It is
hard to recall a time when the interest in “conflicts of interest” has so
dominated the American political landscape.
During
the campaign season we were inundated with allegations of improprieties from
both the Clinton and Trump Foundations. And now on the eve of the inauguration,
news feeds brim with talk of divestitures, dissolutions, blind trusts, and
LLCs. In the weeks since the election, many learned for the first time about US
Code Section 202, which exempts the President and Vice President (along with
members of Congress and Federal judges) from Title 18, Section 208 of that same
Code, prohibiting executive branch employees from participating in government
matters in which they or their immediate family have a financial interest.
For
those who love all machinations political, the theater is unprecedented and
promises to provide endless hours of entertainment in the months ahead. But for
those seeking to be the best leaders we can be -- in our businesses, communal
organizations, and religious institutions -- partisan bloviation and legalistic
technicalities obfuscate the larger point. For leaders, conflicts of interest
matter.
In
Jewish sources[1], the relation between leaders and followers is not one-way or
top-down. On the contrary, leadership is an exchange, premised on a reciprocal
relationship. Leaders both give to and get from their followers. They are much
more than holders of office; they are servants of the community (whether that
community is a corporation, a government, or a philanthropic organization).
Reciprocity
between leaders and followers is precisely what the great philosopher and
legalist, Moses Maimonides, had in mind when he taught that a community honors
itself when it honors its leaders. It follows, therefore, that any leader who
dishonors herself (say by involvement in a conflict of interest) dishonors her
constituents as well.
Underscoring
this point, the 19th and 20th century rabbinic authority known as the Hazon Ish, wrote that when a community
feels that its sages have a conflict of interest, “the whole generation is
orphaned … For even if one were to recognize the greatness of … that sage no
one would commit himself to abide by the sage’s decision because he appears to
be in conflict of interest…”
Woven
into the biblical worldview is an understanding that leaders are not above the
law. There are no “authority carve-outs” for those who hold high office. All
leaders, even the CEO, indeed even the highest-ranking official of the land,
are duty-bound to follow the law, without exemption or immunity. Strikingly,
according to the Palestinian Talmud, even God is required to follow His own
law.
While
Jewish legal writings suggest that all individuals should avoid conflicts of
interest, a special standard is articulated for those who lead. Leaders are dugmaot -- role models -- whose moral
rectitude must exceed that of the general public. Ironically, this is true,
according to the sages, because those in the public eye are more likely to be
viewed with suspicion and skepticism, owing to their increased access to power,
and the greater likelihood that that power will be abused. In this context,
therefore, it is essential that leaders avoid such suspicion, by not only
removing themselves from any conflicts of interest, but by going even further,
and avoiding the very appearance of such conflicts.
This is
one of the most important lessons new(ly elected) leaders must learn. Simply
stated, failure to grasp the challenges of living in a fishbowl can destroy an
otherwise promising leadership career. Even if the weight of public attention
was never a factor in prior positions, when one becomes a leader with a public
persona, the stakes change.
Maimonides
spoke directly to this issue in explaining the harsh punishment meted out to
Moses at the waters of Meribah, resulting in the denial of his entrance to the
Promised Land. “God was strict with him (Moses),” wrote the Rambam, “because
the people all modeled their actions upon his and studied his every word …
Everything Moses said and did was scrutinized and emulated by them.”
When
leaders understand that their actions are always examined and frequently
mirrored, the urgent need to extricate oneself from conflicts of interest
becomes a preeminent priority.
Invoking
an ancient lexicon that can easily be rendered into a contemporary patois,
rabbinic writings are filled with powerful examples of leaders who take
concrete steps to remove themselves from situations of conflict. Kings and
priests cannot occupy a seat on the High Court because of the potential,
however remote, that their rulings will unfairly advantage their positions.
Charity collectors and other officials must commit themselves to stricter
standards of personal behavior than the general populace in order to avoid even
the suggestion of conflict. (Of particular interest for those concerned about
the corrosive impact of nepotism is the fact that supervisors of the charity
collective could not be related to one another.) In addition, the High Priest
could not wear garments with hems or pockets, lest anyone think he was
secreting valuables in the course of doing his work. And even Moses found it
necessary to render an expense accounting of the Tabernacle’s construction
costs, so no one would be inclined to think he was engaged in untoward behavior
of any sort.
Several
overarching principles inform the behavior that should guide a leader’s actions
when it comes to these matters. To begin with, the Talmud refers frequently to
one who is nogea b’davar, someone
with a vested interest in a particular issue who, by definition, can no longer
be objective. While nuanced in its applications, the concept itself is
intuitive. Simply stated, if an individual of any station, and certainly a
public leader, is encumbered by past dealings, however legitimate, that are
likely to color his judgment going forward, he must exempt and absent himself
from any related entanglements.
This
must be done precisely because of an overarching assumption that one who has a
conflict may seek to advance his own self-interest at the expense of the truth.
This is not a matter of unfairly indicting anyone without sufficient evidence.
It is a preventative measure designed to protect both the leader and those she
serves.
A related
concept is extrapolated from the Torah’s teaching in Numbers that, “You shall
be guiltless (v’hiyitem n’keyim)
before God and Israel.” Biblical leaders derive their authorization from a
combination of divine and popular imprimatur. One without the other is
insufficient. It is critical, therefore, that a leader maintains the
approbation of both God and the people, by doing, in the words of Deuteronomy,
that which is “right and proper” (hayashar
vehatov). Jeopardizing either divine or human sanction by withholding
information about potential conflicts of interest endangers a leader’s
efficacy. It is for this reason, for example, that the High Priest, as trusted
an individual as ever there was, was, nevertheless, searched upon entering and
leaving the Temple treasury to assure the people that their leader was beyond
reproach.
In
addition, later Jewish sources, inspired by the book of Leviticus, insisted
that those who withhold, mislead or misrepresent their personal interests or
motives are engaging in the functional equivalent of placing a stumbling block
in front of the blind. This idea, known as lifnei
iver, requires a leader to come clean about the possibility of ulterior
motives, financial entanglements, sources of undue influence and related
matters. A leader who fails to release information -- tax returns, donor lists,
or the names of influence-wielding hotel guests -- is susceptible to
second-guessing, innuendo or insinuation. When that happens, she is wounded and
blemished from the get-go. Said leader’s ability to serve his people is
unnecessarily and indelibly impeded.
Based
on a wordplay that appears in the Talmud, post-biblical authorities went one
step further, and analogized conflicts of interest to the taking of bribes. The
Hebrew word for bribe -- shochad --
is explained as she-hu-chad -- “that
he is one.” In other words, the one who gives a bribe and the one who accepts
it are indistinguishable; they become one and the same. Thus, a business leader
or his family who profits from payoffs, kickbacks or other financial
inducements cannot be trusted. Her judgment is permanently scarred; his ability
to be impartial, forever compromised. So too, a political leader mired in
conflicts of interest will never escape the perennial cloud of suspicion hanging
over votes and vetoes, initiatives and political maneuverings.
To
underscore the import of community leaders maintaining impeccable ethical
standards, medieval Jewish legalists took the dramatic step of equating them to
judges, who are commanded to maintain the most unblemished standards of all.
The 16th century Polish Rabbi Moses Isserles, instructed that, “the good men of
the community who are appointed to deal with public and private matters are
like judges and it is forbidden to include among them a person who is
disqualified to act as a judge because of the wrong he has done.”
And
since, according to the Code of Jewish Law, “a judge may not deal with any
matter in which he has a beneficial interest,” business, political, and
communal leaders are under a special obligation to avoid any such potentiality.
Despite
a widespread tendency to focus on conflicts of interest involving corporate or
political leaders, social sector leaders are equally obligated to hold
themselves accountable to a superior ethical standard. The eleemosynary
environment, in which leaders are expected to raise large sums of money from an
often demanding and self-interested donor base, is fecund with possibilities
for potential conflicts. Precisely for this reason, a nonprofit organizational
leader, whether volunteer or professional, must embody a commitment to
squeaky-clean transparency, avoiding even the most remote appearance of
impropriety.
This is
as true for fundraisers as it is for clergy. So too, educators and programming
professionals, who often receive subtle but unmistakable messages to compromise
ethical standards for the sake of institutional advancement, are challenged to
stand resolute in the face of potential conflicts of interest.
With
all this talk of higher standards for leaders, one might be forgiven for
believing that Jewish sources apotheosized public officials. But that is not
the case. “A community leader (parnas)
is not to be appointed,” according to the Talmud, “unless he carries on his
back a basket of reptiles [something reprehensible in his background], so that
if he becomes arrogant he can be told, ‘Turn around!’”
In
contrast to the popular tendency to demand perfection from our leaders, this
view embraces the notion that leaders are inherently flawed and necessarily
imperfect. It is essential, therefore, that they go to extra lengths to
acknowledge their liabilities and to prevent those deficiencies from dooming
their leadership. The French Talmudist, Menachem Meiri, offered his own
insightful exegesis, explaining the relevance of this text to the appointment
of communal leaders.
It is
proper to appoint as a parnas over the community only a person who is … humble,
modest and tolerant… Care should, however, be taken not to appoint a generally
over-aggressive person who might think that … he is more worthy than others …
Instead, a person should be chosen who is aware that there are other more
worthy candidates… That is to say, although a fit person in himself, he may
become haughty and full of pride in his dealing with the community … and in
that event he can be told: “Turn and judge yourself, look behind you.”
It is
important that boards, electorates, and the polity-at-large not construct
unrealistic expectations for our leaders. All successful individuals are likely
to be encumbered by their own “basket of reptiles.” But we must never lose
sight of the fact that character matters in leadership; it is the cornerstone
of trustworthiness.
Given
the fishbowl phenomenon and the natural tendency to scrutinize those in
positions of authority, leaders must hold themselves to the highest moral
standard. Acknowledging our current conflicts and working assiduously to
distance ourselves from them, extricating ourselves from potentially
compromising situations as they emerge, and going above and beyond what the
letter of the law requires in order to mitigate even the appearance of untoward
behavior, lie at the core of what it means to be an effective leader.
[1] The
author is pleased to provide interested readers with a detailed list of sources
for every citation referenced in this article.
A version of this article was originally
published on eJewishPhilanthropy.com.
