Loyal Opposition Beats In-House Sabotage

In a world of hype, the idea of enabling or ennobling a loyal opposition must appeal to institutions as much as modern fashion welcomes spats, corsets, or chivalry – all emblems of a bygone age as popular today as affirmations like groovy, far out, and hubba-hubba. Consider, however, whether a defender would rather contend with a saboteur or with a declared member of a loyal opposition, and whether the suppression of the latter might not nourish the rise of the former.

What is a loyal opposition anyway? In countries with parliamentary government, it is parties or members of parties who, having lost the contest to seat a prime minister or form a cabinet which will take up the reins of legitimate power, nevertheless recognize the legitimacy of ruling competitors in the shared interest of mutually discharging the responsibilities of government. A loyal opponent, a loyal opposition, maintains differences of opinion and belief and approach, challenging the ruling office-holders or ascendant coalition, but without turning every disagreement into an epic battle. A proper loyal opposition works within the system, recognizing the enlightened self-interest of accepting a weaker position in graceful stride, with the anticipation of one day expecting equivalent courtesy when the tables turn and power shifts in the opposite direction. At its best, then, loyal opposition keeps the dominant power in check while respecting common ground and shared objectives. In government, as in any gathering of mortals, the theory outshines the practice. Thus, what may purport to be a loyal opposition may easily descend into a thinly veiled cabal of cutthroats espousing unified effort only when on parade before the news media. Otherwise, this opposition may well give itself over to plot and demonizing of adversaries. As long as the opposition maintains even a modicum of regard for appearances, evincing an interest in keeping at least an outward semblance of ostensible interest in honoring fiduciary obligations, it remains more likely to defend the institution than any outright saboteur.

Let us shift gears, now, to see how popular sources of likely insider threats would identify their camp within an institution. Saboteur or loyal opposition? I suspect that even the most virulent thorns in the side of any institution would hesitate to call themselves saboteurs. The union representatives whose rise to power follows serial victories in negotiating more privileges for less work invariably characterize themselves as advocates who care just as much for the employer as anyone else. How does management see them? Officially, of course, wise managers concede that their union counterparts offer a beneficial advocacy. Unofficially? Most see the union as an inveterate saboteur more interested in perquisites than in performance. What about whistleblowers? They see themselves as unsung, lone heroes out for justice in a harsh, callous world. Their bosses see them as malcontents who favor the tantrum as an alternative to doing a job they dislike. The same may be said of internal watchdogs, including ombudsmen, auditors, ethics, and other compliance officers. One side interprets the adversary position as appropriate or even altruistic, while the other sees it as obstructive and invariably self-serving. Which is right? Both and neither.

In the context of insider threat defense, the desired end state arrives when both camps can view each other as members of a loyal opposition. There is no precise formula for making this happen, but a No Dark Corners approach to greater transparency and a shared stake in the success and survival of the institution certainly can’t hurt. In order for such an approach to work best, it must be inculcated at the start of employment and be integral to the institution, rather than an appliqué. Otherwise, elements of artificiality intrude, and the shared stake never quite builds on a sound foundation of trust. The appliqué technique fuels suspicions. Each side suspects the other of ulterior motives and at least one side withholds information or chooses to advance its members’ personal interests at the expense of others. Put everyone in the same boat, with the same view of gale force winds, however, and gone is the debate about whether to paddle for shore. Achieving this shared state takes bold leadership, but not uncharted excursions. Robert Townsend achieved such a state in turning around Avis over a generation ago, revealing his methods in Up the Organization. The pre-Fiorina, pre-Hurd, pre-me-too, committee-driven Hewlett Packard (HP) operated this way in its early years as well. HP was famous for inspiring the kind of loyalty that left its former employees misty and nostalgic about working for that Silicon Valley pioneer and being happier though less compensated (to the tune of $20,000 lower salary than competitors might pay for professionals in the 1980s).

Loyal opposition gives proper vent to the irreducible rascality of humans in any shared environment. If there is a channel for expressing contrary notions, getting attention to problems, and still feeling like part of the team with an equal share in advancing with the larger organization, there become fewer reasons and soon fewer places to hide in dark corners to plot ways to sabotage the institution. But loyal opposition takes loyalty, and loyalty means trust. Trust and loyalty, then, inoculate the organization against insider sabotage. Old notions though they may be, such things may yet resurface, like the tendency of fashions to reabsorb old elements every 30 years. How should the defender against insider threats react to such phenomena? Hubba-hubba.

— Nick Catrantzos