“There is no such thing as being a little bit ethical.” It is a well-known quote by Ien Dales. A powerful phrase that we hear regularly whenever integrity is discussed. It is often forgotten, however, that Dales was referring to the government as a whole with this statement, not so much to individual people.
If we apply this statement to people, we miss the mark. Because if we are honest, we all know that gradations do exist in daily conduct. There is behavior that is clearly ethical, behavior that crosses the line, and everything in between.
That absolutely does not mean that integrity is relative or optional. It means that integrity is not an on/off switch, but a virtue. Something you develop. Or, conversely, let slacken.
A muscle gets stronger by using it. If you leave it alone, the strength diminishes. It works the same way with integrity. It lies not only in big, visible choices, but precisely in the small moments: whether or not to say something, whether or not to ask follow-up questions, whether or not to go along with something.
In the beginning, that often feels uncomfortable. Addressing someone, asking a critical question, or raising an uncomfortable point takes energy. Just like that first time at the gym, where everything feels heavy and unnatural.
But something interesting happens if you keep doing it. It becomes easier. More natural. And eventually, it even becomes part of who you are.
In a large city, there is often more distance. Roles are more clearly defined. As a council member, you probably do not know the property developer submitting a building plan personally. But that does not make things easier: the stakes are higher, the lobbying is more professional, and the networks are more complex and therefore harder to see through.
In smaller communities, the challenge is different in nature. The property developer is your neighbor. Or the father of a classmate of your child. Or someone who has been on the same volunteer board as you for years. Roles overlap and relationships are personal. That makes it harder to stay focused on your role as a representative of the people.
But whatever the context: integrity is always complex. Relationships can cloud your judgment in any situation. The question is whether you dare to be sharp about this yourself and whether you have people around you who point it out when you are not.
For the context determines not only the risks but also the space to practice. In a culture where dissenting opinions are given room, you train that muscle naturally. In a culture where everyone is looking in the same direction, you weaken it.
It is often said: “You have to be able to look yourself in the mirror.” A variation on this is “as long as nothing keeps me awake at night, I know I’m on the right track.” These are nice thoughts, but as yardsticks for integrity, they are misleading.
For the reality is that precisely the people who systematically cross boundaries can often look themselves in the mirror perfectly well (and possibly sleep very soundly, too). Not because they act with integrity, but because their conscience has become less sharp.
Their ‘muscle’ has not been trained, but rather neglected. They have learned to rationalize their own behavior and have surrounded themselves with people who reinforce this.
In this way, the norm shifts. Not all at once, but step by step. Until the person themselves no longer knows or feels where their own boundary once lay.
If integrity is a muscle, it requires training.
That training is found in everyday moments. Someone in your group says something that isn’t right. But he is experienced, confident, and the rest nod. You say nothing. That costs you nothing today. But it trains you to remain silent. And you only notice that when it really comes down to it.
That is what integrity means in practice: asking the question when something isn’t right, naming what is uncomfortable, and being open to dissenting opinions even when it causes friction. No spectacular actions. But repetitions, and that is what counts.
If we take integrity seriously, we must stop treating it as something abstract.
Integrity is not a policy document or a checklist; integrity is daily behavior.
And just as you don’t train once and then stay fit forever, the same applies here. Integrity requires practice, reflection, and learning from your mistakes. Correction is needed for this, from yourself and from each other.
This is where integrity differs from strength training. An athlete can get stronger on their own. But integrity is a virtue, and virtues only exist in relation to others. You cannot develop them solo. Whether you ask that critical question is up to you, but a fraction that does not appreciate critical questions collectively trains itself to look away.
Integrity is not an ideal that you ever achieve and then maintain. You train it every day, in small choices, in difficult conversations, together with others.
Would you like to practice this? Then the Board Integrity training is a logical next step. In it, you work concretely on recognizing dilemmas, making conscious choices, and strengthening an open and resilient board culture.