Why No One Wants to Investigate the Boss — and What It’s Costing You

It’s the unspoken rule in many organisations: if the person being complained about is senior enough, the bar for action is suddenly higher.

Allegations get “noted”. Processes drag. HR is told to “handle it delicately”. Words like “culture fit” and “performance context” start appearing in meeting notes. And slowly — sometimes quietly — the issue goes unresolved, or disappears into a leadership reshuffle.

The problem isn’t always bad faith. It’s fear. Fear of conflict. Fear of damaging relationships. Fear of reputational fallout if a senior name ends up in an official report. But that fear is costing companies more than they realise.

When the complaint involves someone with power — a department head, a partner, a founder — everything changes. HR feels pressure to protect the organisation’s image. Legal steps in early. The goal shifts from investigation to containment.

But here’s the thing: the staff already know. Word spreads faster than any internal policy. They see who’s untouchable. They see what happens when someone raises a flag. And they take note.

In 2023, a tech company in Cambridge lost three of its most experienced women in under four months. Each had raised concerns, informally, about the behaviour of the same VP. Nothing abusive. But patterns. Dismissive remarks. Repeated interruptions in meetings. Credit taken. HR logged the concerns, but waited for a “formal complaint” before acting. That complaint never came. But the resignations did.

It wasn’t the VP that damaged the team. It was the response.

Organisations like to believe that process alone will solve this. That if policies are followed and forms are completed, fairness is guaranteed.

But when a junior staff member sees that senior figures aren’t held to the same standard — that investigations are handled differently depending on rank — trust evaporates. And with it goes psychological safety, engagement, and long-term retention.

The data backs this up. A 2022 report from the Chartered Institute of Personnel and Development found that employees were 41% less likely to report misconduct when the person involved held decision-making power over their careers. In other words, the people who most need protecting are the least likely to speak.

That’s not a policy problem. That’s a credibility problem.

What’s the fix? First, stop pretending seniority equals immunity. If anything, senior leaders should be more accountable. They set tone, shape culture, and hold influence. If their behaviour crosses a line, the stakes are higher — not lower.

Second, remove ambiguity. Your process for complaints involving executives should be just as clear, just as public, and just as consistent as it is for everyone else. If the policy has a footnote about “board oversight” or “discretion in exceptional cases”, staff will see straight through it.

Third, don’t wait for disaster. Run after-action reviews on every serious complaint. What worked? What didn’t? What did people say informally that never made it into the report? These reviews won’t solve the problem overnight. But they’ll show you where the cracks are — and who’s falling through them.

A law firm in the Midlands now does this quarterly. Every complaint — formal or informal — is reviewed by a neutral panel of HR and operations staff. Names are removed. Cases are anonymised. But patterns are tracked. It’s not perfect, but it’s progress. And the staff know it’s happening. That alone has started to shift the culture.

And finally — support your HR people. Investigating someone senior is not easy. It requires skill, authority, and air cover. If the people running your process don’t feel backed, they’ll default to caution. Or worse, silence.

Too many HR teams have been burned by trying to “do the right thing” and finding themselves sidelined. Or worse, blamed.

Senior leaders often say they want transparency. But when that transparency involves one of their peers, the language shifts. Suddenly, it’s about tone. Intent. “Perception gaps.” We all know what that means.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: most organisations don’t fail because someone misbehaved. They fail because they didn’t deal with it properly.

You can’t claim to care about culture if your culture depends on who’s being accused.

You can’t claim to care about trust if the person raising the concern ends up isolated.

And you can’t claim to be a modern, ethical business if you’re still protecting seniority over principle.

The good news? This is fixable. But only if you’re willing to stop asking how to contain the fallout — and start asking how to earn credibility.