Boards are quick to fire CEOs in a crisis, only to find the crisis remains
Howard Levitt: Strong governance means having the judgment and courage to properly assess risk before reacting

By the time a board hires outside counsel to investigate a senior executive, the real governance failure has usually already occurred. This is the lesson I have most seen in my board advisory work.
The specific misconduct may be new. The lack of insight into the problems that led to it rarely is.
In my extensive experience, corporate crises seldom emerge out of nowhere. Most are the predictable result of years of institutional neglect: weak oversight, passive leadership, politicized HR structures, unmanaged executive conflict and boards that have long lost the requisite ability to distinguish genuine risk from internal discomfort.
Yet when the crisis finally surfaces, many boards make the same mistake. They focus on the individual executive at the centre of the controversy while ignoring the governance failures that gave rise to the situation in the first place.
The result is often a very expensive illusion of accountability.
The executive is removed. Headlines quiet down. The board congratulates itself on "taking decisive action." External consultants are retained. New policies are announced. Town halls are held. Culture reviews are commissioned.
And eighteen months later, the organization finds itself in yet another crisis.
Because the underlying problem was never that individual alone.
Increasingly, Canadian corporations are being governed through fear: fear of reputational damage, fear of social media outrage, fear of employee activism, fear of internal complaints, fear of regulators and, perhaps most significantly, fear of making the wrong decision publicly.
That fear changes organizations.
Executives begin managing defensively rather than decisively. HR departments become centres of institutional risk management rather than operational support. Middle managers avoid difficult conversations entirely. Documentation reduces. Performance management weakens. Internal factions grow. Political behaviour flourishes.
Meanwhile, the boards, which have their own governance responsibilities, receive a filtered and sanitized version of reality.
No one wants to be the person who minimizes a legitimate complaint. But no one wants to be the person who questions whether every allegation represents an existential threat.
That distinction matters.
Not every difficult executive is toxic. Not every aggressive leader is abusive. Not every internal disagreement is retaliation. Not every workplace investigation is truly about workplace safety or psychological health.
But once organizations lose the confidence to distinguish between misconduct and mere conflict, institutional paralysis follows.
Some of the most successful executives I have encountered were deeply imperfect. Demanding. Intense. Impatient. Occasionally abrasive. Often politically tone-deaf.
But they also built new divisions, drove revenue, rescued failing operations and made difficult decisions others avoided.
Boards today struggle with that tradeoff.
Many directors now operate under the assumption that reputational risk must be eliminated at almost any cost. Yet reputational risk cannot be eliminated. It can only be managed intelligently.
And, paradoxically, organizations often create far greater risk when they begin governing primarily through optics.
The most dangerous corporate cultures are not always the harshest ones. Increasingly, they are the most performative ones: organizations where leadership becomes afraid to speak candidly, where difficult personalities are discussed privately but never managed directly, where investigations become substitutes for leadership and where everyone, quickly or eventually, learns that perception matters more than truth.
This dynamic becomes especially dangerous at the executive level.
Senior leadership teams are inherently political environments. Ambition, succession planning, compensation, influence and power intersect. Complaints are not always invented, but they are not always free from strategic motivations.
Boards that fail to recognize this reality are easily manipulated by internal narratives they do not fully understand, and they are never given the information to do so. External workplace investigators, purportedly hired to determine the facts, are instead motivated to deliver the "truth" they think their client wants to hear and arrive with the perceived (if not explicit) desired result.
I have seen organizations remove highly effective executives not because the facts demanded termination, but because the board lost confidence in its own ability to withstand controversy.
That is not governance. That is institutional panic cloaked in the language of governance.
The irony is that many boards now face the exact opposite problem they feared 20 years ago.
Historically, boards were criticized for protecting powerful executives for too long. Today, many sacrifice executives too quickly, often before fully understanding the organizational dynamics at play.
Both failures stem from the same root problem: weak oversight.
Strong governance does not mean reflexively defending executives. Nor does it mean reflexively removing them. It means having the judgment, independence and institutional courage to properly assess risk before reacting to pressure.
That requires directors who understand not only compliance and policy, but human behaviour, organizational politics, leadership dynamics, reputational escalation, media pressure, compensation structures, succession risk, litigation consequences and at least a modicum of employment law.
In other words, boards today require strategic judgment, not merely procedural process.
The corporations that will thrive over the next decade will not be the ones with the most policies, the largest HR departments or the most carefully crafted public statements.
They will be the organizations with directors who govern calmly under pressure.
Because the next generation of corporate failures will not primarily come from executives who were too aggressive.
They will come from boards that were too passive to manage conflict before it became crisis.
Howard Levitt is senior partner of Levitt LLP, employment and labour lawyers with offices in Ontario, Alberta and British Columbia. He practices employment law in eight provinces and is the author of six books, including the Law of Dismissal in Canada.
