“I am tired,” the Chairman muttered before the meeting even began, leaning back as directors shuffled papers they had no intention of challenging. “We have a Board. But do we have a voice?”
You have probably seen this movie before. In a crowded office elevator during peak hours, everyone presses the same button, floor ten, yet no one checks if the elevator is even moving. A junior staff whispers, “Are we stuck?” Another replies, “The boss pressed the button. It must be working.” Minutes pass. No movement, no one dares question the assumption. The doors finally open, not at floor ten, but back at the ground. Everyone steps out pretending this was the destination.
That is CEO worship. A room full of intelligent people, choosing comfort over asking questions to gain clarity. Then a new director said, “Gentlemen and ladies, this is not a leadership problem. This is a courage problem disguised as respect.”
The boardroom that forgot its job
In this institution, a strong CEO had delivered growth. Revenues doubled and market share improved. The Board became admirers instead of overseers. During one meeting, I watched the exchange. The CFO hesitated, then said quietly, “Liquidity pressures are increasing.” The CEO responded sharply, “Temporary. We are investing for growth.”
A director leaned forward, then paused, then leaned back again. Another whispered, “Let us not derail momentum.” Momentum. The most dangerous word in governance. It silences dissent. It rewards compliance.
The Chairman then asked the room, “What is our job? To protect the CEO or the institution?” No one answered.
Why CEO worship feels safe but destroys value
Boards rationalise silence as alignment. They call it trust, confidence or support. It is none of those things. It is abdication.
In Uganda, the CEO often carries more than strategy. They carry political relationships, investor confidence, even family expectations. Challenging them feels like destabilising the entire system. So directors negotiate with themselves. “If we push too hard, we might lose him.” “If we question too much, we look uninformed.” “If we disagree, we create tension.”
The best bet is doing nothing. And nothing is expensive. In this case, within eighteen months, the institution moved from strong growth to hidden strain. Liquidity gaps widened. Short-term funding replaced stable capital. The same Board that praised performance was now shocked by the consequences of decisions they never interrogated.
One director finally said, almost in disbelief, “We did not see this coming.” You did. You just chose not to look. The breaking point
What makes a good business adviser is the ability to cause the client see reality. During a one-on-one moment with the CEO, I asked him directly, “If this Board disagreed with you today, would anything change?”
He paused, smiled and then said, “We have always been aligned.” That was the answer. Not because alignment existed. But because disagreement had been trained out of the room.
Later I met the Chairman and gave him feedback: “You do not have a governance structure. You have a loyalty structure.” The Chairman appreciated the feedback.
One way of creating heated debate is to empower the directors to demonstrate their appreciation of the business strategy. Once during a retreat, ran the following exercise.
I told the board members, “We are going to simulate your next Board meeting. No titles and hierarchy. Just decisions.” I divided them into two groups.
Group one: defend the CEO’s current strategy.
Group two: destroy it.
At first, hesitation. Then slowly, voices emerged. “Your growth is funded by unstable capital.” “You are masking risk with expansion.” “You are assuming market conditions will remain favourable.”
The CEO listened. For the first time, without interruption.
Then I asked him, “What did you hear?” He responded quietly, “I have not been challenged like this in years.” “Clarity before motion,” I said. “You cannot govern what you are afraid to question.”
The real role of the board
A Board that worships the CEO creates fragility. A Board that challenges the CEO creates resilience. The goal is not conflict. It is productive tension. The best CEOs do not want silent boards. They want sharp ones.
The Chairman later told me, “We thought we were being supportive. We were being negligent.” That is the quote every Board should frame: “A silent Board is not loyal. It is dangerous.”
At your next meeting, do this:
- Ask management to present a major decision.
- Assign two directors to argue against it, regardless of their personal view.
- Require the CEO to respond without interruption or authority.
- Capture what was missed in the original proposal.
Repeat this every quarter. You will not break alignment but strengthen it.
If you are Chairman, ask your directors:
- Are we challenging the CEO or protecting our comfort?
- When was the last time we fundamentally disagreed in this room?
- What risks are we ignoring because performance looks good?
- If the CEO is wrong, how early would we know?
And ask your CEO:
- Do you feel truly challenged by this Board?
- What decision have you made recently that no one questioned?
- Where do you need sharper oversight, not softer support?
Because the truth is simple. The elevator is not moving. The question is whether your Board has the courage to say it out loud before the doors open at the wrong floor.
