An interesting discussion took place at TechCrunch about an intern who asked for compensation for a blog post. After an investigation, the intern (who TechCrunch refused initially to identify) was fired and Michael Arrington posted an apology.

The next day, the intern (Daniel Brusilovsky) self-identified on his own blog and also apologized to his family and friends: "To my family, friends, colleagues and especially, TechCrunch, I am sorry. I am taking this entire experience, learning and moving on."

Well handled on everyone's part I think.

What I realized today after reading a New York Times editorial on Goldman Sachs is that many more CEOs in the financial services sector than we care to think, when they're home at night in the dark, are convinced they did nothing wrong.

In fact, they have every intention of taking similar risks again.

Why? Because they presume a fundamental truth: the manipulation of financial products is a necessary - even essential - element in a dynamic economy.  Because they feel they were justified in receiving government bailouts precisely because their financial strategies make the economy hum. Because the personal rewards of successful risk taking are too great. Because boards of directors still believe in their guts the Milton Friedman dictum that "the busines of business is business" and what's good for shareholders (read 'institutions') is good for all of us.

And in our hearts, even after fulsome apologies, promises of reform, compliant acceptance of a few minimal restrictions on bonuses, we know they will not change.

That's why the apologies seem so hollow, why there is such editorializing about whether an apology is enough. It isn't. Because, I hazard to guess, it's likely a lie.

Anyone who has followed my posts on apologies will know how important I feel they are as a way to manage reputation in a crisis. (Forgive the self-reference, but two of the most recent posts can be found here and here.)

A colleague in my firm's Seattle office, Drew Arnold, sent me an article from the Oregon Business Journal referencing a June 2009 discussion paper called 'The Power of Apology' from the University of Nottingham's Centre for Decision Research and Experimental Economics.

Here is the paper's abstract:

After an unsatisfactory purchase, many firms are quick to apologize to customers. It is, however, not clear why they should do that. As the apology is costless, it should be regarded as cheap talk and thus ignored by the customer. In this paper, we test in a controlled field experiment whether apologizing influences customers' subsequent behaviour. We find that apologizing yields much better outcomes for the firm than offering monetary compensation."

Based on a study of customers using eBay in Germany, the study found among other results:

1. "Customers who receive an apology instead of a monetary compensation are more than twice as likely to withdraw a (negative) evaluation."
2. "When money is offered, a higher purchase price makes it less likely that a customer withdraws his (negative) evaluation. An apology works independent of the level of the purchase price."

Why then can't we assume that the propensity to consider legal action when harm has been caused by an accidental event, even if negligence is involved, just might be mitigated by a genuine (and the key here is the word 'genuine') apology?

The legislators in the Canadian province in which I live recently charged the Ontario Securities Commission with reviewing corporate reporting standards in order to establish best practices for disclosure of environmental, social and governance practices. The commission has been asked to report back to the House by January 1st of this year. The announcement warranted only about 125 words in Canada's national newspaper which means it can easily die a languid death.

Behind the order to review disclosure practices (other than the standard opportunism of politicians looking to take personal advantage of a crisis in trust), is acknowledgment that the public and minority shareholders have this indistinct but genuine feeling no one in corporate boardrooms is championing good behaviour.

Never having sat on a corporate board (I have been a director on a hospital foundation board) I have no idea how discussions about things like executive compensation, minority shareholder rights, and environmental and social commitments are raised and debated. Having read Dickens, Marx, Althusser and Levy, and being ready to believe anything Gretchen Morgenson writes about boardroom mischief, I do feel a sort of native mistrust that the impact of a decision or policy on ordinary shareholders or a community ever factors into the colloquy. Worse, I end up silently cheering regulators (although seldom legislators) when they study corporate reporting standards and insist on more transparency, even though I know I shouldn't given the nasty stuff they can foist on business.

By all appearances, I'm not alone in mistrust.

But I also know that many corporate directors are honest and ethical people. They work hard to balance conflicting interests and to do what is right for the company, its shareholders and the community. So let's hope that out of the OSC's review the government doesn't default to punitive regulation. Rather it should encourage board-lead custody of ethical, inclusive and open behaviour. A good start would be to put forward suggestions for ways boards can collect and aggregate meaningful contributions (not just by shareholder resolutions and voting proxies)from people who deserve to have a say in crucial (not all) decisions -- in particular minority shareholders and 'communities of interest'.

Maple Leaf Foods (not a client) today launched a blog in response to the 2008 Listeria deaths caused by eating its deli meats and, as with much of how the company handled the crisis, it is a very good model for the language and tone of effective messaging . . . frank, honest and contrite. (Although its design is quite lackluster.)

The first post is by CEO Michael McCain and here is how it begins: "Since August 2008 twenty-one Canadians have died after eating Maple Leaf deli meats contaminated with Listeria.  We all watched in horror as the worst food safety crisis in modern Canadian history rolled across the country." Now that's frank and the antithesis of how many companies begin apologies after serious events.

Later in the post Mr. McCain writes "This was by far the most awful event in the one hundred year history of our company.  I can’t properly describe the overwhelming sense of grief and
responsibility we all felt … I felt, personally (emphasis added).  You may remember seeing me on
television back then, apologizing for the tragedy and vowing to develop the most
comprehensive anti-Listeria program of any food company in Canada." He then goes on to outline in details the changes Maple Leaf has made to reduce Listeria findings in its plants.

Even more significant he actually raises three subsequent issues related to Maple Leaf Foods' safety performance that most people had likely forgotten.

Textbook . . .