‘Idealism can make you less empathetic’

“Life isn’t fair,” her father, an internationally operating businessman, tells her as a life lesson during their years in Hong Kong. ‘I could get very angry about that. I said: then you fight for it to be fair, right? That is still my attitude.’

As far as 47-year-old Tessa Wernink is concerned, ‘resistance’ should become a subject at schools and universities. To encourage this, she provides training in ‘undercover activism’: she helps employees of companies or institutions to take positive actions to take action against an incorrect or inadequate course imposed from above. She points out their rights, the importance of corporate culture and how to take collective action. She sees this ’employee activism’ not only catching on with young people, but also with older people who, for example, are tired of their employer’s sustainability policy. The urge occurs across a broad front, she notes, within companies, governments, healthcare and non-governmental organizations.

The fact that she ended up on this path is a result of her experiences in the business world. After studying English and several years as a teacher in Japan, she worked successively at the Okura Hotel in Shanghai, at Schiphol and at Fairphone, the manufacturer of the most responsibly produced smartphone. She is one of the four founders of the Amsterdam company in 2013. She experienced ‘the best period’ of her working life, but said goodbye in 2018 after an internal power struggle.

After several years of reflection, as far as possible as a mother of three young children, she starts giving her training. She sees this as a contribution to her ideal of a ‘sustainable, just and inclusive society, even though I know that will not happen’. What matters to her is not the goal, but the path to it. ‘We must learn to listen, to be open to truths other than our own.’

For company executives, this means distancing themselves from ‘superiority thinking’, which ‘often bothers managers’. What often escapes them is the knowledge that is available on the work floor, especially where contact with the outside world is made. ‘It often doesn’t reach the top, but it should help determine the course.’

It is therefore important for a company to gain insight into that undercurrent, ‘that which is going on, but is not quickly visible’. Resistance in the workplace can help a company – it is ‘not the enemy, but a source of energy’.

In your youth you called the business world “empty” to your father, but you still ended up in it. How do you explain that?

‘After my time teaching English in Japan, I came to work at the Okura Hotel in Shanghai – I saw that mainly as a springboard to something else. It turned out to be a very commercial environment, in which everything revolved around money. In the sales department my job was to attract Western businessmen. I had a problem with their attitude towards China – they only came to get something out of the country, not to do anything for it. In short, it was an environment where I didn’t feel at home at all.’

You then ended up in the Netherlands, not your favorite destination.

‘I indeed had mixed feelings about that return. The first ten years of my life in Hong Kong had been very beautiful – ‘the golden years’, as my mother called them. That changed when we moved to Wassenaar. I spent some pretty lonely teenage years there. The dominant culture in Wassenaar is doing exactly as it should be. I adapted, but felt that I was sacrificing something of myself in doing so. I lacked contact with others who dared to deviate from the norm. After my final exams, I immediately went abroad. So returning to the Netherlands was not my preference.’

You got a job at Schiphol. Did you try to put all your ideals into practice there?

“Honestly, that’s always been part of my life. At Schiphol I was allowed to focus on sustainability, but under pressure from the outside world it had become a theme. We were allowed to become more sustainable, but our financial director set an important condition: only if it would generate money. It was also significant that the theme was assigned to the communications department where I worked. I also felt out of place at Schiphol. Most employees were not concerned with change, but with keeping their nice, safe jobs. During a reorganisation, I seized the opportunity to get away.’

At Fairphone you then ended up in the warm bath of a passionate, idealistic environment.

‘It certainly felt that way in the first few years. We did not start as a company, but as a campaign, devised by Bas van Abel of internet pioneer De Waag. We wanted to make people aware of the raw materials in their phones: the ‘conflict minerals’ that are often extracted under terrible conditions in countries such as China and Congo. We Are Fairphone, was the name of our campaign. I joined when it went from a campaign to a business. Let’s make our own telephone, we thought. That was really daring, because Bas and I were neither technicians. But we had built up a network of thousands of interested people.

‘We went to China to view a factory and to Congo for ‘conflict-free’ raw materials whose origins we could trace. A great adventure. After six months we were reinforced by a technical man. When we gave our followers the opportunity to subscribe to the first Fairphone, three million euros were in our bank account in no time. “Holy shit, we really have to do it,” said Bas. Personally, I was extremely enthusiastic.

‘The first years were pioneering, inventing everything. We started a project with the employees of the Chinese factory, which would allow them to participate in decision-making. We made it clear to our customers: a real fairphone does not exist, but we strive for it. We tempered expectations. Rightly so, it soon became apparent, because the delivery of the first telephones was difficult. Moreover, they appeared to have many technical problems. Our first buyers became our testers, they came back with all kinds of complaints. We got the reputation that our phone had a nice story, but was not a good product.’

Did idealism collide with reality at that moment?

‘Well, everyone agreed that the phone had to work properly. The discussion was mainly: how do we get there? At one point we were in danger of choosing partners who were good for the telephone, but offered poor conditions for their employees. These kinds of dilemmas make social entrepreneurship so difficult. Gradually I got the feeling that the focus on the product was putting our ideals under strain. This also had to do with a new shareholder and managers who wanted to run the company top-down. I was given the role of the conscience of the company, so people responded to me along the lines of: oh, here she starts again. While everyone should be aware of that. I did have authority, but I was also undermined. But I don’t want to see myself as a victim. Ultimately, returning after the birth of my third child, I decided to leave.’

What was the lesson for you?

‘An important lesson is that a social enterprise must organize its relationship with shareholders differently than an ordinary company. Shareholders encourage profit maximization, which means that the company itself is seen as a product on which a return must be achieved. A social enterprise is better off embracing a ‘steward ownership’ model, in which the ideal of the company comes first and shareholders serve it. Then you do have a certain profit target, but that profit is not for the shareholders, but for the company itself and the social goals you set for yourself.’

Do you still have a warm feeling about Fairphone?

‘Not for a long time, leaving was too painful for that. I really felt at home there, it was intertwined with my identity. I fought hard for my ideals and for the connection between founders and shareholders. The latter did not work out, but I am proud that the company still presents itself as I thought at the time: without the pretense that our smartphone is completely sustainable and without putting down other smartphone manufacturers, but above all with the emphasis on our trying to do the best for the planet and for people.

‘The most important lesson is that it is not enough for a company to have a vision and jointly express values. Even more important is the question: how do you plan to achieve that? And how do you deal with each other? If you focus on future results above all, there is a great risk that you will fight each other in the dilemmas and conflicts that arise every day. Then there is a great danger that you will no longer be able to listen to abnormal sounds.’

That is why you have ended up with resistance training for the workplace. How is the response to this?

‘The participating employees often find it especially nice to experience that their desire for change is shared, before they have often been on their own. The training often makes their desire for it more fervent and they start all kinds of projects internally. They also often decide to stay in their jobs longer after having doubts about it due to lack of change. I find that very positive, because I am convinced that companies need exactly these types of people.’

How do companies view it?

‘When we offer them our training for their employees, we notice that they are hesitant about activism. They see the importance of change, but they want to keep that process under control. Fortunately, a handful of companies have dared to do it, including a supermarket group and a headhunting agency. They realize that they have to remain attractive to younger generations, who take it much less for granted that your work is a place where you also take off your ideals along with your coat. An international study by Deloitte shows that about half of young professionals expect their employer to be open to you being able to work on issues such as climate, justice and inclusivity through your work. They have embraced the idea that you bring your whole self to work, including your ideals. That’s a new look at what work can entail.’

Do you also see a dark side to idealism?

‘In my opinion, the greatest danger is that you become insufficiently empathetic, because ideals can prevent you from listening to others. When your goals dominate, it becomes difficult to be open to other points of view – I learned that at Fairphone. I don’t believe that’s my own pitfall. My favorite Loesje saying is: ‘My principles are so high that I can just walk under them.’ So I can put them into perspective. But I’ve never had any trouble standing up for them.’