‘I am a FTSE-100 board member with a disability. It’s time for others to speak up’
Sara Weller
Sara Weller
Whenever I explain why my experiences should matter to British business, I hope it’s the last time I have to do so. That maybe someone else will be inspired to pick up the baton and explain why they, too, need to be heard. But so far, nothing.
Almost a quarter of the population has some kind of physical, mental or neurological condition that means they navigate the world in a different way. Who knows how many of my fellow FTSE-100 board members are living with a disability? It could easily be 150 yet only one is talking openly about it. Me.
Why the wall of silence? What happened to “authentic leadership”? Do leaders fear that shareholders will suddenly view them as ill-equipped to do the job? And what message does leaders’ silence send to their employees? Role models are crucial in business, so if leaders hide this part of themselves, employees will fear they must do the same.
This is what I call the “Great Veil of Secrecy”, where no one inside the company talks about disability and many customers see an organisation that, at best, doesn’t understand or, at worst, doesn’t care about their needs.
I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2009, and now use a wheelchair to get around. In the years since, I have been the managing director of Argos and sat on the boards of Virgin Money, Lloyds Banking Group, United Utilities, DWP and Cambridge University. I am now on the board at BT and chair the government’s Money and Pensions Service.
No one has told me my condition prevents me from helping huge organisations work more effectively. On the contrary, I have an extra understanding of people’s realities, enabling me to bring insights that I hope help these organisations connect more closely with customers and staff.
Do leaders fear shareholders will view them as ill-equipped to do the job? And what message does leaders’ silence send to their employees?
In my four decades of work, extraordinary strides have been taken to make business more representative of wider society. Social background, sexual orientation, education, ethnicity and gender matter less now than they did before.
In the workplace, people are not judged as they once were. But put someone in a wheelchair, give them a white cane or enquire about their mental health, and they suddenly become “different”, or worse, invisible and irrelevant.
These are tough times to be arguing for disability inclusion. Trump’s “war on woke” rages around us. I don’t care if we lose the letters DEI (diversity, equality and inclusion), but I will fight ceaselessly to build workforces that reflect our customers.
In February, I launched ActionAble, with a virtual summit and day of action where more than 60 business leaders shared practical advice on improving disability inclusion.
I’ve learned so much since launching what I hope will be a vehicle for broader change.
Two ambitions underpin our work. First, that all big businesses commit to end disability exclusion and publicly report on progress every year until they get there. Second, that other business leaders join me by sharing stories, to make conversation with disabled employees as open as it is outside the workplace.
Yet what ActionAble has not achieved is to make me less lonely. Not one other on the board of a FTSE-100 company has reached out before, during or after to say: “Sara, thanks for sharing your story. Now I am ready to and share mine.”
I want to spend the year ahead – leading up to the second of what I hope will be annual ActionAble events – hearing and learning from the voices of my fellow leaders. When they speak out, they become role models who inspire the next generation to be who they are.
I will keep telling my story but now it’s time for you to tell yours. No change happens without the right “tone from the top”.
The Observer is keen to hear from other leaders living with a disability. Contact us at readers@observer.co.uk
Photograph by Westend61/Chris Ryan