True Accountability: The Hardest Step on the High Road

How facing myself — not just the consequences — taught me what real accountability means and why I keep learning it every day

Over the years, I’ve been asked to tailor my story to a variety of themes — ethics, decision-making, culture. But the most recurring one lately: accountability.

It makes sense. My crucible — how I crossed the line on Wall Street and eventually worked with the FBI to expose insider trading — is ultimately a cautionary tale about personal and professional accountability.

Yet “accountability” is one of those words we toss around without precision. To many, it feels like a corporate synonym for blame. But what I’ve learned — through painful, humbling experience — is that accountability isn’t about blame. It’s about ownership. Of actions. Of outcomes. Of the choices that lead to both.

Responsibility is Assigned. Accountability is Owned.

Let’s clear something up — because these two words get confused all the time: responsibility is assigned. Accountability is owned.

Responsibility is doing your job. Showing up. Following the plan. Accountability is raising your hand when something doesn’t go according to it.

In my work with clients, I’m often asked to frame my story around this theme. Accountability isn't just a buzzword in regulated industries — it's a survival strategy. Too often, firms build frameworks of responsibility but not cultures of accountability.

You can delegate responsibility. You can’t delegate accountability. Someone has to own it. Often, that someone is you.

The Mirror You Can’t Lie To

When I crossed the line professionally, I lived in a haze of secrecy, shame, and self-deception. One person I couldn’t lie to: myself.

I didn’t cross that line because of pressure or because “everyone else was doing it.” I crossed it because I avoided asking hard questions. I told myself I was doing my job — but I had stopped being honest about how I was doing it.

Accountability began when I stopped rationalizing and started reflecting.

Now, as a father to two teenage daughters, that same mirror still shows up — just in different moments. When I raise my voice because I’m stressed, I have a choice: deflect or own it. Saying “I’m sorry” to your teenager isn’t easy. But modeling accountability teaches more than any lecture ever could.

The same applies in my marriage. I’ve learned that accountability often means owning the moment you didn’t show up emotionally — not just physically. Not hiding behind silence. Not keeping score. Just saying, “I was wrong. I’m working on it.”

Accountability Is Modeled, Not Mandated

In my talks, I emphasize that accountability spreads through example — not enforcement.

The most effective leaders I’ve met — whether at multinationals or small firms — aren’t the ones who bark orders. They’re the ones who model humility. They ask, “What did I miss?” before asking that of others. That posture doesn’t erode authority — it earns trust.

I’ve had compliance officers share that the most powerful moments come not when they introduce a new policy, but when they admit, “I missed that one.” It shifts the room. It sets the tone.

When Systems Reward Silence

Across industries — finance, tech, healthcare — I’ve seen a pattern: many organizations say they want accountability, but their systems are built to avoid it.

They reward staying in your lane. Completing tasks. Keeping your head down instead of speaking up.

That doesn’t build trust. It breeds silence.

At a healthcare company I worked with, a facilities supervisor noticed the protocol for transporting patient records was inconsistently followed. It wasn’t her department, and technically not her “responsibility”, but she quietly brought it up to compliance. After reviewing it, the team discovered a training gap that could’ve led to a HIPAA violation. Because she took ownership, they avoided a breach — and improved onboarding.

No policy told her to act. She simply owned it.

That’s the kind of person who moves an organization forward. And that’s what great culture does — it empowers people to improve how things get done.

Focus on Results, Not Just Roles

Too often, we confuse accountability with task completion. “I did my part.” But if the kitchen’s still a mess after everyone “does their part,” who’s accountable?

A friend of mine runs a community garden program with high schoolers — many of them considered at-risk. Each student has a task — watering, weeding, harvesting. For a while, it was chaos. Everyone did their job, but nothing synced. The plants were overwatered, the weeds returned, produce rotted in the bins.

So, he changed one rule: “Don’t leave until the garden looks right. Not your job — our result.”

Now they coordinate. They check each other’s work. They stay late. Because they care about the result, not the checklist.

That’s the heart of accountability: do what it takes to get the outcome — together.

Lessons from the Boxing Gym

Last year, at 46, I walked into a boxing gym for the first time. I’d never thrown a punch in my life — and I was decades older than most in the room. In other words, I was the new old guy.

My background was in endurance sports: ultramarathons, long solo runs, pushing myself in quiet, methodical ways. Boxing was a different universe. Fast. Demanding. Unforgiving.

Everyone was on a different level. Some had real experience. Others moved with the kind of speed and confidence I didn’t yet have.

But I wasn’t there to measure myself against them. I was there to keep competing with the only opponent that’s always with me: myself. To show up. To learn. To stay uncomfortable.

And I get humbled every time. In boxing, like in life, there’s nowhere to hide. If you take a clean shot, there’s no one to blame. You didn’t move. You didn’t protect yourself. That’s on you.

That truth follows me — into my home, into my work, into every presentation where I ask people to be honest about risk, culture, and their choices.

Because if I’m going to challenge others to own their story, I have to keep owning mine. Last year. This year. Every round. Every day.

Accountability Isn’t a Burden. It’s Your Edge.

Blame is easy. Accountability is honest.

Blame protects ego. Accountability builds trust.

Blame is reactive. Accountability is generative.

If you’re leading a firm, a classroom, a family, or even just yourself — don’t start by telling others to “be accountable.”

Start by showing them how.

Because as I’ve learned, no one raises the bar for accountability higher than the person who lives it. And sometimes, that person is simply the one looking back at you in the mirror.