Part 2 — Why fear, power and organisational culture shape our relationship with accountability.
The Same Word. Very Different Reactions.
Accountability.
It’s a word we hear constantly in organisations. Boards expect it from executives, executives from their leadership teams, managers from employees, and employees, quite reasonably, expect it from those making decisions that affect their work and their lives.
We see it embedded in governance frameworks, leadership expectations, performance agreements, policies and organisational values. Yet for a word so frequently used, accountability can provoke remarkably different reactions.
For some, it represents trust, integrity, responsibility and the opportunity to make a meaningful contribution. For others, it brings entirely different associations: blame, punishment, exposure or loss of control. And for some, accountability becomes something to be avoided, shifted onto others or used as a means of exerting power.
How can the same word carry such different meanings?
Perhaps because accountability isn’t experienced through a definition in a governance framework. It’s experienced through people, decisions, behaviours and the environments in which we operate. Those experiences can shape our relationship with accountability long before we’re formally expected to exercise it.
And that raises a question worth exploring.
Are we creating environments that encourage people to exercise accountability, or environments that teach them to protect themselves from it?
Accountability Doesn't Begin With a Policy
In Part 1, Are We Really Ready for Accountability in the Age of AI?, we explored three interconnected dimensions that are frequently discussed as though they mean the same thing: responsibility, accountability and ownership.
Responsibility concerns what we’re expected to do. Accountability concerns what we must answer for, including our decisions, actions, inactions and their consequences within the authority and obligations of our roles. Ownership reflects the extent to which we genuinely commit to the purpose, decisions and outcomes associated with our work.
While organisations can assign responsibilities, establish accountability arrangements and articulate expectations, that doesn’t mean everyone understands or experiences them in the same way.
Consider two employees working under similar accountability expectations.
One feels trusted to make decisions, knows when to seek advice and believes raising a concern will be treated constructively. The other has learned that admitting uncertainty invites criticism, challenging a decision threatens relationships and mistakes can have consequences far beyond the mistake itself.
Their formal expectations may be identical, yet their willingness to exercise judgement, speak up or accept accountability may be very different.
Of course, we shouldn’t assume the environment explains every difference in behaviour. People bring their own values, experiences, motivations and choices into the equation. Some will act with integrity even in difficult environments, while others may avoid responsibility despite being given every reasonable opportunity to exercise it.
Understanding the conditions that influence behaviour is not the same as excusing the behaviour itself.
But if we want accountability to operate effectively, we need to understand both the individual and the environment.
The Three Cs: What Makes Accountability Possible?
I believe three interconnected conditions deserve far greater attention in how we establish and exercise accountability: Clarity, Capability and Culture.
Not as another checklist to be completed or a framework to sit on a shelf, but as a way of examining the environment in which people are expected to make decisions, exercise judgement and answer for their actions.
Because an accountability structure may look perfectly reasonable on paper while operating very differently in practice.
Clarity: Have We Established Understanding or Simply Communicated Expectations?
Most organisations have little difficulty communicating responsibilities. Position descriptions, policies, reporting lines, delegations of authority, project plans and performance expectations can all tell people what they’re supposed to do.
But communication is not the same as understanding.
Two people can hear the same instruction and interpret its meaning, boundaries and implications quite differently, influenced by their experiences, assumptions and understanding of the environment in which they operate.
One may believe they have authority to make a decision, while another assumes approval is required. One may understand that raising concerns is part of their responsibility and invited, while another believes doing so would be interpreted as questioning their manager’s competence.
And when things go wrong, those differences can suddenly become very important.
How often do we hear explanations such as “I thought someone else was responsible,” “That wasn’t how I understood the decision,” or “I was only doing what I was told”?
Sometimes those explanations reflect genuine misunderstandings or gaps in governance and communication. Other times, they may be attempts to avoid accountability.
The challenge is being willing to distinguish between them rather than reaching for the most convenient explanation.
Clarity isn’t achieved simply because expectations have been communicated. It emerges when people share a meaningful understanding of what those expectations require.
And that goes well beyond signing a form, completing an online course or acknowledging a policy.
Leaders have a responsibility to test that understanding, particularly when decisions involve multiple functions, competing priorities or significant consequences. Equally, individuals have a responsibility to seek clarification when they recognise that expectations or authority are unclear.
Capability: Are We Equipping People to Exercise Accountability?
Even when responsibilities and expectations are understood, another question remains: can people actually exercise them?
Do they have the knowledge, judgement, skills, resources, information, confidence, and authority required? Can they recognise when a situation exceeds their expertise, and are they willing to acknowledge it? Do they understand when to escalate a concern, seek advice or challenge a decision, and do they feel safe to do so?
And when we invest in developing capability, are we providing meaningful opportunities for people to learn and exercise judgement, or simply demonstrating that another training requirement has been completed?
Consider a manager asked to oversee the introduction of an AI-enabled process.
They may understand the business objective and accept responsibility for implementation. But do they genuinely understand the limitations of the technology, the decisions it is permitted to influence and the consequences of relying on its outputs? Or do they simply believe they understand because the technology has been presented as capable, reliable and ready for deployment?
Do they have access to people who can challenge technical assumptions? Are they seeking perspectives beyond those of a technology provider with a commercial interest in the solution? And can they recognise when the apparent confidence of an AI-generated recommendation should not be mistaken for sound judgement?
These aren’t simply technical questions. They’re questions about leadership capability and the willingness to recognise the limits of our own knowledge.
Organisations have responsibilities to provide appropriate support, information and opportunities for development. Leaders must seek expertise where necessary, while individuals must take responsibility for their own learning, judgement and willingness to ask questions, particularly when they’re uncertain about what they know or understand.
Being accountable doesn’t mean knowing everything. But it does require recognising what we don’t know and acting responsibly within those limitations.
There is a significant difference between holding someone accountable for decisions within their authority and expecting them to answer for outcomes they were never reasonably equipped or empowered to influence.
Equally, a lack of knowledge cannot become a convenient excuse when someone had both the opportunity and responsibility to seek it.
Culture: What Happens When Accountability Becomes Uncomfortable?
This is where I think we get closer to the heart of the issue.
An organisation may have clear expectations and capable people, but what happens when exercising accountability becomes uncomfortable? When someone challenges a senior leader’s decision, identifies a risk that threatens expected benefits, admits a mistake or asks a question others would rather avoid?
The responses tell us a great deal about the culture in which accountability operates.
Because culture isn’t simply what an organisation says it values. It’s what people experience through decisions, behaviours, consequences and everyday interactions that shape their understanding of what is acceptable.
If raising a concern is welcomed in principle but punished in practice, people learn that speaking up carries risk. If mistakes are treated primarily as opportunities to assign blame rather than understand what happened, people learn to protect themselves. And if senior leaders demand transparency while protecting themselves from scrutiny, people learn that accountability may operate differently depending on who holds the authority.
These lessons can become deeply embedded, influencing not only what people say but also what they choose not to say, the decisions they’re prepared to make and the risks they’re willing to raise.
People don’t only learn accountability from what leaders tell them. They learn it from what leaders tolerate, reward, challenge and do themselves.
And this is where accountability can begin to take on a very different meaning.
When Accountability Creates Fear — or Becomes a Weapon
Fear is an interesting influence on human behaviour. It can protect us, encourage caution and prompt reflection, but it can also narrow our thinking, shape our assumptions and influence decisions in ways we don’t always recognise.
In organisations, fear surrounding accountability may arise from the possibility of being blamed for something outside our control, admitting we don’t know, disappointing someone whose approval matters, losing credibility or challenging a person with greater authority.
Sometimes those fears reflect genuine experiences of unfair treatment. Sometimes they emerge from assumptions or past experiences that may have little to do with the current environment. And sometimes what appears to be fear is actually an unwillingness to accept the consequences of our own decisions.
That’s why I think we need to be careful about treating every reluctance to exercise accountability as either a cultural failure or an individual weakness.
We need to remain curious about what’s actually happening.
When fear becomes dominant, people may become more concerned with protecting themselves than contributing to the best possible outcome. They may delay decisions, especially when they feel uncertain, avoid difficult conversations, withhold information, shift responsibility or remain silent when they recognise something isn’t right.
When protecting ourselves becomes more important than protecting the outcome, accountability has lost something fundamental.
But there’s another side to this conversation.
Accountability can also be deliberately used in ways that undermine the very principles it’s supposed to strengthen.
Consider a leader who demands accountability from employees but refuses to acknowledge their own mistakes, or an executive who holds a manager responsible for an outcome while withholding the authority, information or resources needed to influence it.
Perhaps accountability is invoked selectively, depending on who made the decision, who holds influence or whose reputation needs protecting. Or its language is used to discourage challenge, with familiar statements such as “You need to take ownership,” “You’re accountable for delivering this,” or “I don’t want excuses.”
Those statements aren’t inherently inappropriate. Leaders must sometimes reinforce expectations, address poor performance and insist that individuals accept responsibility for their actions.
But context matters.
What was expected, what authority did the person have, what information was available, and were concerns raised and genuinely considered? Are the same standards applied to those making the demands?
Holding someone accountable is not the same as weaponising accountability.
Genuine accountability requires fairness, proportionality, consistency and a willingness to remain curious about the circumstances surrounding decisions and behaviour.
Weaponised accountability uses the appearance of those expectations to protect power, shift blame, intimidate or silence.
And its consequences can extend well beyond the individual involved. People observe how others are treated and adapt their own behaviour, becoming more cautious about what they say, what they challenge and what they’re prepared to own.
Over time, an organisation may develop a culture where everyone talks about accountability, but fewer people are willing or able to exercise it openly.
That is a risk worth examining.
Safe Zones: Where Challenge and Accountability Can Coexist
This is where my work around Safe Zones becomes particularly relevant.
A Safe Zone isn’t an environment where everyone agrees, nor is it a place where difficult conversations, consequences or accountability disappear.
Quite the opposite.
It’s an environment where people are invited to speak up, raise concerns, challenge assumptions, admit uncertainty and acknowledge mistakes without automatically fearing punishment for doing so.
No shooting the messenger.
That principle may sound simple but consider what it asks of leaders.
Can we hear something we don’t want to hear without immediately becoming defensive? Can we separate the person raising a concern from the problem they’re identifying? Can we challenge someone’s reasoning without attacking their character, acknowledge our own mistakes without treating that acknowledgement as a loss of authority, and hold someone accountable for inappropriate behaviour while still encouraging others to speak openly?
Because a Safe Zone isn’t about removing discomfort. It’s about creating the conditions in which people can engage with discomfort constructively.
A leader may need to make a difficult decision that others disagree with. An employee may need to accept consequences for a poor choice. A team may need to confront an uncomfortable truth about its performance.
None of those situations automatically contradicts the principles of a Safe Zone.
What matters is whether people are treated with respect, whether concerns can be heard and whether accountability is exercised fairly rather than used to intimidate or silence.
Being safe to challenge does not mean being free from accountability.
In fact, I would argue that genuine accountability and Safe Zones should reinforce one another.
When people can raise concerns without fear of retaliation, organisations have a greater opportunity to recognise risk early, challenge flawed assumptions and make better decisions. And when accountability applies consistently, including to those in positions of authority, trust has a stronger foundation.
Creating a Safe Zone also asks something of the individual: a willingness to speak honestly, challenge constructively, acknowledge mistakes and accept responsibility for their own choices.
Because being invited to speak up doesn’t mean every concern will result in the outcome we prefer, just as being heard doesn’t remove our responsibility to act appropriately when decisions don’t go our way.
A Safe Zone is not a guarantee of agreement.
It’s an invitation to exercise courage, curiosity and accountability together.
Are We Prepared to Look Beneath the Word?
Perhaps the real challenge isn’t that organisations don’t talk enough about accountability. We talk about it constantly, establishing expectations, assigning responsibilities, developing frameworks and measuring performance.
But how often do we explore what the word actually means to the people expected to exercise it, or what experiences have shaped their understanding?
What happens when their judgement conflicts with authority? What behaviours are encouraged, tolerated or punished? And what does our own leadership demonstrate when accountability becomes uncomfortable?
Because if we want accountability to strengthen trust, judgement and organisational performance, we need to understand more than the formal expectations. We need to understand the people, the environment, the relationships and the choices being made within them.
Leaders have a responsibility to create conditions in which people can understand and exercise accountability effectively. Individuals have a responsibility to act with integrity, exercise judgement and answer for their decisions and behaviour.
Neither responsibility cancels out the other.
An organisation cannot reasonably expect people to embrace accountability while creating conditions that punish openness, discourage challenge or reward avoidance. Equally, individuals cannot reasonably expect an organisation to remove every discomfort or consequence associated with being accountable.
Accountability requires courage on both sides: the courage to make decisions, remain curious, challenge assumptions, acknowledge mistakes, accept consequences and examine how our own behaviour may have influenced an outcome.
And perhaps that’s where we need to shift our thinking.
Accountability should not be something people fear simply because it asks them to answer for their actions. But neither should it become a tool that others use to avoid answering for theirs.
The greater leadership challenge is creating an environment where people feel safe enough to speak honestly, capable enough to exercise judgement and responsible enough to own their decisions, actions, inactions, and consequences.
Not simply because accountability has been imposed upon them, but because they understand its purpose, recognise its importance and are prepared to exercise it.
And that includes those of us who lead.
Because risk starts and ends with people.
And accountability, when we get beneath the word, is no different.
Risk Rebels… What say you?
In Part 3, we’ll return to AI and explore what happens when increasingly autonomous technology encounters these very human challenges. We’ll also look beneath the immediate behaviour to consider the influences shaping our decisions and responses, because AI hasn’t invented our accountability problems. It’s amplifying the consequences of getting them wrong.
