How should we talk about Ukraine?

Post #56

May 4, 2022

Claire Bodanis

Claire reflects on how pursuing a clear purpose can guide us through the complexities of doing the right thing about Ukraine.

Two minutes feels like a very long time listening to the whirring of the electric toothbrush, so I while away the time reading whatever my son happens to have left on the bathroom chair. This Sunday, it was The Economist – perfect for the toothbrush moment, because of its back-page obituary which fills those two minutes nicely. If you’re not familiar with it, I urge you to pick up a copy – any copy – and flip to the back page. If I could write the brief for who gets chosen, it would be something like this: a person we’ve probably never heard of who’s nevertheless been part of history in the making. Some of my favourites are the Marlboro Man (you have to be over 40 for that one); Marvin Creamer, the first man to have sailed round the globe without using instruments; Sashimani Devi, the last human consort of the Hindu god Jagannath.

This week’s obituary was Mimi Reinhard, who died on 8 April at the venerable age of 107. You may never have heard of her – I certainly hadn’t – but you’ll no doubt have heard of the list she typed: Schindler’s list. Mimi herself was one of the Schindlerjuden, or ‘Schindler’s Jews’, who were saved from the death camps by the Nazi industrialist, Oskar Schindler.

For those not familiar with the story, towards the end of the Second World War, Schindler, well known as an SS man who numbered many of the Nazi hierarchy amongst his business and drinking companions, compiled a list of essential workers in his factories in Poland to be transferred, ostensibly to make armaments for Germany, to the relative safety of a factory in his hometown in the Sudetenland. These ‘essential workers’ were some 1,200 Jews, including many children, and Schindler spent his entire fortune during the war in bribes to the Nazis to keep his workers safe (and they never did make armaments). His life after the war was not particularly successful, and he died penniless, but Schindler is recognised at the Yad Vashem holocaust museum in Jerusalem as ‘righteous among the nations’.

I’ve always been moved by this story – not least because Schindler was clearly no angel, profiteering on the black market, carousing with Nazi leaders. Yet by appearing to go along with the regime, he succeeded in saving all those souls, and was directly responsible for the souls of so many born since. Had he stood up openly against the regime, he’d at worst have been killed himself and at best, lost his business and thus his ability to use his funds and influence to save all those Jewish lives. It seems to me that the Schindler story is the ultimate example of how sometimes doing the right thing isn’t always that obvious, and that the ends can justify the means – if those ends, in this case saving all those lives, are worthy enough.

Reading this story felt particularly relevant right now in the context of all the annual report copy we’ve been drafting over the last month for our clients on what’s happening in Ukraine. There’s no direct parallel, of course – companies aren’t individuals like Schindler; Russia isn’t Nazi Germany. But it seems to me that the questions Schindler’s story raises about ends and means, and what doing the right thing involves, are precisely what companies are having to consider right now.

To my mind, the greater good is clear. We must support Ukraine; we must stand up to Russia. But what does that mean in practice? For some companies that have little or no involvement in the region or with Russian clients, it’s quite straightforward. For those that do, it’s less obvious. Stop operations in Russia and take the hit to the balance sheet – no question (and complying with sanctions may have made the decision for them anyway). But continue to pay your Russian employees regardless? Less clear. The taxes they’re paying on their salaries will, through no fault of their own, be funding Russia’s atrocities in Ukraine. But with no money, these individuals and their families – for whom the company is directly responsible – could become destitute. Is that right?

I don’t have the answer. I don’t think anyone does, without going into the minutiae of each set of circumstances. And even then, whatever decision you make may still have negative unintended consequences. But I believe what matters most – and this is where I take inspiration from Schindler – is to do the very best we can with the circumstances in which we each find ourselves, in pursuit of a noble purpose. We may not always get it right, but, by pursuing that purpose, we will certainly get it a whole lot less wrong.

And that’s what I believe we should be looking for in any corporate narrative about Ukraine. Aside from the direct impact on the business, which must be disclosed, we should be aiming for an open and honest discussion along the lines of, this is our moral position; these are the resulting conflicts and challenges that arise, given the nature of our business; and this is what we’re doing about it.

If ever there were a time for companies to embrace the annual report as the ultimate source of truth and put their cards on the table, now is that time.