Many companies are finding it increasingly difficult to create value. What’s your take on that?

Yes, I do believe it’s genuinely hard to create value today. But it depends on the lens through which we look. The word “accounting” comes from the Latin com-putare. Putare refers to thinking or estimating — it’s about “putative” value, the value we assign through thought. Com means “with” or “together.” So accounting, at its root, is the act of “thinking with” what surrounds us.

Creating value, then, is a question of with whom and for whom we are creating it. We’re moving away from a purely shareholder-centric conception of value towards a more balanced one — one that considers all stakeholders, from the environment to society.

Someone who remains locked in a logic of ownership, asking “how do I maximize shareholder value?” will find it extremely difficult to create value. Without engaging in cooperation with their stakeholders, they can only rely on their own strength — and in a world that’s increasingly complex and adversarial, that’s a losing bet.

So how would you define value?

In a strictly shareholder logic, value arises from a successful cooperation: I offer a solution to my client, and value is created through the effective collaboration between the provider and the recipient. Even from a narrow financial standpoint, I would define value as the fruit of cooperation. And “cooperation” always implies a with — a relationship that yields something.

But behind the question of value lies a deeper one: the question of capital. I believe capital needs to be redefined — or, more precisely, broadened. Today, the capital we measure through accounting is financial capital. Each year, accounting tells us whether the company has increased or degraded this form of capital.

But there’s another way to think about capital: as what is “capital” — what matters — to someone. In this sense, capital isn’t just something we have; it’s made up of relationships — it’s a form of with. I can say: “It is capital to me to do my job while minimizing environmental damage.” We can choose what we consider capital. And once we do, accounting can help us measure whether we are building or destroying that capital year over year — say, natural capital.

So, capital is what I assign value to. For any economic actor, it’s a plural and subjective notion. We move away from shareholder capitalism to a stakeholder mindset — to collectively create what we might call capital value.

In today’s world, is economic value in tension with social and environmental values? Do trade-offs have to be made?

Yes — trade-offs are often necessary. That’s the role of leadership. A company is not just mechanical; it is political.

Take this example: I own a coal mine in Poland. I want to shut it down because I know it emits CO₂ and coal is being phased out in Europe. But the mine is profitable. So, do I give up that profit?

The conflict here is not just profit vs. environment. If I shut down the mine, 3,000 people lose their jobs. In European societies, we’ve made progress on many aspects of the social foundation (see Kate Raworth’s donut model), but employment remains a critical gap — especially in France.

So, this trade-off has to be made as well. Sometimes, it’s not just economic value that conflicts with environmental or social priorities — sometimes environmental action comes at a social cost, or vice versa.

But this is part of corporate life. And it brings us back to the idea of “thinking with.” If I adopt a cooperative mindset, these trade-offs can be addressed through dialogue and collaboration with stakeholders. It takes time, yes — you have to sit down and talk. But if we define value as we just did, then decision-making becomes more straightforward. I can weigh my financial, ecological, and social results and make choices based on a concerted set of priorities.

If accounting is a representation of the world and what is valuable, what worldview does traditional accounting reflect?

I think we’ve tried to overly simplify what a company is. Think of Jean-Baptiste Say’s position: that natural resources fall outside economics because they are infinite and free. That idea led to a kind of reductionism. In this utilitarian view, the company is not seen as accountable to society or nature, nor is it expected to measure its broader impact.

We tried to imagine an economy emancipated from both society and the environment.

But even back in the 18th century, this idea was contested — notably by the Physiocrats, who considered only natural resources to be genuinely productive. Rousseau, and later Pierre Leroux, also followed that line of thought. The “pure” vision of economics — one that seeks only to maximize shareholder returns — took root in the 20th century, particularly with the Chicago School and Milton Friedman.

Today, we know that many value-generating activities don’t show up in traditional metrics — like volunteering, for instance. There’s a clear push to broaden how we measure value beyond pure profit accumulation. That’s the purpose of corporate responsibility frameworks and non-financial reporting — like the European Union’s CSRD.

What can non-financial accounting bring to a company?

Accounting is a representation of what matters. Non-financial accounting represents what we do ecologically and socially. There’s both positive and negative — but we need to show it, to be transparent. It allows us to weigh ecological and social gains or losses against financial performance.

It enables a better understanding of a company’s activities — of its contribution to its ecosystem (financial, social, environmental), and of the quality of its relationships within that ecosystem.

Non-financial accounting also creates a common grammar — a shared scale of magnitude — that makes these issues intelligible. The CSRD’s concept of “double materiality,” for example, gives us a structured language, a shared framework to understand what matters for all stakeholders. Civil society can appropriate this language and use it to question companies, just as investors do now that these issues are central to decision-making.

It also supports decision-making — whether for investments, communication, or long-term strategy. All major corporate decisions — launching a new product, acquiring a business, entering a new market — can be viewed through the lens of different forms of capital (financial, social, environmental). This does complicate things — but it also enriches decision-making, giving leaders a more complete view and helping them protect the company’s long-term viability by not jeopardizing the environment on which it depends.

It’s a constraint, yes — but one that reconnects the company to the broader world in which it lives. It expands the space of judgment when priorities come into conflict — like in the coal mine example.

What advice would you give to a company starting out in non-financial accounting?

Start by getting educated. Then choose a method — there are many: LIFTS, based on Raworth’s donut model; CARE, which measures the cost of restoring ecosystems; Universal Accounting; or the Goodwill method.

Each has different levels of ambition and accessibility. Some highly ambitious methods may pose problems. I’ve seen companies pilot very ambitious models at one site only to struggle with scaling. These methods can be rigorous but hard to implement in real life. Conversely, more accessible methods may raise concerns about whether they’re ambitious enough in the context of strong sustainability.

You don’t want to sacrifice your ambitions.

Each company can — based on where it is on its sustainability journey — choose a method that balances ambition and feasibility and enables long-term commitment.

Train your teams and think carefully about method selection. Don’t aim too high or too low. Keep in mind your goal: to be ecologically and socially sustainable — truly, not superficially.

What are the long-term risks for companies that don’t adapt to these changes?

There are many.

First, regulation — especially in Europe, where the legal landscape around non-financial matters is already quite mature. Companies that wait until the last moment may find themselves unprepared (supply chains, organization, data systems). The CSRD is a game-changer. It makes sustainability disclosures legally binding.

Second, reputation — whether for hiring, partnerships, or investment. Increasingly, businesses and investors walk away from relationships that don’t align with their values — even when the financial numbers look good on paper. These broken ties will cost companies that stick to business as usual.

Third, organizational readiness — especially the coordination between CSR and finance. Today, many societal initiatives don’t show up in financial statements, making them hard to prioritize. Finance teams need to upskill in sustainability, and CSR teams need frameworks to report and steer. Non-financial accounting bridges that gap, thanks to its continuity with reporting. CSR must be integrated into the full set of company KPIs — otherwise, the business risks poor visibility and unbalanced decisions. It doesn’t replace strategy or governance — but it supports both.

Can cooperation open up new opportunities for companies?

I’m convinced it can.

In Japan, large corporations support their suppliers during downturns. They place large orders to help them recover. From a strictly financial standpoint, this doesn’t make sense — but it creates real resilience.

Similarly, in the Chongqing region of China, car engine manufacturers drastically cut costs thanks to their open collaboration with suppliers. Instead of rigid specifications, they give broad guidelines and allow flexibility — which fosters creativity.

Trust lies at the heart of this successful cooperation. For social and sustainability challenges, we need to adopt the same posture. Socio-environmental accounting helps us measure the value that such cooperation produces.

Any final thoughts?

To speak the language of sustainability and better measure what truly matters, we must learn to think with our stakeholders. That’s both the origin of accounting — and its future.