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Written by Nicole Renggli, Owner of younique hr consulting | Nicole Renggli | LinkedIn
He sits at his desk. The same desk where it all began.The coffee cup stands on the left, as always. On the windowsill: memories. Old photos. Small gifts. A watch with an engraving: “25 years of success.”Everything as usual.
On paper, the succession plan is in progress. In practice, it isn’t.
The successor is here. Competent, committed, motivated. But something is holding things back. Decisions drag on. Responsibility gets stuck.
Old habits mix with new ideas. And again and again, those familiar phrases: “We used to do it differently.” Or: “I do want to let go, but …”
Succession is not an administrative act. It is an emotional process. And one of the hardest there is. Because what looks like strategy, contracts, and planning is in truth a deeply personal matter. When a company has become a life’s work over decades, letting go means more than giving up power, it means giving up a part of one’s identity, a part of oneself. “Who am I when I’m no longer needed?” That question hangs unspoken in the air. And it paralyzes. Many owners want the best for their company.They wish for continuity, stability, security. But that very wish sometimes leads them to hold on unconsciously, afraid that something will be lost otherwise.
For the successor, this becomes a balancing act: to lead without overruling. To show respect without diminishing oneself. To shape things but only up to an invisible boundary. A silent conflict arises: One wants to let go but cannot. The other wants to lead but is not allowed. And in between stands a company, stuck in place.
Succession is more than a generational change. It is a process of relationship between past and future, between control and trust, between preservation and renewal.
It’s about responsibility, and about enduring uncertainty. About admitting that you’re handing over something you can no longer fully control. Many believe letting go means losing. In truth, it means enabling. Creating space for something new to grow.
But that takes courage; the courage to see one’s life’s work not as a possession, but as a contribution. The courage to accept that others will lead differently and that this is okay. Succession doesn’t succeed when it exists only on paper.It succeeds when there is room to talk about feelings, about pride, fear, doubt, and vulnerability.
When the focus isn’t only on handover plans, but on transition conversations.
Because in family businesses,business and relationships meet directly. Leadership and ownership are often held by the same person and succession shifts that balance.Practical questions and emotional issues are tightly intertwined: Who will lead in the future? Who will decide? Who will stay involved, and in what role? These are not just organizational questions. They touch identity, trust, and appreciation. This is where mediation has its potential. It creates space to address both the professional and the personal. A space where what usually remains unspoken
can finally be said. Mediators accompany this process. They help clarify roles, untangle expectations, and make emotions visible without judgment. They help conversations succeed again, not to decide who is right, but to discover what matters.
Because succession is also mediation between old and new, between experience and change, between letting go and trusting. Letting go is not an act of weakness. It is a sign of maturity. It means placing trust in people, in structures, in what you have built. In the end, it’s not about who wins or who is right. It’s about ensuring that the work lives on and that what was once begun has a future, perhaps different, but no less valuable.
Succession is not an end. It is the beginning of a new responsibility for both sides.