Octavio and I met at a mining conference in the summer of 2012, in the storied city of Guanajuato. We
were introduced at a luncheon organised by AIMMGM (Asociación de Ingenieros de Minas,
Metalurgistas y Geólogos de México). A mutual friend whom I’d met at an APEC conference in Legazpi,
in the Philippines, earlier that year thought our meeting could help usher in a new era in responsible
mining in Mexico. His instincts did him credit.
The following month Octavio was promoted to CEO of Fresnillo plc., the world’s largest primary silver
producer, and not long after that we spoke again. He wanted to take stock of the company’s standing in
terms of its social performance, and he asked me to assist him with this task. From the beginning I was
made aware of his quiet intelligence, his openness, his humanity. At his request I visited 8 sites, from
exploration through to development and production, in the states of Durango, Chihuahua, Sonora,
Zacatecas and Guanajuato. I personally carried out 259 interviews with individuals and groups at mine
sites and in adjacent communities, and I interviewed board members of Grupo BAL, Fresnillo’s principal,
in Mexico City.
This research resulted in an extensive report complete with an assessment of social risks and
opportunities, a review of relevant global standards and programmes, and a vision for embarking on a
“big hairy audacious goal” that could position Fresnillo as a leader in the sector. Given its antiseptic
properties, we would use silver — the very material Fresnillo mines — to address one of the risks
identified in the report: access to clean drinking water. I presented the concept to management and
members of the board, who were genuinely inspired by the idea and gave it their full support. Fresnillo
would spearhead the Pure Silver Initiative, which, using silver as a disinfectant, introduces water-wise
solutions to disadvantaged communities through programmes that are both educational and culturally
engaging.
In order to realise this new vision, we had to transition into a closer working relationship. It started with
Octavio and I, ready to listen, willing to experiment, and perhaps most importantly, prepared to step
outside our comfort zones. Our different backgrounds — his, in mining engineering and finance, mine, in
social anthropology and community development — and the synergy between us proved an asset from
which innovation could emerge for an industry looking for renewed relevance.
As the Harvard Business School professor, James Austin, argues, cross-sectoral alliances between, for
example, the private sector and non-profits can have not only positive social impacts but lead to
significant value creation. While guidelines exist on business development and project planning and
execution, our new enterprise was more than that, it was about two people and their visions for an
enlightened industry and a better world. For guidance on the human relationships upon which strategic
partnerships are built, one must look elsewhere. One of these places is inside yourself.
When I began working in mining over a decade ago, a close friend and colleague suggested I produce a
“personal constitution” — basically, a document that lays out one's mission and values, a kind of moral
compass to steer by through challenging times. Sheltering at a cafe in rain-soaked Vancouver, he told
me this would be a vital reference in navigating the contested waters of mining and sustainability.
An external advisor can, and is in fact expected, to provide a perspective not attained from the inside.
Diverse viewpoints are meant exactly for that, to render visible blind spots others can’t see. The art of
implementation is different, it forces one to adapt one’s vision to the reality of things on the ground. In
making this adaptation there is risk that one’s vision may be unduly compromised. It is the classic
challenge between theory and practice. It is here where that personal constitution is critical.
So yes, collaboration across sectors comes with challenges. But this tension is not only inevitable, it is
good. This is something geologists and miners know only too well — challenging conditions are
necessary for the creation of beautiful, sparkling diamonds. There is a metaphor in this for all of us. The
experience of sustained collaboration has taught Octavio and I the value of creative thinking, the
importance of undoing barriers, and the need for an allowance of experimentation and evaluation,
without losing sight of one’s vision and respecting the other to do the same. But the most invaluable
lesson for us has been that there is one thing you can not do without — and that is trust.