By Tony Samson
IN Ken Auletta’s new book (June 2018) Frenemies, covering the disruption of the media and advertising world, the author touches on succession plans for the entrenched and aging icons of the ad industry. Martin Sorrel, then the still active head of WPP, talked of succession planning at age 72, “I will stay here until they shoot me.” After that statement, the undisclosed details of an investigation on Sorrel resulted in his “resignation.” There were no shots heard.
While monarchies have defined succession protocols for deaths and abdications, reaching down to toddlers that have an assigned number in the succession chain, conglomerates, also ruled by wannabe monarchs, seldom pay attention to who will replace them. Succession is a topic at the bottom of the CEO’s to-do list.
Designating a specific individual or even a set of candidates erodes the myth that senior executives are uniquely irreplaceable or that any of the possible replacements are worthy. (He is beyond genius.) The myth of a vacuum after an exit dismisses De Gaulle’s reminder that “the graveyards are full of irreplaceable men.” Before that, he also said, “After me, the deluge.”
Grooming the hair may be more urgent in the incumbent CEO’s mindset than grooming an heir. An identified CEO-in-waiting tends to be lionized too soon by those investing in the future. He attracts those who want to be part of the new ruling class. Isn’t it then a short step for the successor-in-waiting to push for a timetable for the handover? Even a distant-sounding time horizon like 3 years eventually comes around — is it 3 years already? Oh, my. Tempus fugit!
The delaying tactic of the reluctant evacuee involves an unfinished project — let me just complete this 7-year plan and then we can talk about your new role. The successor is then portrayed as over-eager and still a work in progress. Doesn’t he need to acquire new skills, like the ability to leap over tall buildings and stop a speeding train?
Succession planning seems critical only for the successors. If no heir is apparent, everybody is considered in the running — what’s the rush? In each planning session, the consultant (coached by the second in line) has a last slide on the challenges of the future like disruptive technology, declining demand, eroding market share, and “depth of the management bench.” The last bullet point occupies one whole slide and introduced after a pregnant pause — will somebody give birth to a thought?
Even when a successor is announced, he is not given the top job right away. He will need to hover over the runway, before being asked to land. Maybe he will run out of gas and get tired flying in circles, deciding in frustration to land in another location where he is immediately needed.
Succession plans often disappoint. Two things need to happen for the longed-for event to take place. The incumbent needs to leave or be forced out and the other wannabes need to step aside to give the identified successor a clear path as all the rest cheer him on and pledge undying allegiance. (Wake me when it’s over.)
Perhaps, the search committee should also define a role for a dethroned king. Many use the position of chair for this, or if this is already sat on too firmly, there is the “emeritus” title which in Latin means “having earned” (a position). It should be made clear that he won’t get any reports, only an office with a secretary, plus free coffee. He is provided wi-fi to check the news on his phone.
Succession thoughts are hardest for the non-owner perceived as a hired hand, even if he is getting the highest paycheck on the planet, and kowtowed to wherever he goes.
There’s no succession problem for owners.
In family corporations, the patriarch exits and designates an heir to succeed him, or breaks up the empire, with each fiefdom headed by an equal number of descendants.
Anyway, the old man doesn’t really retire. He just stops going to office, and worries about his blood pressure, and maybe the market cap of the company as of the previous day’s closing price. He earnestly resists the temptation to meddle, patiently waiting to be consulted. Is that a knock on the door?
Tony Samson is chairman and CEO, TOUCH xda
ar.samson@yahoo.com
