By Enock YEBOAH-MENSAH
Theorhema stood at the end of the mahogany conference table located on the 9th floor of Apogee Bank. The room was eerily silent—no clicking of keys, no rustling of documents. Only an oppressive stillness lingered, heavy with unease and significance.
He scanned the faces of his executive team—the experienced veterans, exceptional thinkers, and reliable tacticians who had assisted him in transforming the bank from a niche lender into a dominant regional power. Nonetheless, over the past half-year, an unsettling shift had occurred.
Staff morale was declining sharply. Output levels had fallen off. It marked the first instance in four years that Apogee’s interim performance failed to meet expectations.
Eventually, it became clear to Theorhema that a single decision set off this decline. This was the cost-reduction measure he had implemented earlier in the year, aimed at eliminating additional employee perks that weren’t detailed in their initial job offers.
No more refills for fuel, no additional data allowances on weekends, no lunches provided—soft benefits like these were being eliminated. “We’re cutting out excess, not essentials,” he assured his team with confidence. “This will boost our efficiency.” At that moment, nobody raised objections.
What They Didn’t Say
Half a year following the cost-reduction mandate, the superficial figures at Apogee Bank started to falter, uncovering a graver, more sinister issue beneath.
At first, absenteeism increased slightly but then gradually climbed; voluntary resignations, which were initially infrequent, turned into a steady flow. Previously a source of pride, customer satisfaction scores dropped consistently from one month to the next.
However, possibly the most concerning change was something impossible to quantify with numbers: apathy. This apathy seeped into the workforce akin to mist—silent, chilling, and immobilizing. Groups that were previously fueled by enthusiasm started merely going through the motions.
Thoughts ran dry, motivation waned, minor duties were postponed, errors piled up, and teamwork weakened. Though nobody voiced it directly, the underlying feeling was evident: “If they show no concern for us, why should we bother with them?”
This outcome did not arise from extensive job cuts or major shifts in policies. Instead, it originated from an unexpectedly minor change: the elimination of relatively insignificant employee perks such as data allowances, meal vouchers, and transportation subsidies. These weren’t part of formal contracts but rather embedded within company culture. Their presence clearly conveyed, “Your efforts are recognized and appreciated.”
The abrupt removal of employee perks, devoid of any recognition or compassion, conveyed an entirely different message: “To us, you’re merely a cost to be minimized.” What made this worse was that those at the top level (the C-suite executives), who had the power to make a difference, were well aware of what was happening yet chose not to act. They observed the whispers during company meetings, the dejected looks in hallways, and the unexpected resignations. However, none of them approached with concern saying, “Let’s discuss this, Theorhema,” driven more by apprehension than anything else.
And within that quietness, trust diminished—not with a roar but profoundly. For in organizational settings, it’s often the subtle shifts rather than the major upheavals that cause the greatest harm.
Occasionally, it is the silent betrayal of principles. The reluctance to voice what needs to be spoken. The most damaging conflicts do not originate in meeting rooms but in instances where those aware of the truth remain utterly silent.
The Hard Conversation
Theorhema swiveled away from the large glass pane, with the urban landscape stretching out behind him, and confronted his executive team.
Once filled with lively strategy discussions, the room now felt weighed down by unease. In a firm yet disappointed tone, his voice pierced through the quiet. “I have a question for all of you,” he began. “After I ordered the reduction of employee benefits, was anyone opposed to this course of action?”
Several people cast furtive glances, while others focused on their notebooks. The atmosphere was silent. “Speak your mind,” he went on, maintaining his steady tone. “Your purpose here isn’t just to agree. It’s to question me, particularly when you think I’m mistaken.”
The CHRO squirmed uncomfortably in her chair before she addressed them with a hushed voice. “There was concern about the impact on morale,” she admitted hesitantly. “But we didn’t wish to appear as though we were opposing your plan for reducing costs.” Theorhema took a moment, allowing his statement to hang heavy in the air. He then responded softly yet assertively, “Is this why nobody raised an alarm when a fire broke out in the corridor? Because you feared offending the architect responsible for designing the building?”
Afterward came an agonized stillness. There were neither counterarguments nor explanations forthcoming. Within this hush lay bare the reality: dread had superseded duty. Those nearest to authority noticed fissures yet opted for silent acquiescence rather than forthright guidance. This instant marked a pivotal juncture for Theorhema. It wasn’t merely a miscalculation regarding policies; it involved nurturing an environment where openness yielded to wariness.
The difficult discussion didn’t result in assigning fault; instead, it fostered fresh insight. Leadership isn’t about possessing every solution. Rather, it’s about establishing an environment where pertinent queries can be posed boldly, courageously, and devoid of apprehension.
The Lecture on Psychological Safety
Theorema allowed the silence to linger before speaking once more. He shifted from his position near the window to take a seat directly opposite his executive team, eschewing both a lectern and formalities. In this moment, as their leader, he faced them with an unflinching gaze, ready to address a difficult reality. “I want you all to know,” he began, his voice steady yet firm, “that I am not angry.”
“But I have my concerns.” He hesitated, his gaze sweeping across the space. “If someone as seasoned and trustworthy as you doesn’t feel secure enough to voice their opinions within this institution, then what does that indicate for the state of Apogee overall?” Nobody had to respond; the gravity of his statement lingered heavily in the atmosphere.
This isn’t an issue of hierarchy,” he went on to say. “This is a matter of psychological safety.
Now they paid closer attention, letting their guard drop. “Your silence wasn’t due to your status. It was because you dreaded the repercussions of being correct while I might have been mistaken.”
Leaning forward with his hands resting on the table, he said, “This type of silence poses a greater threat than anything I could possibly do wrong.” Theorhema wasn’t accusing anyone specifically; instead, he highlighted cultural issues. In this culture, expressing differing opinions feels like an act of rebellion, and fear often carries more weight than evidence. He clarified that psychological security isn’t about feeling comfortable—it’s about having the bravery to speak up without fearing repercussions. This fosters an environment where truths emerge promptly, preventing poor choices from becoming entrenched organizational challenges. “To foster creativity, responsibility, and robustness,” he asserted, “we have to create space for opposing views—not merely among junior staff but also within upper management itself.”
On that particular day, Apogee underwent a transformation—not in their policies, but in their approach. Instead of merely departing with instructions from the leaders, they departed empowered to challenge, question, and voice their opinions freely. For the genuine power of any leadership group doesn’t stem from unanimous agreement; rather, it’s derived from courageous dissent.
Redefining the C-Suite Mandate
Therhema arose once more, now imbued with a serene determination. As he walked through the chamber with the measured step of one who is molding their environment—not out of frustration but from lucidity—he declared, “Starting today, each of your roles carries an implicit directive atop them all: ‘Tell the truth to those in authority.’” He allowed his statement to resonate deeply. These phrases weren’t merely ceremonial—they represented a new interpretation of leadership within Apogee. “Simply aligning yourself with our chief executive doesn’t secure you a place here,” he went on. “Your position is earned only when you make hard decisions during my moments of uncertainty.”
The atmosphere in the room had shifted entirely from one of defenselessness towards deep contemplation. The statements made were not meant as criticisms but rather as an open call toward embracing a more elevated level of leadership. “Your purpose isn’t to shield me personally,” she emphasized. “It’s to safeguard Apogee.” To this group accustomed to navigating through intricate hierarchies with precision, such a change resonated deeply. This wasn’t intended to provoke rebellion simply for opposition’s sake; instead, it underscored collective accountability. True allegiance, they came to understand, requires courage—not unquestioning obedience.
Then Theorhema softened his voice laced with quiet vulnerability. “I do not need perfect people around me,” he said. “I need honest ones.” In that moment, the mandate of the C-Suite changed. It was no longer just about strategy decks, risk assessments, or balance sheets.
It revolved around moral bravery and serving as a reflection for the CEO when their vision becomes clouded under stress. Transforming the C-Suite wasn’t about asserting dominance; rather, it was about fostering collaboration. It involved forming a group capable of informing the CEO candidly—aiming to dress them in reality instead of shaming them. In our intricate modern landscape, having a space filled with silent dissent poses one of the greatest risks for a CEO.
The Shift Begins
Starting from that day, Apogee Bank started feeling like a changed entity. Theorhema’s statements weren’t merely transient instructions; they sparked a transformation that would reshape leadership and organizational culture across all levels.
It began with a straightforward but significant move: Theorhema openly admitted the mistake concerning employee perks. Rather than presenting it as an insignificant blunder, he characterized it as a failure of judgment, which undermined the trust he had strived to establish over time.
He restored the most significant benefits, not due to their contractual obligation but because they had long been ingrained in the bank’s ethos. “These benefits aren’t bonuses,” Theorhema stated during an ensuing town hall meeting. “Instead, they represent our esteem and appreciation for each one of you.”
This public acknowledgement created waves within the company. It wasn’t solely about the advantages; it was also about being accountable. Once the CEO accepted responsibility, it emboldened others to follow suit. Over time, the executive team started behaving distinctively. Discussions became more open and honest.
The questions poured out rapidly and intensely after being previously unvoiced. Disagreeing with Theorhema did not instill any apprehension; rather, it fostered a collective dedication to safeguard the bank’s enduring well-being, even if it required contesting choices made at the highest level.
They discovered that honesty wasn’t a sign of disloyalty; it was an act of leadership. This involved making tough choices, sharing difficult realities, and ensuring decisions aligned with the bank’s fundamental principles rather than merely focusing on immediate objectives.
Once Apogee’s culture leaned toward complacency, but gradually it moved back toward trust. As this trust was rebuilt, performance improved accordingly. Employees ceased merely punching the clock; instead, they returned with renewed belief in the company’s purpose. Their faith in the leadership also grew stronger, recognizing that trust forms the foundation for exceptional outcomes.
Final Reflection
Occasionally, the most expensive choices stem not from lack of knowledge or maliciousness, but from remaining silent.
The overlooked signs, the queries never posed, the realities stifled within meeting rooms where nods from heads mask hesitations in hearts. At Apogee Bank, Theorhema grasped this reality not via any scandal or upheaval, but through a gradual disintegration of spirit and faith—rooted less in actions taken than in words withheld.
This event marked a pivotal moment, both for his leadership style and within the broader awareness of the bank as an organization. It served as a stark reminder that even the most brilliant intellects and soundest plans can falter without openness in communication.
Real leadership isn’t about never erring. Instead, it’s about fostering a setting where people can confidently point out your mistakes without fear. Theorhema understood that courage from those in charge wasn’t merely about taking daring actions; it also involved encouraging fearless truth-telling.
By surrounds himself with individuals possessing the audacity to question rather than merely follow orders. When reframing the responsibilities of executive leaders, his objective extended beyond altering meeting dynamics; he aimed at reshaping the essence of leadership itself—a collective responsibility for honesty instead of an isolated seat of authority. This transition from reticence to fostering psychological security laid the groundwork for Apogee’s revival.
Perhaps this is the ultimate thought: silence might appear as loyalty, yet it frequently functions like betrayal. The most effective method to safeguard an idea is by allowing others to notice its weaknesses promptly, transparently, and fearlessy. For ultimately, the sturdiest groups aren’t formed through consensus; they’re forged from trust, honesty, and the bravery to voice concerns even when it’s difficult.
\xa0The author is a
Strategic Leadership and Financial Aficionado
An individual with an MPhil degree in Finance from the University of Ghana Business School, a member of the Institute of Chartered Accountants Ghana, and more than a decade of experience in banking.
Email:
[email protected]
Provided by SyndiGate Media Inc.
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