I have been reflecting on the impossibility of people in senior positions really knowing what is going on in their organisations. Apparently James Murdoch didn’t know the extent of phone hacking in News International and Teresa May didn’t know the extent to which immigration checks had been relaxed by the UK Border Agency. Clearly, there are people who doubt their claims that they weren’t told and, at the time of writing, it remains to be seen whether they are being economical with the truth – but I don’t find it in the least surprising.

Senior people are always vulnerable because they have to depend on other people to keep them in the picture. It is inevitable that the information they receive will be laundered and selective. This is even a hazard in small companies where it should be easier for the boss to know what is going on from first hand observation. I was once astonished when a member of my team handed in their notice claiming that the atmosphere in the office had become intolerable. I have two excuses for being blissfully unaware of any interpersonal problems. Firstly, I worked in a separate office and, secondly, whenever I mingled, everything was sweetness and light. Even the disgruntled employee put on an act. I realise my admission to have been taken by surprise by the sudden resignation leaves me open to accusations that I was distant, insensitive and easily hoodwinked. But that is the whole point. If I, the manager of an SME, could so easily be misled, how much more likely is it that the boss of a large enterprise will be out of touch with what is really going on?

I once knew a CEO of a large bank – let’s call him Alex – who, in common with many senior managers of his age and background, harboured a deep-seated dread of losing control. Of course, the bank was too big for Alex to be everywhere, keeping an eye on everything personally, so he invented ‘Skip Level Meetings’. Each week, Alex would visit a different part of the bank and hold an informal hour-long session with a group of staff a couple of levels below him in the hierarchy. The immediate managers of the selected group were excluded from the meeting to maximise uninhibited participation by their staff. There was no agenda – just an ‘anything goes’, off the record, question and answer session.

Alex was convinced these gatherings would, at least partially, solve the problem of how to keep in touch. However, once the staff had recovered from the initial shock of finding themselves face to face with the CEO, they soon cottoned on to the sort of things he wanted to hear; some relatively harmless examples about lack of attention to detail, some vague complaints about inadequate communications, some grumbling about poor response times from the IT department, and some mild criticisms of pay and conditions.

Alex, however, was very pleased with the process. As far as he was concerned, Skip Level Meetings were keeping him in touch and successfully circumventing the filters put in place by two or more levels of management. After each meeting, Alex summoned the relevant management team to feedback his findings and leave them in no doubt that things had to improve.

Predictably, managers in the bank below Alex (in other words, all the managers!) were very wary of Skip Level Meetings. They resented being excluded and dreaded the reprimands that inevitably followed in the wake of each meeting. Soon managers began to rehearse their staff, where questions and answers (particularly answers) were practised over and over until the manager was satisfied that the right ‘everything-is-under-control’ impression was being conveyed. Unbeknown to Alex, hours were spent in rehearsals – hours that could otherwise have been productive.

Alex, however, just like me, was convinced he was in touch!