How Not To Investigate 

Last week, it was No. 2’s school under the microscope. This week, it’s No. 1. Since a brief foray into kleptomania (mainly snacks) towards the end of primary school, Aly (No. 1) has walked a saintly path through school (reserving the whole teenager experience for home). When we got a panicked call from one of the several counsellors at her school, we were concerned. After a few minutes, we realised Aly was the victim, not the perpetrator. We felt an odd sort of relief once we heard the details.

One of her friends had told his (female) friends far too much about things he’d seen in the locker room. Rating their male classmates, well, you can guess, in graphic and unflinching detail. One of the group later told a friend, who then told a teacher (i.e., reported the incident).

We spoke to Aly. She found the conversation “like, totally gross”, but she explained we needed context. The boy involved (we’ll call him Ben) makes statements to get a reaction. He’s a bit lost, she felt. He plays the contrarian or provocateur – e.g., wearing overtly religious symbols of religions that don’t (yet/fully) accept his nature and appropriating slurs commonly used to marginalise others like him.

So, what did the school do?

🤦🏻‍♂️ Removed Ben from class.

🤦🏻‍♂️ Placed him in a solitary room (with windows) so all could see him sobbing alone.

🤦🏻‍♂️ Had the panicky counsellor fetch the witnesses/victims, one by one, during class so their peers know exactly who testified.

🤦🏻‍♂️ Not explained the investigative process to anyone, such that rumours flourished like mushrooms in the damp.

🤦🏻‍♂️ Returned Ben to class without any guidance or explanation to the witnesses/victims, where he’s pursued one person he feels was the ‘snitch’ (wrong person according to Aly).

Some of these issues could be averted with a basic investigative plan. I know most of you reading know this. However, some other internal functions don’t, and they often lead workplace misconduct investigations, usually with similarly suboptimal results (in my experience). For starters:

💡 Establish what could/can be done (contracts, charters, disciplinary procedures) before action (e.g., in this case, what sanctions could Ben face if found guilty).

💡 Ensure the time matches the crime – are there clear policies or a Code to guide (un)acceptable behaviour?

💡 Make sure you understand the allegation (here, it was pretty straightforward, but in organisations, it can get confusing in complex areas like surveillance, data transfer, etc.).

💡 Consider, honestly, if you have the internal capacity and experience to properly investigate the allegation (here, the counsellor was all at sea).

💡 Ensure impartiality of the investigative team (guilty until proven innocent).

💡 Develop an investigation plan (a roadmap that might have highlighted the issues that created the rumours and misinformation).

💡 Set timeframes and communication protocols (this case dragged on for nearly a week, and the counsellor never followed up, as she promised).

💡 Decide how to record the investigation (e.g., for root cause analysis, remediation, etc.).

💡 Establish the protocols (tangible measures, not a flimsy policy) to protect against retaliation/retribution (both ways).

Why make such a big deal over this (you might be thinking)? It’s not the most serious incident that could occur. True. It’s not the counsellor’s fault they were out of their depth. Also true.

But the damage (from a purely selfish point of view) is that Aly has since said, “I get why people don’t come forward now. I don’t know if I would say anything [if interviewed by the school] if it happened again.” That’s a bad outcome if you’re trying to create inclusive and safe cultures. Very bad. No investigation is “too small” to get right.