You know you’ve struck a nerve in business when a billion-dollar competitor sends you a ten-page legal letter trying to scare you off. I still remember opening that email overseas at seven in the morning, reading accusation after baseless accusation, and realising we had rattled them. We were small, barely making a couple of hundred thousand dollars, yet here was a global player calling our bluff. I called theirs instead, and not only did they back down, but years later, they were the ones asking for our help. That’s when it really sank in: in business, you can bluff, but you’d better be ready to show your hand, because if you don’t have the substance to back it up, you’ll get found out.
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That thread of ethics and substance over short-term profit runs through almost every turning point I’ve seen in the boardroom. Too often, leaders get caught up in the numbers, chasing EBITDA or top-line growth at any cost, and they forget that reputation and people are the real engines of sustainable value. Short-term wins look good on paper, but if they come at the expense of trust, integrity, or culture, you’re really just mortgaging the future.
Take the time, a CEO we were targeting for business crossed a line with a young member of my team. On paper, signing that company would have been a breakthrough. But when it became clear he was trying to use a potential deal as cover for personal behaviour, I cancelled the meeting on the spot. My colleague was relieved, and that decision sent a message that still pays dividends: we won’t take money from people who cross ethical lines. When you back your team like that, they’ll back you tenfold.
I’ve also seen the same principle play out in product recalls. One client faced a decision when a piece of telecommunications equipment wasn’t working as it should. The risk to human safety was almost zero, the profit impact of fixing it was marginal, but the real question was reputation. Do you sweep it under the rug, or do you own it? The board chose to front up, recall the product, and fix it. In the end, not only was their reputation protected, but it was also enhanced. Customers could see that the company cared more about doing right by them than protecting short-term profit, and that loyalty paid off in spades.
Contrast that with another case, where ambition overtook principle. A board approved a five-year strategic plan, only to panic when earnings fell short in year one. Instead of backing management through the natural cycle of investment and growth, they bowed to internal politics. The CEO was ousted, a director with his eye on the role stepped in, and the company never recovered. The plan hadn’t changed; only the leadership had, but the culture and trust were destroyed. It was a clear reminder that if you abandon your own commitments at the first sign of trouble, you erode the very foundation of credibility.
Loose lips are another common trap. I watched a listed company blow up a potential acquisition simply because someone couldn’t resist leaking the deal. The short-term share price bump looked good for a day or two, but when the bidder walked away, the stock crashed harder than before and shareholder confidence evaporated. In situations like that, the urge to play tactical games is strong, but discipline and discretion are what actually create long-term value.
And then there are the more colourful cautionary tales, like the tech founder who built a nightclub inside his office. Top-shelf whiskey, French wine, a full-time barista–bartender, all funded by shareholders. It looked flashy, but when COVID hit and staff were working from home, the bar gathered dust while the business struggled. The money that could have gone into product, people, or customer experience had been poured down the drain, literally. Eventually, the company was taken over for a fraction of its IPO value. It was a textbook example of ego and indulgence trumping good judgment.
Even in my own business, I had to make tough calls. Early on, turning down a contract would have meant giving up nearly a quarter of our revenue. But when a potential client made an offhand racist remark, I walked away. It was a simple decision, really. If you don’t draw the line somewhere, you end up complicit in behaviour that undermines your own values and your team’s trust in you.
One of the most rewarding examples came later, when I put in place an equity plan for my senior team. Some people thought I was crazy to give them equity just as I was negotiating a sale. But I had given them my word, and they deserved it. It meant they shared directly in the upside when the deal closed, and more importantly, it showed them that promises made are promises kept. That’s the kind of culture you can’t fake, and it made the whole business stronger right up to the exit.
The longer I’ve been in business, the more I’ve come to see ethics as the only real litmus test. Whenever you’re unsure, just ask yourself: if this decision were on the front page tomorrow, would I stand by it? If the answer is no, then don’t do it. It might cost you in the short term, but in the long run, ethics always trump profit. Every single time.
If you take nothing else from my stories, let it be that. You can bluff, posture, or play games, but they all catch up with you. What lasts is reputation, integrity, and the trust you build with your people, your customers, and your shareholders. That’s what sustains growth, that’s what attracts opportunity, and that’s what lets you sleep well at night knowing you did the right thing.
If any of this struck a chord, I’d love to keep the conversation going. Grab me for a chat after the session or over a coffee sometime. These aren’t abstract theories; they’re lived experiences, and sharing them with peers is where the real learning happens.