What I Learned Working with Three World-Class Quitters

Greetings friends!
When I was General Counsel of a big public company, I reported to three people over the years: first, the Chief Financial Officer (CFO) and then the CEO and their eventual successor. I learned many valuable lessons from each but none has stuck with me more than how they quit.
You’d think a person’s departure is the least important thing about their contributions to an organization. I used to think so too, but my experiences watching the impact of people’s departure decisions proved me wrong. This led to my own strategic decisions about leaving my role.
I’ll start with an example of what not to do and why, before turning to the wonderful role models I had in my bosses. The lessons are worth pondering more broadly in society today with many of our leaders being of such advanced ages.
A cautionary tale; why term limits exist
I was attracted to my company in part because of its amazing Board of Directors. For a mere billion-dollar company (at the time I joined, we’re much bigger now), we had a Board comprised of proper business titans, including former CEOs and Chairmen of companies like GE, IBM, and Ford, among others.
You will often see me pushing back on writers who reflexively criticize capitalism and cast all executives as greedy, immoral thugs. That’s because my experience was very different. I saw firsthand how a great Board and selfless management team can drive outstanding value for stakeholders.
But, and this will surprise no one, even among a great team, not everyone performs at the same level. And not everyone can (or wants to) sustain the same pace.
In our case, we had a rivalry between two directors, both of whom could lay claim to business history — one overseeing the growth of his company into the largest in the world (by market cap) and the other having led his company through one of the largest successful turnarounds yet accomplished.
Both were in their 70s when I met them and served on our Board for years. One stayed astoundingly sharp into his 80s until his death, while the other started to show accelerating signs of cognitive decay. The latter refused to resign from the Board while the former still served, despite the widening gulf in their abilities.

For a certain person, nothing is more towering than their ego. It took our diplomatic Chairman several years of statesmanship to ease out the one director. Far longer, in hindsight, than it should have. To help reduce the risk of another such tragedy, the Board then adopted age limits mandating directors’ retirement after they turned 72 years of age.
This age limit represented a clear compromise. Age is no guarantee of competence, nor a marker of its absence. And many, many executives are capable of solid contributions beyond the age of 72. But a clean break in a clear policy also avoids awkward discussions of inevitable decline that everyone can see but the person affected.
Just as with conflicts of interest (where the conflicted person is in no position to resolve the conflict), an ailing executive who stays too long becomes unable to objectively assess their performance. A lifetime of superb achievements risks being overshadowed by painful blunders that taint our memories.
What my bosses did differently than our aging Director
My three bosses each chose the timing of their departures, seemingly at the very peak of their powers. They carefully managed their exits from positions of strength, ensuring that they had outstanding successors in place.
Moreover, by their actions, they demonstrated the trait I came to appreciate most in executives: putting their egos in the backseat and focusing on the needs of the organization. Not what was best for them as individuals, but what was best for the company.
Our first CEO stepped down from the role to make way for an outstanding rising star whose talents better suited what the company needed at that time. Our second CEO and the CFO each did the same more than a decade later. All were in their 50s and high-performing when they gave up the reins of power.
In case you’re wondering, they each left behind great sums of money in giving up their posts. Yes, they had already earned a lot. But as I learned from observing other rich people, having a lot does not sate one’s appetite for more. Thus, show me a person who voluntarily walks away from millions of dollars and I will show you someone who has thought carefully about their values.

These examples (good and bad) helped me plan my own exit
As I approached the age of 50, I was experienced, competent, and confident in my role. I realized I had already worked more than the equivalent of a lifetime of hours people normally work. And I thought about how much longer I wanted to work such an intense and demanding job.
With the examples I had before me, both good and bad, my decision wasn’t as hard as I might have once supposed. That is, I wanted to exit when no one was thinking I should. I wanted what was best for my company, which included finding a great successor and then devoting ample time to training them.
So that is what I did.
It took fully four years from thought to completion. I trusted my boss by telling him well in advance so we could plan together. In turn, he trusted me by encouraging me to take an intermediate role allowing me to reduce my workload in stages while still adding value. (That’s what led to my running our global sustainability program for several years.)
I am so grateful I worked for selfless bosses who showed me one of the best management lessons of all — how to quit when you’re winning.
Be well.
I may have quit my paying job, but I will never quit trying to do my best to share practical lessons with you, dear readers. Subscribe to get your weekly dose of wisdom.
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