We ask much from those who aspire to govern our colleges: excellent strategy in an ever-changing financial and political environment; responsibility for vast sums of public funding, which are never sufficient to deliver the goals of the aspirational strategist; and, finally, guaranteeing excellent employee conditions over which they will have limited control - and all while ensuring an exceptional experience is provided to students.

Over the past 31 years, I’ve been fortunate to work with some of the very best chairs and principals in the sector - people who truly understood public service and stewardship, and governed from a deep well of personal integrity. Unfortunately, I’ve also known one or two less-than-stellar chairs and the odd wayward principal, too. But my interest in all things governance has deepened over the past two years, for very obvious reasons.

For those unaware, in 2015 I was summarily suspended without explanation from my role as principal of Glasgow Clyde College by the chair of the board, the day after I voiced concerns over said chair’s governance of the college. For the avoidance of doubt, Glasgow Clyde College is an excellent institution and its governance has happily returned to its previous high standard - what the people in that college achieved under those very difficult circumstances is exceptional.

But back to my suspension, which was only lifted nine months later, after the Scottish government took the unprecedented action of removing the chair and board members for governance failures. That period, with sustained media scrutiny and public attention, has left its scars, and it did not end with my return to post. Only last month, the Court of Session dismissed an appeal by one board member against his removal from the board of Glasgow Clyde, his argument, among others, being that he had no role in my suspension.

For me, governance needs two things: tight legislation (the right thing to do) and good people (doing it right). Since incorporation, we’ve had a few colleges “invited” to meet the Public Audit Committee over governance concerns. No matter how few of such instances there are, even one is unacceptable. Governors walk away and staff and students are left to bear the brunt. Insanity has been described as repeatedly doing the same thing and expecting a different outcome; our governance insanity appears to be the inability to learn from our past.

The law is no guarantee

Read previous committee reports and the same issues arise time and again: the capacity of one or two to lose sight of the reality of their role and the limits of their power. Others around them appear either unable or unwilling, perhaps through a sense of mistaken loyalty, to make appropriate challenge. Groupthink takes over, and an inescapable spiral of apparent self-justification and obfuscation results. So, if our previous legislation and self-directed codes didn’t cure our insanity, how well will the Post-16 Education (Scotland) Act 2013 and Code of Good Governance for Scotland’s Colleges serve us in a new age of uncontrolled social media and post-truth?

It seems to me that legislation is the framework laying out the government’s intended benefits to society, and a code is an aspirational guide to implementation. Relying on these alone does not guarantee good governance, and lulls the unwary into accepting a simplistic and superficial conceptual model, which misses out the now increased complexity and interplay between personal integrity, governance and, critically, employment law; for governors are employers, and in the case of staff and students, governors are also employees - and being an employee carries risk. (Tell me about it.)

Legislation never emerges perfect and fully formed. Despite the good intentions that underpin the 2013 Act, it should be tested. That is how the law improves: through implementation, appeals, clarification and judgement. The judicial review against a board member’s removal from the board of Glasgow Clyde College for governance failures was its first real test.

In his response, Lord Clark was clear and unequivocal: board members have collective responsibility. That doesn’t mean groupthink is acceptable. Support is important on a board but it comes only after each individual member has challenged, not just the executive, but each other and the chair; seeking evidence, showing independence of thinking, remembering that it’s the tax take from ordinary people they are spending. This is not unfamiliar to most but clearly needs reinforcement.

I don’t believe people come to work to do a rubbish job or join college boards to be rubbish governors. But we need answers to serious questions. Who is ultimately responsible for governance? How do we ensure that those who raise concerns are protected, be they governor, chair, principal, staff or student? What happens when a principal or other employee raises concerns and is immediately suspended - do governance concerns or employment law take precedence?

And who is responsible for making sure proper procedures and processes are in place, and that people are treated with transparency and fairness when a chair and board refuses to follow good HR practice? What sanctions should be applied if someone has wilfully acted in a reckless manner or without due consideration of proper advice? Should that individual be charged with malfeasance in a public office and, where applicable, have to personally repay ill-spent money to the public coffers?

You cannot serve two masters

For me, the jury is metaphorically out on how willing we are to face our governance demons. The Scottish Parliament’s public audit and post-legislative scrutiny committee has yet to consider the Glasgow Clyde section 22 report on previous governance failures. One interesting thread that awaits unravelling is the relationship between an assigned college and its regional strategic body - one being the employer, but both having accountability for public funding and performance. A man cannot serve two masters.

It should not take action by the entire Scottish Parliament to remove a college chair and board members when there is clear evidence of poor governance. There must be more nuanced and creative ways to prevent, and to treat, future recurrences of our insanity. If we don’t grasp the nettle, then we are doomed to repeat the mistakes of our past - and my sector’s worth more than that, even if I’m not around to see it. Colleges: over to you.

Susan Walsh recently retired as principal of Glasgow Clyde College