When we speak about corruption, we often imagine envelopes of cash changing hands, inflated contracts or abuse of office. Those are the obvious forms of corruption. They are easier to identify, investigate and condemn.
But the Anti-Corruption Commission’s (ACC) National Integrity Assessment 2025 draws attention to something far more subtle, and perhaps more dangerous. It warns that Bhutan’s corruption landscape is increasingly shaped by “low-visibility” risks: favouritism, nepotism, conflicts of interest, reciprocal arrangements and informal influence. These are not dramatic acts splashed across newspaper headlines. They happen quietly, behind office doors, over phone calls, during family gatherings and through personal networks.
And that should make every Bhutanese pause.
Ask any human resource officer what causes the greatest pressure during transfer season. It is not paperwork. It is the endless requests from friends, relatives and acquaintances asking for “just a little help.”
Ask a doctor. They will tell you about requests to move someone up a waiting list, issue a certificate, or make an exception.
If you go higher up, ask procurement officials, who face recommendations for contractors, suppliers and consultants, often from people they know or people who know someone important.
Most of these requests do not involve money. They are presented as harmless favours, acts of friendship or obligations arising from relationships. Many begin with familiar phrases: “If possible…”, “Please help this once…”, or “You know our family.”
But every such request asks a public official to choose a person over a principle. That is where low-visibility corruption begins.
We often comfort ourselves by saying that such behaviour is part of our culture, that Bhutan is a close-knit society where everyone knows everyone else. There is truth in that. Relationships are one of our greatest strengths. They create trust, solidarity and mutual support.
But relationships become a weakness when they interfere with fairness.
The ACC is right to point out that these subtle practices are difficult to detect because they are embedded in everyday administrative processes and personal interactions. No software can easily identify a favour quietly requested over dinner. Audit cannot always uncover an informal phone call asking for special treatment. And no regulation can monitor every personal relationship.
That is why this is not merely an institutional challenge. It is a moral one.
Too often, we place the entire burden on the public official. We say they should refuse. They should be strong enough. They should follow the rules.
They absolutely should. But the responsibility does not end there. The person making the request is equally responsible.
Every time we ask someone to bend the rules because we know them, we are asking them to compromise their integrity. Similarly, every time we seek preferential treatment for school admissions, transfers, contracts or recruitment, we become participants in the very system we later criticise.
We cannot denounce corruption in public while seeking favours in private. Corruption is sustained not only by those who grant favours but also by those who ask for them.
This is perhaps Bhutan’s greatest governance challenge today. Our institutions can continue strengthening internal controls, digital systems, audits and transparency measures, and they should. These reforms are essential. But no system, however sophisticated, can replace individual conscience.
The strongest anti-corruption mechanism is not a law, an audit or a digital platform. It is a citizen who decides not to ask for special treatment.
Integrity begins long before an official signs a document. It begins when a friend chooses not to make the phone call, when a relative accepts the queue instead of seeking to bypass it, and when a citizen believes that fairness matters more than familiarity.
If Bhutan is to preserve its reputation as one of the world’s cleanest countries, the fight against corruption cannot remain the sole responsibility of the ACC or public institutions. It must become a shared national ethic.
After all, corruption is rarely a one-person act. One person offers the favour; another seeks it.
It takes two hands to clap.
