One of my (many) formative experiences in programme delivery was working with a banking client in 2018 right when TSB’s troubled data migration hit the headlines. It was variously described as a ‘meltdown’ and a ‘fiasco’ in the popular press, who carried stories on a daily basis ranging from customers being unable to pay their mortgages or access their accounts, through to one mythical account holder who had supposedly found an extra £5M in his bank account. As ever, there were two sides to the story and a lot of sensationalism, but what I remember most vividly was the shock expressed by the board members of the client bank. Several of them knew the CEO of TSB, Paul Pester, very well and had a very high opinion of him, but what had surprised them the most was his appearance in front of the Treasury Select Committee in the midst of the crisis, and specifically the extent to which Pester was expected, as the accountable exec, to be sighted on the details of the data migration, the problems and the remedial actions. The fundamental shift was the translation of executive accountability into detailed, almost forensic knowledge before, during and after the fact when sponsoring a high-stakes programme. The most confrontational moment of the Treasury Select Committee appearance was when Charlie Elphicke, now a former, disgraced MP and convicted sex offender, but then a Committee member, tackled Pester regarding his executive responsibility:
Q23
Charlie Elphicke: “Are you in full control of your company—yes or no?”
Paul Pester: “Yes.”
Q24
Charlie Elphicke: “Who does the buck stop with?”
Paul Pester: “The buck stops with me.”
Q25
Charlie Elphicke: “You take full responsibility for what has happened.”
Paul Pester: “Of course I do. Let me be crystal clear: I take absolute responsibility for what has happened to TSB customers. I take absolute responsibility for the inconvenience that we have caused customers. I apologise profusely.”
The characterisation of responsibility was uncompromising; no ifs, buts or maybes. No acknowledgement of the complexities of life in a corporate entity, the business world or the inability of any human being to be omnisicient. What followed the admission of responsibility was a relentless focus by Committee members on the details of the data migration. The notion that an executive director cannot be both a mile wide and a mile deep never entered the fray during that grilling. In the aftermath of the incident, Pester held true to his promise to take absolute responsibility and resigned from TSB. He was subsequently found not to have committed any wrongdoing by the FCA, the PRA and an independent investigation undertaken by Slaughter and May.
If TSB was an isolated case, the story would end there, but the last two decades have seen a large number of notable instances where both executive and non-executive board members have been forced to fall on their swords because of the outcomes of programmes of which they demonstrably held no detailed knowledge. The most recent example was Dax Harkins, CEO at NS&I, but wind the clock back to 2014. Brewin Dolphin’s 2014 write-off of its Figaro project was quickly followed by the wholesale replacement of all but one member of its board.
The challenge remains the same in 2026, and it’s a challenge that any board faces when its organisation is conducting a high-stakes programme – which is almost every organisation on the planet right now: How does the board meet its responsibilities re oversight of high-stakes programmes?
Inevitably, it has to rely heavily on the executive sponsor, but with triangulation, and that triangulation for the board not only protects them, it protects the executive sponsor. Assurance provides that triangulation.
The moral of the tale? Whilst the programme itself is a beneficiary of programme assurance, as is the board, the client is, and should always be, the executive sponsor.