The Young Reformer

''Before I worked with Paul I had never met a psychopath, at least not knowingly. If you had asked me what psychopaths were like I would have described the cliches we see in films like Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs, or one of the real-life psychopaths that have been so prominent in world history like Stalin, Pol Pot or Saddam Hussain. I had no idea that a psychopath can seem, until you get to really know them, completely normal.

 

At interview Paul was impressive. Among the four executives we had shortlisted for CEO of the small company where I am the non-executive chair, he was without doubt the standout candidate. Everyone on the selection panel was in agreement on this, even though Paul had the least experience in the area we operate in: partly because at 35 he was younger than the others by at least a decade, but also because his quick career rise had been mostly overseas, in areas related to ours, but not closely so.

 

Why, then, did we choose him above the others? They were experienced and clearly capable, but they were unexciting. They would run the company as it was, we thought, but were unlikely to take it forwards with dynamism and imagination. Although the outgoing CEO was able, he had been in post for a long time and the company had begun to stagnate. We were looking for someone with the vision and ability to modernise it.

 

Paul spoke quietly but with poise, fluently describing a compelling vision for how he would take the company forwards. Highly intelligent, he was also modest, and refreshingly lacking in ego. We were excited to see what this talented young man would bring to the company.

 

He made a strong start. The systems were ‘dysfunctional’, he said, and he set about replacing them with new systems that looked much slicker. He didn’t always consult before making changes, and he ruffled some feathers both among the executive and among board members, but we put that down to the effect of his dynamism in a culture that had perhaps become too complacent. That was how he saw it, at least. He found fault with some of the longer-serving staff, who were encouraged to retire early or to move on. The board didn’t seriously question this sweep-out: it was good to see the effects of his fresh energy and apparently high standards.

 

Then things started to turn. There was an unfortunate personality clash between Paul and Simon, the very bright, very loyal but socially awkward head of finance. This simmered for a while and culminated with Paul putting Simon straight onto a final warning for a minor misstep with a client. It went to a non-exec board appeal panel who decided to reduce this to a more appropriate first warning.

 

Evidently distressed by the whole process, Simon made some alarming claims about Paul’s behaviour, which he said was consistently manipulative. He thought that Paul had been trying to get rid of him from the moment he had arrived but he didn’t know why. It was as if Paul had a private reason that he wasn’t sharing. Simon had been confused by this and had been thinking it over and over to try to understand if he had done or said something that offended Paul without realising. He couldn’t think of anything. It was as if he had underperformed when it was evident he hadn’t. 

 

I took these claims up with Paul. Looking completely unfazed, he smiled and gave a smooth explanation about how difficult Simon was to work with.

 

Gradually more trouble surfaced. The heads of division reported to me that Paul was untrustworthy: that he was prone to misrepresenting what they had done or said. People felt undermined. In every meeting and conversation he seemed to have an agenda, but it was never clear what it was. Middle managers complained that he micro-managed them, but kept changing the success criteria, so they were left wondering if they had misunderstood what was expected. He gave directly contradictory instructions to different people, which had the effect of causing confusion and distrust between them

 

Here’s how one head of division explained Paul’s way of working: “Paul called me to a meeting and told me what he wanted me to do, giving specific KPIs (Key Performance Indicators). So I set to work on delivering those. Then I discovered that the people working under me were working to different KPIs that Paul had given them without telling me. I asked a colleague who was supposed to be answering to me as his line manager what was going on: why was he working to different figures? He told me that Paul had contacted him, given him instructions (these were significantly different to those he had given me) and told him to answer directly back to Paul. I was stunned. Paul was playing us off against each other. My colleague was embarrassed. He had felt uncomfortable answering to Paul behind my back. But Paul was the boss and he felt he had no choice. Paul has on purpose annihilated my authority with those I manage.”

 

The atmosphere among the staff at the central office changed. Previously, they had got on well and knew what they were doing; now, everyone seemed on edge, anxious. Valued staff left, saying the company no longer felt a safe place to work.

 

I decided I had to intervene. I called together the middle management to ask about their experiences. What followed was an alarming litany of complaints about Paul: he was manipulative, dishonest, coldly threatening. Employees felt their jobs were unsafe. Before this meeting they hadn’t shared these stories with each other because no-one had dared speak, unsure who they could trust. He had somehow created an atmosphere of fear throughout the entire organisation.

 

I instigated a disciplinary hearing and presented Paul with this damning evidence of the impact of his leadership. Unmoved, he denied he was at fault in any way. He said that far from being a bully he was himself the victim of bullying by me and other board members. This sudden reversal disorientated me for a moment, leaving me wondering if I had misjudged the situation.

 

As the disciplinary process unfolded Paul began to behave strangely. He veered between self-pity and insinuating threats, and met every piece of evidence with counter-accusations. The real problem, he claimed with an arrogance that I had not witnessed before, was that the company had been so badly run until he arrived that the staff just weren’t used to being held to high standards like his. If the staff were complaining about him it was just to cover up their own incompetence and lack of professionalism. He argued with plausibility and total conviction.

 

Gradually it became clear that Paul was wholly incapable of acknowledging he was at fault in any way. At first this was bewildering, but once the pattern of evading responsibility by accusing others (sometimes of the very behaviour that he was being disciplined for) became clear to the disciplinary panel, they stopped being wrong footed and became exasperated.

 

Looked at dispassionately, the evidence was clear: Paul was a manipulative, coldly destructive workplace bully whose only interest in every situation was to dominate it. He did this by keeping people confused, off balance, and pitched against each other. Within a few months of arriving he had destroyed the company’s culture of loyalty and mutual trust. The whole company had become dysfunctional.

 

Because he was within his probationary period it was possible to move him on, although not without a significant payout.

 

Two years later the company is doing well, but in truth it has still not fully recovered: something valuable in its ethos was destroyed by an encounter with this man. He was so utterly plausible, but in fact unnervingly cold and manipulative.''

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Edward