You’ve probably seen articles discussing how organisations fail to report on impact (fully or accurately). That’s not a topic we can address in a newsletter. However, we can briefly discuss the disjoint between impact and risk.
In the next month or so, we’ll launch a business integrity assessment toolkit in collaboration with some fantastic partners (more soon). The tool is primarily targeted at investors to help them better vet, assess, and support those they invest in (i.e., the tool has application for any organisation). Most of the investors involved in the consultation that led to the tool’s development would be classed as “impact investors” (I know, it’s easy to claim that title). Ahead of that launch, I’ve been speaking to organisations focused on impact investment, including some of the leading providers of impact analysis tools and events.
The response has been, at best, underwhelming. For example, “The focus at [Organisation XYZ] is more on intended and desired outcomes. There is an element of risk mitigation more around drift from the path towards intended outcomes.” In normal speak, we focus on objectives without considering risk.
This response is not an outlier.
I’ve talked about how we spread ourselves too thin when we try to achieve meaningful change across more than 2-3 SDGs (UN Sustainable Development Goals). But what is the point of trying if we don’t consider the barriers/risks to achieving those goals?
Let’s take a not-so-fictitious example: an oncology disruptor operating in (generally) conservative religious countries. The relevant SDGs are “3. Good health and wellbeing,” and “5. Gender equality” (women in some of the markets suffer particularly; lack of same-sex doctors, fear, embarrassment, etc.). Such an organisation faces many risks that could compromise its ability to achieve those impacts. A proper assessment would look at what’s needed for point 3 (land, facilities, politicised healthcare with minimal qualified staff, equipment, devices, medication, etc.) and identify issues that could threaten each stage (corruption, fraudulent contractors, fake qualifications, counterfeit meds and devices, etc.). For SDG 5, the analysis should go deep (root causes for a lack of female healthcare professionals) and broad (how do international clinics that the wealthier citizens access overcome, etc.).
You (presumably) wouldn’t scale a mountain, cross a desert, or traverse an ocean without first considering potential challenges. But “impact” is achievable on a diet of good intentions and faith in humanity. Of course not. We all know this rationally, so why aren’t we more joined up?
I could be overanalysing, but the general sense I got was, “You risk folks don’t belong with us strategic world-changers.” This was in discussions with providers of impact assessment, events, communities, etc., who may resent other “service providers.” And I know some fantastic E&S advisors who do collaborate and many more folks in-house in sustainability roles who fight the good fight. But still, it’s weird.
Am I missing something here? It’s just the sort of “F-off, we’re the People’s Front of Judea” lunacy that provides the platform for the many haters of sustainability. We risk dividing ourselves to ensure easy conquering.
“You’re only as good as your last report”
A particularly fearsome client said that sentence to my team early in my career. It stuck. We delivered ~500 due diligence reports to this one organisation each year. Most were good, some excellent, and a couple were duds. The client explained that they operated in a zero-margin-for-error context (the reports informed Y/N decisions on huge deals).
That spectre looms over me every time I write, draft, or present. It’s probably not healthy, but it stuck.
Our next-door neighbour’s kid needs daily care from medical specialists. They drive a big van thing (to allow people with different mobility levels to get in and out). Twice a day (collection and drop off), they use our drive to reverse into and turn (the neighbour’s drive is a bit tighter). The problem is that those times clash frequently with school runs. Yesterday, my wife gave them a gentle beep as she was trying to leave our drive, as their vehicle sat stationary on it (waiting, I think, for the neighbour to move his van). When my wife returned from school, one of the carers had stayed behind (in her personal vehicle) to gesture and beep back at my wife (not the gentle nudge familiar in Asia, the New York City 5-second horn smackdown).
For the past 2.5 years, we’d generally looked at the carers with admiration. What an important job. It was sometimes mildly annoying that they used our drive, but not more. Maybe the carer had an awful day. But by beeping my wife, who had every right to exit our drive, she moved from a generally appreciated and positive space in our mental real estate to “what a tw@t” territory.
That’s a lesson for any of us doing “good work”. We only need to mess up (be rude, drop the ball, screw up a report) once for all that goodwill to evaporate.