.  So Lewis is probably justified in recommending his readers trust their impulses.  One interviewee, author Michael Lewis (no relation), assures us, “I knew as long as I allowed myself to be lucky, I would find some money on the ground.”

Whistleblowers traverse a different terrain.  We don’t count on luck.  We expect to succeed because we are right.

We may be uncertain whether what we’ve seen is a legal violation, but we know we have every right to call it out.  When I began disclosing the HomeFirst behavior that I thought was illegal, I recognized that some enforcement agencies might favor the company even if the offenses were obvious.  I believed the licensing, bid-collusion, and payroll tax and minimum wage issues were violations, but I was not certain.  Home First’s unjust retaliation, though, was absolutely clear to me.

While our situations differ, the thrust of Lewis’ advice applies to both jumpers and whistleblowers.  Whether making a jump to a new career or blowing a whistle, we cannot nail down every future possibility.  We cannot eliminate all uncertainty.  After we feel that first impetus and do the planning we can, it is time to act.  Maybe first in a small way, but act.

Don’t Look Back

Because our ventures are uncertain, we may not be successful in the way we first envisioned.  Lewis advises that even failure will move us closer to our ultimate goals.  We learn new skills, see new possibilities, and break free of old constraints.  The jump worked out well for him, and he encourages us to imagine the worst that can happen if we act.  It’s probably not so bad, he declares.

But that is not quite true for whistleblowers.  Sometimes whistleblowing can produce disastrous results.  Some are locked out of their careers, end their marriages, and lose their homes.  Some are threatened with jail time and financial penalties.  Outcomes can be terrible, especially if we plan poorly.

My whistleblowing at HomeFirst ended my career.  I lost maybe $50,000 in salary and legal costs.  I accomplished nothing.  But as Lewis advises, I should compare my end to what life would have been if I had not acted.  On that basis, I am satisfied enough.  I was happy to be done with people I considered deceitful and unethical.  I am relieved I rejected HomeFirst’s settlement agreement; I would have always regretted the cheap sellout and enforced silence. 

If we can limit the punishment from our losing ventures, the worst possible case may be manageable, at least for us small-time whistleblowers.  We might not achieve all we hoped for, but we will live.  We can try again if we want.

Lewis ends his book with a story: he is flying over South America on his way home at the end of his tour.  The guy next to him speaks with a cowboy accent.  Evil ain’t about murder or cheating, he advises Lewis.  True evil, he says, is when someone or someplace takes your agency.

By blowing the whistle, we may be able to hold what is truly ours.