When Governance becomes Terror: The Chief Discipline Officer

Originally published on 19 October 2017. Republished on August 16 2026 with minor corrections; the argument is unchanged.

The Chief Discipline Officer

An organisation that went through a merger. Or was it an acquisition? Either way, the new organisation also brought a new function: the Chief Discipline Officer. What is that?  Most of the time the full title is Chief Discipline and Conduct Officer, and most of these roles sit inside UN peacekeeping missions, where Conduct and Discipline Teams have existed since 2005. As I understand it, the job is to detect and respond to behaviour that does not comply with the mission's values and rules, through what the UN calls a three-pronged strategy of prevention, enforcement and remedial action.

There are indeed awful incidents involving personnel deployed abroad: bullying, rape, torture. And it is clear that misconduct can undermine the very credibility of a mission. In that environment, exemplary behaviour is of the essence.

Misconduct

So let's zap back to corporate life. What does a Chief Discipline Officer do there? And why does the role even exist?

The Chief Discipline Officer I heard about seemed to look only for error, deviation and non-compliance. He appeared to treat punishment as the remedy, rather than prevention or correction. It became a blaming game.

As with personnel abroad, people who misbehave inside an organisation are a problem. But should keeping up good behaviour be delegated to a separate function? Should it not be the leader who makes sure people act within the agreed framework? And if we already have auditors and compliance officers, why would we need a chief conduct officer on top?

Terror

Governance becomes terror when people abuse the power inherent in the function.

The problem with power is that it can only be maintained in one of two ways: by keeping others weak, or by increasing its intensity. If information is the basis of power, it can only be maintained by not sharing information. Where knowledge is the basis, people can only hold on to it by withholding knowledge from others — and by keeping them less competent. If it rests on pressure, then pressure has to be exerted, and probably increased over time.

And what if the power comes from terrorising people, frightening them, threatening them with disciplinary action or dismissal? Would that work? Would it create enough fear to steer behaviour in the desired direction, sustainably?

The abuse of power by a Chief Discipline Officer is a problem in itself. But what do people actually do when controls are experienced as terror?

• they leave;
• they adapt;
• they develop strategies to mislead governance;
• they laugh at the absurdity of the role — and fear evaporates through humour, as does power.

Power is a strange thing. It is most valuable when it is not used. Holding the power attached to a role does not mean you get the authority to execute that role properly. On the contrary: when governance becomes terror, it loses its value.

Trust

The only way to make governance work — including a role like the Chief Discipline Officer — is through trust. If people can trust those who govern, they will respect them. More than that: at that point governance gains the authority it deserves and needs.

But trust is not won by imposing, blaming and punishing. It is won by explaining, respecting and helping. And where disciplinary action is genuinely appropriate, it should be carried out as respectfully as the circumstances allow.

And perhaps we should not transpose what is needed in a sensitive and often hazardous peacekeeping mission to corporate life. Come on.