Ethical Leadership -
What Happens When You Say No To The Boss?
Before We Begin
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Sorry, here’s a little rant
The overwhelming focus around me is on politics. That happens when you live in a country whose large and powerful neighbour makes a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde impression, shapeshifting from ally to adversary overnight. It’s weird, it’s frightening, and it pisses people off when the President of the US tells us that our country isn’t a real country and should become the fifty-first state. We’re both NATO allies, but when making this statement during a media photo op with NATO’s Secretary General and the latter remains silent, it really pisses me off! Hopefully, the diplomatic back channels are open and working and will soon help cooler, clearer heads prevail before too much damage is done.
Rant over. The rest of this post is, I promise, all about ethical leadership. Obviously, that means there will be no more mention of politics or politicians.
Ethical Leadership -
What Happens When You Say No To The Boss?
What would you do if your boss asked you to do something that felt… off?
Would you push back? Stay silent? Or find a way to navigate the situation without burning bridges?
Early in my career, I faced this dilemma firsthand. My decision—to say no—was met with an unexpected reaction that taught me a lifelong lesson in ethical leadership.
Here’s what happened.
When the Boss Wanted Me to Steal
In the summer of 1987, I took a pay cut and landed my dream job. I quit the relatively enjoyable yet slightly repetitious and boring job of cinema movie ticket taker so I could become a low-paid security guard in a five-star hotel.
Maybe it wasn’t my dream job on paper, but the hotel was owned by an airline, and I wanted to work in travel. Preferably at an airport where, if I played my cards right, I would be allowed to drive one of those little trucks that pull baggage carts to and from aircraft on the tarmac. I believe my affinity for the carts was linked to the fact that they were the only thing I could draw that slightly resembled the subject matter I was drawing. That got me through grade 4 art class and led to my lifelong love for those tiny trucks, which, unfortunately, today, are much more difficult to draw.
Anyhoo, I applied, was rejected, and finally accepted the security guard job after the only other applicant turned it down. (You can read more about that here.)
The security manager was, based on my three-month experience as a ticket taker in a movie theatre, exactly as expected. During my interview, he said he only had three demands for new employees; they needed to be honest, sober, and loyal.
It was a Sunday afternoon in June, about three weeks after I started when the manager appeared in the security office service window where employees collected and returned their keys. It was right near the personnel entrance, and thanks to our amazing, grainy, black-and-white surveillance system, we could almost recognize the employees as they approached and have their keys ready when they arrived. We usually didn’t have the keys ready either because we didn’t recognize them, because we were lazy, or both.
If he had come through the employee entrance, I would have recognized the his characteristic gait when he approached, but like any good department head in the good ol’ days, using the personnel entrance, although mandatory for all, was far beneath him.
“My kid brought my grandkids over and I don’t have anything for them to do. Go to the storeroom and get me a roll of paper and a box of felt pens.”
“Sure, here’s a requisition. Just fill it out and sign it.”
“Don’t be stupid. Just go get what I need.”
I reminded him that he had told me I was required to be loyal, honest, and sober on the job.
“I’m loyal to our policies and I honestly can’t take things from the storeroom without a signed requisition.”
He fumed, and I thought I was going to be fired for insubordination. To save my job, I did something stupid and told him I was just about to leave on my inspection which would start on the 23rd floor, cover the entire hotel, and, give or take, mean I would be out of the office for at least an hour. I’d already done my rounds, so I went to the canteen, drank coffee and waited 30 minutes. There was no audit trail on the storeroom lock or alarm, and the door was not under surveillance. I didn’t check the tapes for the garage to see how full his arms were when he loaded his car.
Saying No to a 50% Raise
Two years later, I said No to the boss again. He invited several security officers on a boat excursion on Oslofjord. I said yes to that, of course, because I knew there would be free beer.
Out in the middle of the fjord, the captain/security manager cut the engine. He told us he had a secret to share with us and we, his chosen few, were the only ones he was going to share it with.
“I’ve accepted the security manager role at the new hotel in the city. They are paying me way more than here. I told my boss I would stay if he matched the offer. He told me if money was that important to me, I should leave. Just shows how cheap they are.”
Then he told us that we were his chosen few because he wanted us to quit and join him at the new hotel where our base pay would increase by fifty percent.
Yippee!, said my colleagues.
“No thanks, I’ll stay.” Since our hotel was owned by an airline, we had travel benefits that meant more to me than money. (It was also clear to me that the new hotel would have to cut corners and charge outrageous prices. The market wouldn’t absorb that, so the high salary was likely a ploy to grab great employees, many of who would likely be laid off when economic and operational realities set in.)
I thought my boss was going to throw me overboard. He couldn’t believe I turned him down and said he should have known better than to invite me. He said he regretted not picking someone who would have been more loyal to him.
Thankfully, I was allowed to stay on the boat until we reached shore although nobody really wanted to talk to me. I didn’t dare grab a beer in case they were for Plaza-people only.
Silver Linings - Part 1
This story has several silver linings. Since almost everyone above me left, I advanced a few pegs up the seniority list and was promoted to Assistant Security Manager. About five years after they opened, the new hotel was sold off and joined our chain. By this time, I had become head of corporate security and almost became my old boss’s new boss. He retired a few months before the handover.
Saying No to the CEO’s Best Friend
One of the great features of my corporate role was the opportunity to visit our many new projects throughout Europe, the Middle East, and Africa. In 1997, we had a project to renovate and rebrand a hotel in Amman, Jordan. It was a challenging project with an impossibly short schedule. A few months after a deal was signed with the owners, the hotel would host the CEOs of many airlines for the annual International Air Transport Association summit. The CEO of the company that owned our company would be there, too. Everything needed to be perfect before the summit.
It wasn’t going to be.
About a month before the event, I was in my office in Oslo when I received a call from my boss in Brussels. He was SVP of Technical Services, responsible for all the construction and renovation projects.
“You need to go to Amman tomorrow and let me know if we can brand the hotel.”
I arrived at the hotel and, as expected, it was still more of a construction site than a hotel. I knew my boss had just been there, so I phoned him up and asked him if sending me there was some kind of stupid joke.
“No, I knew you’d say the hotel wasn’t ready. Don’t worry about it. Mr. K. is coming to Amman this afternoon. Go for a nice walk and enjoy the city. Meet him in the lobby at 4:30 and tell him what you told me.
1997 Amman was a nice, if not necessarily walkable city, but I did stroll up the hill from the airport and found a pleasant local café. As I returned down the hill toward the hotel, I saw a crane hoisting the big Radisson SAS sign that would run up the entire side of the twelve-story hotel.
I phoned my boss and informed him that the wool was being pulled over his eyes and that the hotel was already being branded.
“Don’t worry, we have a plan for that.”, he said. “Just meet Mr. K. and tell him what you told me.”
Mr. K., the COO and the President’s right-hand man, was a legend. He was known to be a brilliant, yet very strict, leader.
While waiting, I was shaking nervously and praying that my deodorant would hold up.
Mr. K. was Swiss, and arrived promptly at 4:30.
We sat in the lobby bar. At first he was very pleasant. Nice to meet you. I heard lots about you, etc. Then his demeanor changed and, in a demanding voice I’d heard others tell scary stories about, he asked, or rather commanded:
“This hotel is ready to be branded, right?”
I looked at him incredulously.
“No. It’s not even close.”
“But we already hung the sign today. We have to brand the hotel.”
A discussion ensured and, no thanks to me it turned into a bit of an argument. He angrily asked me questions like;
“Who said you can make these decisions?”
“What do you know about these things?”
“How come you think you know more than everyone else in the company?”
I was starting to worry that I might have to walk home from Amman as an unemployed former employee when Mr. K’s facial expression changed again.
There was a twinkle in his eye and a big smile spread across his face.
Then he leaned back and started laughing.
I thought he might be having a breakdown and hoped perhaps the General Manager, who was observing us from the construction site that was a few weeks away from becoming the lobby bar.
Mr. K. regained his composure and said.
“Thank you, Paul. I had to check. There are so many bloody yes-men in this company, I just needed to find out if you were one of them!”
With a herculean effort that included drafting in star employees from sister hotels in Sharm El Sheikh, Kuwait, Copenhagen, and Brussels, the hotel opened safely, and in time for a very successful conference. Granted, some of the more superficial things weren’t ready. The bar, for example, lacked décor and a brand a few days before opening. The GM called the marketing people at the airline that owned the hotel group. 24 hours later. a shipment of old uniforms, model planes, and vintage posters arrived. The uniforms were put on mannequins, the posters plastered on the walls, and the model planes decorated once-empty shelves. The bar was named Wings and was a roaring success!
What was the plan for the sign that was hung too early, you ask? The morning after my meeting with Mr. K., a gigantic Jordanian flag adorned the side of the building and completely hid the sign. It remained in place until the hotel was officially opened!
Later in my career, Mr. K., now in a role as Special Advisor to the President and CEO, formally became my boss. He was the most demanding yet supportive leader I reported to. Although I was perplexed at the time, I’m forever grateful for his yes-man test!
Did you ever say no to your boss for ethical reasons to protect your integrity? What happened? I’d love to hear your stories!
Stay safe, Always Care
Postscript: On November 9, 2005, terrorists simultaneously attacked a wedding at the Radisson SAS Hotel in Amman, a bar at the Grand Hyatt Amman, and the Days Inn Hotel in the city. In total, sixty people were killed. I spend time remembering friends and colleagues whose lives were tragically changed forever that day. This year is the twentieth anniversary of the deadly attacks.
Hi! I’m Paul. I was born, raised, and currently live in Canada. After high school, I embarked on a gap year in Europe. It lasted four decades. I went to university in Norway and started my hotel career in the basement of a five-star hotel in Oslo. The manager who hired me told me I was too old, too educated, and had too many opinions to be a security guard. He also told me that the only other person who applied for the job didn’t want it.
Thirty years later, I left that same company. It had grown from a small regional hotel chain in Scandinavia to become a large, global, multi-brand company. I moved from Norway to Denmark to Belgium. The company awarded me their highest individual honour for leadership, and security professional peers selected me as the world’s most influential corporate security executive.
I’m a hospitality professional. I’m a security professional. If you ask, I will tell you that security was my job, and hospitality was my business.
Today, I’m an educator and a consultant passionate about hotels, hospitality, and keeping people safe during their travels.
In addition to the Always Care Community, I also write for Risk Resiliency’s Keep Travel Safe. If safe, secure hospitality, hotels, and travel are important to you, please follow us there!
Written with the clarity of hindsight, the accuracy of a faded memory, and countless creative liberties, this is a newsletter of how life has made me an emigrant, an immigrant, and gifted me experiences I never dreamed possible.
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