I HAD high hopes for this particular family business. James (not his real name), the eldest of the second generation, in his 50s, had asked me to help the family manage professionalization and succession. Matters were getting unwieldy, and relationships were strained. I had spoken at length with the patriarch, James’ father, who stated that he recognized the importance of dealing with issues now before they worsen.
After a month of discussions with half a dozen key family members, things were looking up. A viable successor (who turned out to be James) was finally chosen, with a succession program outlined and about to be put into place. Though a few family members (James’ sibling and a cousin) were visibly disappointed that they were not the chosen one, they agreed to give their best effort in other key roles.
Rivalries still existed, but when I mediated the airing out of long-held resentments, things seemed to be falling into place. Of course, during these sessions, some angry words were said, some tears shed, but at the end, hand shakes and even hugs, however awkward, were given all around.
Denial and pride
But suddenly, the patriarch demanded a halt to the proceedings. For the longest time, he had not been aware of the tensions among his children and his nephews and nieces. Because of his temper and his iron will, everyone had decided to keep matters secret from him, not just their personal troubles, but also even acts of gross negligence and incompetence, which had already sorely impacted the company.
When James and his sister told him that they had finally patched things up, his reply was: “You should never let your personal feelings interfere with your job. Your quarrels should never have been happening in the first place.”
When I reported to him that against all odds, everyone in the second generation had finally agreed to support the chosen successor, the patriarch apologized, saying, “I am sorry that you had to know all the dirty laundry of the young ones. Actually, I am not happy that they told you about things that are not part of the business, anyway. Who cares if this cousin had a conflict with another cousin over sales and marketing? The young ones should be more professional, and then they would be less distracted in the business because of personal reasons.”
I reminded him that “the young ones” were all in their 50s and late 40s, most of them older than I. The major reason why I was hired in the first place, I reminded him, was because the second generation felt they could not go on working effectively with each other unless concerns were threshed out.
There was nothing to apologize for, I reassured him, because part of my role was to mediate conflict. As for airing dirty laundry, it was high time that the pent-up anger and resentments came out, and in fact, everyone in the second generation confided all their rage and disappointment in their initial meetings with me, which was a clear sign that they were only all too ready—in fact, they were bursting—to share their deepest thoughts.
The patriarch would not listen to any of these. Things were moving too fast for him, and change, even positive change, was daunting. His pride and his denial overruled his reason, which was a shame, since he had always prided himself on his business acumen.
Unfinished business
Without the patriarch’s support, I could not go on. I had one last meeting with the second generation, and reminded them of what they had all agreed on so far. I reminded them to practice strategies for effective communication, and encouraged them to brainstorm some more on alternative solutions to specific problems. I ended by saying that I had faith in them, and that our sessions, though cut short, should give them the hope that things could get better, but only if they keep the good of the family business in mind and heart.
James asked if I were willing to meet with the family members again if troubles cropped up. Though my policy is always to remain on call with clients, in this case, I had to politely decline. Without the patriarch’s support, I did not feel comfortable enough—and it did not feel right—to continue working with the family members, however much they wanted it.
A week after, I got a call from James. Two cousins (who were siblings) were squabbling over a certain position, and each was accusing the other of laziness and carelessness. I gave the best advice I could (over the phone), but I refused to mediate.
Worse of all, two months after, James called with a worse bit of news. His sister and his father had a huge quarrel, and hurtful things were said. His sister was threatening to resign from the business, and his father was threatening to disinherit her. What advice could I give?
At this point, I had enough. I referred the family to another therapist, and told James firmly to tell his father that if he continued sticking his head in the sand, he would lose not just his business but also his family.
“Change is inevitable if a family business wants to move forward,” say A. B. Susanto and Patricia Susanto of the Jakart Consulting Group. “Families that do not always protect themselves from criticism, exposure to shortcomings, or a perceived threat to the ego—as well as have strong motivation to solve any problem—will have a bigger chance to succeed compared with those that have problems with denial, defensiveness and disagreement. Some do not have the resources, patience, and courage to make a change.”
Next week: Embrace change.
Queena N. Lee-Chua is on the board of directors of Ateneo de Manila University’s Family Business Development Center. Get her book “Successful Family Businesses” at the University Press (e-mail msanagustin@ateneo.edu.) E-mail the author at blessbook.chua@gmail.com.