All the NEDs at our ‘Senior Management in Crisis’ forum agreed that the scenario – an anonymous email making serious allegations against the CEO and CFO – was a daunting prospect. One of our guests, Julia Klein from Kekst CNC captured some of the themes…
The most dangerous moments in a boardroom rarely begin with a bang. More often, they arrive quietly, over a weekend, in an email nobody wanted to read.
That was the premise of a recent forum hosted by NEDs in FS and Dentons, which explored what happens when serious allegations land at the feet of a board. The discussion brought together perspectives from law, communications and the boardroom itself, with insights from Katherine Harle of Dentons, Claire Maloney of Kekst CNC and Tracy Dunley-Owen, a highly experienced serial non-executive director.
But beneath the legal mechanics sat a simpler truth: crises test more than governance. They test temperament.
One theme came up again and again during the evening. A crisis is not business as usual, just with louder voices. It changes the physics of decision-making. Time compresses. Information becomes patchy. Emotions creep in through the side door. Directors who spend most of their careers discussing strategy suddenly find themselves debating evidence preservation late into the night.
The instinct, naturally, is to move fast. The better advice was to move with “controlled urgency”. The distinction matters. Panic can be just as damaging as paralysis. Several participants noted that boards often create their own problems by rushing to conclusions before the facts are established. Allegations are not findings. Fairness, to whistleblowers, employees and the accused alike, remains essential, even under pressure.
At the same time, caution cannot become inertia. In regulated industries, particularly financial services, boards are judged less on whether problems emerge and more on how they respond once they do. Regulators tend to tolerate bad news more readily than evasiveness, drift or disorder. Early decisions carry disproportionate weight: who is informed first, how small the initial circle remains, whether documentation is preserved and whether independent advice is sought quickly enough. These procedural details often become the real story later.
Another theme was isolation. Non-executives can find themselves dangerously alone in the early hours of a crisis, particularly when allegations involve senior executives or powerful personalities. The consensus in the room was clear: isolation is a risk. Good governance depends on building a credible decision-making group early, while still maintaining confidentiality. Board dynamics matter enormously here. In difficult moments, personal anxieties, reputational fears and old loyalties have a habit of resurfacing.
Culture also hung over the discussion. Serious misconduct rarely appears entirely without warning. Toxic behaviour, intimidation and silence tend to leave traces long before formal allegations arrive. Several attendees observed that whistleblowing complaints often reveal not a single incident, but an institutional failure to listen.
Communications featured heavily too. Modern crises no longer unfold in neat stages. Internal rumours can become external stories within hours. Employees are stakeholders, broadcasters and investigators all at once. Silence creates its own vacuum. The challenge for boards is to communicate seriousness without prejudgment, a balance that is far easier described than achieved.
There was also a striking degree of realism in the room. Investigations are expensive. Independence matters, but so does practicality. Boards have to balance containment with fairness, urgency with due process, and reputational protection with transparency. None of these trade-offs comes neatly packaged. Even well-run organisations can find themselves navigating allegations they never saw coming.
The evening closed on a practical note. Every director, one participant argued, should keep a “little black book” of trusted advisers: lawyers, communications specialists, investigators and peers. Not because crises are inevitable, but because, increasingly, they are becoming part of ordinary corporate life.
And perhaps that was the forum’s sharpest insight. Corporate crises are rarely defined by the original allegation alone. They are defined by whether the people in charge can stay calm enough to think clearly while the ground shifts beneath them.
Julia Klein, Marketing Director, Kekst CNC
You can read the scenario we discussed here: NEDs in FS: Scenario