Many companies have shady pasts. AkuraYochi/ShutterstockCorporate history belongs to everyone. It belongs just as much to communications professionals keen to craft unifying narratives for their clients and staff, as it does to historians who advocate honesty when it comes to the grey areas. To prevent the past from being rewritten, researchers are calling for the promotion of an ‘ethic of organisational memory’.The way organisations construct their past is never trivial; it is the result of a collective, negotiated – and sometimes conflict-ridden process involving stakeholders with divergent interests. For example, Lacoste makes no mention of the 1990s, a decade marked by internal conflicts. Numerous examples illustrate the ethical questions that society and businesses are only just beginning – at best – to articulate.In our research, published in the Journal of Business Ethics and Décisions Marketing, we examine how these narratives are actually constructed, who negotiates them, who yields, who resists these constructions, and also what these practices reveal about organisations’ responsibility toward their past.Our findings have led us to advocate for the emergence of a new ethic of organisational memory centred on dialogue, corporate accountability, spaces for deliberation, and a certain courage in the face of organisations’ potential dark hours.‘Rhetorical History’Corporate museums, travelling exhibitions, commemorative books, advertising campaigns are often saturated with sepia tones and references to a company’s origins… for firms, historical heritage has become an asset in its own right, managed, promoted and monetised. Hermès showcases its archives in a Parisian concept store, Michelin offers an immersive experience in Clermont-Ferrand, and The Laughing Cow (brand of processed cheese) has opened a museum-house on the very site where it was founded in 1921.Since the mid-2000s, this trend has sparked a wave of research in management sciences centred around ‘uses of the past’. Researchers Andrew Popp, Roy Suddaby, Mads Mordhorst and Daniel Wadhwani have shown that history is not simply about what happened, but what organisations choose to make of it. Roy Suddaby speaks of ‘rhetorical history: the past can be a tool for persuasion, legitimisation and differentiation.It is within this field that our research is situated, focusing on a question that its founders have explored only to a limited extent: that of ethical issues. For a brand with deep-rooted heritage and expertise passed down through the generations acquires a form of moral authority that is difficult to challenge. Historical legitimacy is a market value of the highest order.But who, exactly, constructs this history?Honesty about the grey areasBehind every brand narrative lies a network of diverse stakeholders, both within and outside the organisation: academic historians commissioned for one-off projects, consultants specialising in 'heritage branding’, in-house archive managers, art directors, exhibition designers and marketing managers.We conducted interviews with these various professionals and studied six major French companies: Air France, Hermès, Lacoste, The Laughing Cow, Michelin and SNCF – to better understand how two main approaches clash, rarely in harmony.On the one hand, historians – whether academics or consultancy specialists – advocate a code of ethics based on the rigour of sources, the comprehensiveness of the narrative and honesty regarding grey areas. One of them refused to sign off on a book commissioned by a major bank, the text of which had been expurgated of all references to the occupation of France during WWII:‘You give me my money and publish whatever you like. But without my name.’On the other hand, marketing and communications teams think primarily in terms of narrative coherence, brand positioning and appeal to consumers. The past is, above all, raw material to be shaped in the service of a present-day strategy and a unifying narrative. Some admit this quite openly: they search the archives for material that supports the desired narrative, not necessarily what is most representative of historical reality.“The ‘Inside Chanel’ films are a textbook example that glorifies the founder’s story. But it is also a skilful rewriting: controversial subjects are carefully erased, a far cry from what serious historical research reveals,” points out a brand heritage consultant. Inside Chanel on YouTube. Between these two professions, compromises are negotiated, sometimes amid tension. The roles become blurred: the historian advises on ‘marketing assets’, while the marketing department decides on the interpretation of the past. What one deems unacceptable, the other calls an editorial choice, each responding to the demands of their profession.Such uses of the past can thus give rise to abuses of memory.Misuse of memoryThe misuse of memory extends beyond the companies that practise it. It affects the collective memory. Major brands are powerful cultural actors, whose narratives circulate in advertising campaigns, museums and exhibitions.When an industrial company retrospectively portrays itself as a pioneer of the ecological transition, or when a luxury brand gives the impression of having an unbroken tradition, they are writing a history whose terms they control while profiting from it.The problem is not what they say about their past, but that this narrative presents itself as something it is not, feeding potentially misleading stories into the public consciousness: “Consumers cannot tell what is true and what is false,” a historian-consultant told us.Repressed, manipulated or forced memoryTo understand these tensions, in one of our articles we drew on the work of the philosopher Paul Ricœur, whose book La Mémoire, l'histoire, l'oubli (2000) distinguishes three types of abuse within political societies. These categories apply with unsettling accuracy to the world of organisations.Repressed memoryThis is the silence surrounding what is uncomfortable: social conflicts, compromises with unsavoury regimes, or governance scandals. A financial institution that erases its involvement in the financing of slave plantations in the 19th century is not merely committing a commercially embarrassing omission; it is concealing potentially significant historical responsibilities.Our interviewees agree on this point: an organisation should not lie about its past. They differ, however, on what constitutes a lie. For some, omission is acceptable, even necessary. For others, it amounts to censorship.Manipulated memoryThis is the most widespread and insidious form of memory manipulation; the facts are not suppressed, but reinterpreted to make them say what they never said. A historian working for a large company recounted the following awkward situation to us: in 1996, the company launched a technological trial driven by performance requirements, with no environmental considerations whatsoever. Years later, this trial is presented as proof that the company was a ‘pioneer in environmental matters’.This is a common practice. A non-chronological exhibition creates an artificial continuity that erases the breaks in the narrative. Its effectiveness lies precisely in its blend of the true and the fabricated (authentic archives, real objects, sincere testimonies, etc.), which makes it difficult for an uninformed public to unpick.Forced memoryThis represents the opposite extreme: a duty to remember transformed into a communication tool. Anniversaries outside jubilee years, founders elevated to mythical status, national events harnessed to reinforce a brand identity, and so on. A heritage communications manager ironically described this as the art of riding ‘the retro wave, the enthusiasm for nostalgia and authenticity’.The collective memory of a profession, a region or an era ends up being captured for the benefit of a single brand, which derives disproportionate legitimacy from it.The ethics of organisational memoryIn light of these findings, what can be done?At a time when companies are expected to demonstrate transparency and consistency, the management of memory can no longer be left solely to communications professionals. Constructing historical narratives is an ethical act. Whether selecting, omitting, highlighting or concealing, all these decisions shape the way in which an organisation chooses to accept or reject its responsibilities.This also involves structuring the dialogue between stakeholders so that archivists, historians, communications teams and senior management can work hand in hand. Genuine forums for deliberation, where historical rigour, objectives and narrative imperatives are negotiated transparently, would be a first step in this direction.This requires acknowledging that certain uncomfortable truths can become a resource. Organisations that have confronted difficult chapters of their history have often found that this honesty ultimately strengthens the trust of their audiences.The past does not belong exclusively to anyone. It is a shared, fragmentary asset, constantly subject to interpretation. Companies that make use of it have a responsibility commensurate with the influence they wield. Paul Ricœur spoke of ‘just memory’; neither an obsession with the past nor a comfortable amnesia.Organisations, too, should be held to this standard.Les auteurs ne travaillent pas, ne conseillent pas, ne possèdent pas de parts, ne reçoivent pas de fonds d'une organisation qui pourrait tirer profit de cet article, et n'ont déclaré aucune autre affiliation que leur organisme de recherche.