Can good governance help during a crisis?

In this week's TT Coalition of Services Industries (TTCSI) column, we take a look at the issue of good governance and the role it plays during a time of crisis. This week's column is written by Kamla Rampersad de Silva, CEO, Caribbean Corporate Governance Institute.

LIFE TODAY is tough.

Businesses in Trinidad and Tobago grapple with supply chain disruptions, foreign exchange shortages, a widening generational divide in values, geopolitical conflicts and the ever-present shadow of violent crime.

In the face of such crises, our instinct is often to be reactive. We indulge in blame game, we seek favours to address the immediate symptom, and we take refuge in the well-known saying “God is a Trini,” praying we would not topple over the brink.

But can governance help us move beyond this reactive state to build a competitive, sustainable future? The short answer is, yes.

However, as we begin this new year surrounded by chaos, we have to acknowledge that while the answer is simple, the path is profoundly difficult.

True governance is not merely about structures, policies, or well written charters; these are just the scaffolding for effective governance practices. At its core, governance is stewardship.

It is the daily, disciplined practice of curbing our own self-interest to serve a larger purpose: the interests of an organisation, the trust of a community, the future of a nation.

Good governance demands honest, civic-minded citizens and leaders who are committed to a success that benefits everyone, and contributing to a better society.

We need only look at history’s most dramatic governance failures to see the stakes. Enron, once a celebrated titan of American industry, collapsed into infamy not because of a flawed business model alone, but due to a rotten core.

At Enron, false financial statements were being published, the governance culture hid greed and the false narratives eventually fell apart to show a catastrophic lack of integrity. The board failed. The auditors failed. The leadership culture was poor. It is a stark, global reminder that without an ethical foundation, even the most impressive organisation will fall.

But we need not look so far. Our own landscape is scarred by similar failures of stewardship, on a scale that hits closer to home.

In 2018, ten people were arrested for a $22.5 million fraud on the San Juan/Laventille Regional Corporation. These were not shadowy outsiders but average workers who, over several years, felt it was okay to divert public funds meant for community development.

This was a failure of oversight, of internal controls, and of a culture that allowed such dishonesty to fester.

More recently, we witnessed the $30 million fraud at ANSA Bank’s Chaguanas branch. The bank’s lawsuit revealed a conspiracy where employees and external parties, comprising six used-car dealers, presented fraudulent documents to secure loans for non-existing vehicles.

This occurred over a two-and-a-half year period and was only uncovered when a whistleblower wrote to one of the company directors. This was not a simple error; it was a systemic governance failure, a breakdown in checks and balances, in ethical vigilance, and in leadership’s duty to protect the institution.

These are not isolated incidents.

They are symptoms. They point to a normalisation of cutting corners, where the “petty crime” of paying a bribe for a driver’s permit becomes the accepted template for how things get done in Trinidad and Tobago.

This collective experience breeds a society that too often operates on connections and fear rather than on principle and merit. People are afraid to “raise their head” and speak out against unfair practices. Consequently inane, national dialogues are crafted by the loudest, most self-serving voices.

So, where does the change begin? From the boardroom to the branch office, it starts with a critical, honest look in the mirror.

Each chairman, each director, each manager must ask themselves: Am I making a positive difference, or am I just occupying a seat? Do I understand our operations well enough to spot gaps, ask tough questions, and insist on accountability?

Leadership is not a title; it is an active, learning, and accountable role. We must be honest in our self-introspection. Have I grown in this position? Can I translate my knowledge into actions that can push the organization forward ethically and sustainably?

The tone is set at the top, or as we have often heard, the fish rots from the head. When leadership fails, we must all look inward before pointing fingers. Yet, our current culture often encourages the opposite, a blame game that solves nothing.

To break this cycle, we must confront even deeper barriers. How do we overcome the divisive “plantation mentality” which the late writer and intellectual Prof Lloyd Best identified in our culture?

This divide-and-rule relic of colonialism, where groups are pitted against each other, and deep resentments are fanned by those who benefit from a fractured status quo. Decades after self-rule, this toxicity still hinders our ability to forge a common vision.

It does not have to be this way. We are neither slaves nor masters. We are citizens of a democracy where our voices must count, and our institutions must serve.

What do we need? We need to cultivate honour. We need to develop the courage to speak truth, even when it is uncomfortable. We need leaders willing to sacrifice short-term personal gain for the long-term well-being of our organisations and our nation.

Governance, in this truest sense, is our most powerful tool in a crisis. It is the deliberate choice to build systems and a culture where integrity is non-negotiable, where whistleblowers are protected, and where stewardship is the highest calling.

The future of Trinidad and Tobago is not something that will simply happen to us. It will be built by the quality of governance we choose to exercise today. The choice, and the responsibility, belongs to every one of us.