What the Dutch Taught Me About Integrity (and Saying What You Mean)

Why clear communication builds stronger cultures

This year, I spent time at the Dutch central bank, where people build policy frameworks the way some of us build IKEA furniture—meticulously, sturdily, and with quiet confidence that they know what they’re doing. It was there, in the middle of a culture supervision project and a surprisingly strong espresso, that I discovered something remarkable: Dutch business culture has figured out something the rest of us are still workshopping in breakout rooms and LinkedIn carousels. Namely, that honesty is a form of respect, not confrontation.

In Dutch offices, people say what they mean. If something doesn’t make sense, they tell you. Not six weeks later in a post-mortem. Not via a vague email. Not buried in a 37-slide PowerPoint that ends with “next steps TBD.” They just say it. Clearly. Kindly. Immediately.

I once gave a presentation at the Dutch central bank where someone—calmly and without malice—interrupted me mid-slide to say, “This part is unclear. Why are you saying it this way?” And I blinked. And then I realized: they weren’t trying to embarrass me. They were trying to understand. I had never felt more respected in a professional setting.

This is the part people miss when they talk about Dutch directness. It’s not cold. It’s trust and it’s care. You don’t sugarcoat things you take seriously. You don’t waste someone’s time with hollow praise if you believe they can do better. You treat people like adults, equals, and colleagues who deserve your truth.

To be clear, I love many things about American business culture. We’re inventive. We adapt quickly. We bring optimism to chaos and get things done. But let’s be honest: we also approach meetings the way college freshmen approach free pizza—with wild enthusiasm, zero restraint, and no memory of the last time we said no. We schedule feedback for “later,” which is American for “never,” and when something clearly isn’t working, we call it “a great learning opportunity” while syncing on our evolving framework for optional success.

In contrast, Dutch business culture has no patience for fluff. No one says “thought partner” unironically. No one calls ethics “a journey.” At the Dutch central bank, when they assess culture, it’s not to check a box or impress a committee. It’s to understand whether people are actually behaving in line with values, and whether leadership is earning trust. Compliance isn’t a punishment. It’s a shared commitment. And culture isn’t what you say in the town hall; it’s what you do when no one’s watching.

Here’s the most surprising thing of all: it’s not colder. It’s warmer. Because when people say what they mean, you don’t have to decode anything. You don’t need 14 pulse surveys a quarter when people can speak their minds. You don’t need “value champions” when the value is built into how people treat each other every day.

So no, the Dutch don’t do small talk. But they do honesty. And in my experience, that’s what real integrity looks like: clear words, steady actions, and the belief that respect begins with the truth.