In the wake of the Sandy Hook school shooting in Newton, Connecticut in late 2012, General Electric announced that the company would no longer finance consumers’ gun purchases. Russell Wilkerson, a G.E. spokesman, wrote in an email that the new policy was being adopted “in light of industry changes, new legislation and tragic events that have caused widespread re-examination of policies on fire-arms.” In other words, the policy shift was not simply a reaction to Sandy Hook. Rather, the company’s executives were adapting to changes in the organization’s environment, including the industry itself. This opens up the question of whether the new policy can be classified under the rubric of corporate social responsibility (CSR). Perhaps the adaptation was simply good business, with the appearance of “CSR” adding some reputational capital through a good public-relations campaign.
Do business principles mandate treating this product like any other? Source: NBC News
Well-meaning moralists in particular may have a tendency to project their own strident sense of obligation onto other people, and even organizations as if they too could be moral agents. Yet an organization, like a biological organism, must adapt to its changing environment, or risk being replaced by a competitor that has achieved a better fit to the new environment. Does such adaptation, which renders a company more fit by means of a sort of competitive natural-selection process, involve obligation manifested as responsibility to that environment, or is the adapting simply a matter of survival and even accruing surplus? To do one’s duty is not typically said of what a person wants to do anyway in line with self-interest. A person would quickly see through my claim that it is my duty to eat the remaining chocolate sundae so not to waste food. People do not typically fall over themselves to do something out of a feeling of duty or felt responsibility. For the sense of obligation or responsibility to be the primary motivator, the person (or persons, in the case of a company) must not otherwise be inclined, as from the anticipation of a benefit, to act. When stimulated, self-interest tends to eclipse the feeling of duty of responsibility. This thesis can be applied to GE’s policy on financing firearm purchases.
First, though, can the policy be said to fall under the rubric of corporate social responsibility? What if marketing the policy was simply good business? The societal benefit in making it more difficult for people to buy guns may simply have been intended as a byproduct. Surely the societal good of a byproduct has worth even without having been motivated when the policy was chosen. Even so, the primacy of self-interest--the profit motive--irrationally taints the resulting societal good. Such a company's societal reputation would be enhanced by the good of the byproduct and decreased by the primary motivation of self-interest.
How salient was the profit-motive in GE's decision to stop lending on gun sales, and how great was the impact in terms of the benefit to society, beyond the company? GE Capital Finance had already stopped providing consumer financing for new gun-shop customers in 2008. The policy change in 2013 merely extended the ban to existing customers. So it is not as though potentially new customers would be discouraged from buying a gun on impulse for nefarious purposes. The impact on the bottom line from lost sales could not have been assumed to be great; even if new and existing gun customers had been eligible for financing before the policy change in 2013, we would still be talking about a small fraction of GE’s revenue. Additionally, according to USA Today in 2013, GE’s “decision affects fewer than 75 retailers, which GE says is about 0.001% of all gun retailers.” This is because the policy “affects only retailers that sell firearms exclusively.” General merchandise stores, such as Walmart, were excluded from the company’s lending ban.
However, Wells Fargo had stopped financing gun purchases in 2004 “for business reasons,” according to company spokeswoman Lisa Westermann. Perhaps it was good business at GE too, but not directly.
Indeed, the "corporate social responsibility" policy as promotion could have been expected to boost sales companywide without much cost in foregone gun sales on credit to new customers in gun stores only. In fact, the policy as promoted could even be misleading, as in the article's title in USA Today, “GE Won’t Make Loans to Buy Guns” even though GE would still be financing guns—just not through stores that sell only guns. The gap itself between the publicized and actual policy could mean that the managers' intent had been to use “marketed CSR” to boost the company's reputational capital with as little cost as possible. In other words, the profit-motive was likely the motive. If most of GE’s lending on gun purchases was through multi-merchandise retail stores, GE could capitalize financially on sympathy from the school shooting without having to give up much financially. Interestingly, the shooter’s father, Peter Lanza, was a GE executive at the time—the company being based in Fairfield, Connecticut. Had other GE executives felt obligated, also being at such close range to the tragedy, to protect the kids, we would not have seen the sort of motivation that led to the exceptions and allowing the misleading storyline to go uncorrected. Were the primary intent that of protecting kids at schools from getting shot, the loopholes would not have been allowed to exist even if GE had to wait for contract renewals with general-purpose retailers such as Walmart.
Often corporate social responsibility and business ethics are conflated. The distinction in this case is clear. The fitness of a policy to societal norms is a descriptive matter of whether organizational values are in sync with societal ones, whereas the misleading claim to have have ended loans on gun sales is a normative matter. Whether the norm in GE is consistent with the societal norm on the role of guns in the tragedies does not require justification by ethical reasoning and principles or theories. In contrast, whether a company should be misleading or even fail to stop it in the press necessarily includes resort to ethical principles, for only they can justify the claim that the motive or consequence is unethical.
Still another lesson to take from this case involves the choice to wade into a controversial societal issue. As in the case of gun control, which is really about access to guns, entering a controversial debate puts a company at risk for being negatively viewed by the “other side.” This could significantly reduce the good to the company obtained from the use of corporate social responsibility.
A USA Today poll taken at the time of the policy change in 2013 found public support for new gun-control legislation “slipping below” 50 percent. GE risked many people agreeing with John Meek, the owner of a gun store in Illinois, who called GE’s policy “an injustice” because the instrument rather than the user is being blamed. Howard Schultz of Starbucks, in contrast, correctly judged the changing American attitude toward gay marriage in using the company to promote the cause, even if a CEO using a company for a personal political agenda is unethical. A dramatically changing shift in societal mores, norms, or attitudes is like a wave that managers strategizing corporate social responsibility programs and policies can ride, whether the motive is financial gain only or includes improving the social good. What might seem like an easy way to enhance a company's societal reputation can easily backfire if not done with attention to a changing business environment.
First, though, can the policy be said to fall under the rubric of corporate social responsibility? What if marketing the policy was simply good business? The societal benefit in making it more difficult for people to buy guns may simply have been intended as a byproduct. Surely the societal good of a byproduct has worth even without having been motivated when the policy was chosen. Even so, the primacy of self-interest--the profit motive--irrationally taints the resulting societal good. Such a company's societal reputation would be enhanced by the good of the byproduct and decreased by the primary motivation of self-interest.
How salient was the profit-motive in GE's decision to stop lending on gun sales, and how great was the impact in terms of the benefit to society, beyond the company? GE Capital Finance had already stopped providing consumer financing for new gun-shop customers in 2008. The policy change in 2013 merely extended the ban to existing customers. So it is not as though potentially new customers would be discouraged from buying a gun on impulse for nefarious purposes. The impact on the bottom line from lost sales could not have been assumed to be great; even if new and existing gun customers had been eligible for financing before the policy change in 2013, we would still be talking about a small fraction of GE’s revenue. Additionally, according to USA Today in 2013, GE’s “decision affects fewer than 75 retailers, which GE says is about 0.001% of all gun retailers.” This is because the policy “affects only retailers that sell firearms exclusively.” General merchandise stores, such as Walmart, were excluded from the company’s lending ban.
However, Wells Fargo had stopped financing gun purchases in 2004 “for business reasons,” according to company spokeswoman Lisa Westermann. Perhaps it was good business at GE too, but not directly.
Indeed, the "corporate social responsibility" policy as promotion could have been expected to boost sales companywide without much cost in foregone gun sales on credit to new customers in gun stores only. In fact, the policy as promoted could even be misleading, as in the article's title in USA Today, “GE Won’t Make Loans to Buy Guns” even though GE would still be financing guns—just not through stores that sell only guns. The gap itself between the publicized and actual policy could mean that the managers' intent had been to use “marketed CSR” to boost the company's reputational capital with as little cost as possible. In other words, the profit-motive was likely the motive. If most of GE’s lending on gun purchases was through multi-merchandise retail stores, GE could capitalize financially on sympathy from the school shooting without having to give up much financially. Interestingly, the shooter’s father, Peter Lanza, was a GE executive at the time—the company being based in Fairfield, Connecticut. Had other GE executives felt obligated, also being at such close range to the tragedy, to protect the kids, we would not have seen the sort of motivation that led to the exceptions and allowing the misleading storyline to go uncorrected. Were the primary intent that of protecting kids at schools from getting shot, the loopholes would not have been allowed to exist even if GE had to wait for contract renewals with general-purpose retailers such as Walmart.
Often corporate social responsibility and business ethics are conflated. The distinction in this case is clear. The fitness of a policy to societal norms is a descriptive matter of whether organizational values are in sync with societal ones, whereas the misleading claim to have have ended loans on gun sales is a normative matter. Whether the norm in GE is consistent with the societal norm on the role of guns in the tragedies does not require justification by ethical reasoning and principles or theories. In contrast, whether a company should be misleading or even fail to stop it in the press necessarily includes resort to ethical principles, for only they can justify the claim that the motive or consequence is unethical.
Still another lesson to take from this case involves the choice to wade into a controversial societal issue. As in the case of gun control, which is really about access to guns, entering a controversial debate puts a company at risk for being negatively viewed by the “other side.” This could significantly reduce the good to the company obtained from the use of corporate social responsibility.
A USA Today poll taken at the time of the policy change in 2013 found public support for new gun-control legislation “slipping below” 50 percent. GE risked many people agreeing with John Meek, the owner of a gun store in Illinois, who called GE’s policy “an injustice” because the instrument rather than the user is being blamed. Howard Schultz of Starbucks, in contrast, correctly judged the changing American attitude toward gay marriage in using the company to promote the cause, even if a CEO using a company for a personal political agenda is unethical. A dramatically changing shift in societal mores, norms, or attitudes is like a wave that managers strategizing corporate social responsibility programs and policies can ride, whether the motive is financial gain only or includes improving the social good. What might seem like an easy way to enhance a company's societal reputation can easily backfire if not done with attention to a changing business environment.
Source:
Paul Davidson, “GE Won’t Make Loans to Buy Guns,” USA Today, April 25, 2013.
