Why silence speaks louder than any family protocol
When it comes to succession, we talk a lot about wills, tax brackets and company shares. We negotiate inheritance structures, pension commitments and severance payments. And at the same time, we remain silent. About what really matters. About expectations. Disappointments. Guilt. Pride. And about the quiet desire for everything to somehow remain the same and yet be completely different.
This silence has a system. It protects. It paralyses. And it works. In no other transformation process in companies is symbolic, implicit and emotional communication so central – and at the same time so rarely discussed – as in succession. It is not only what is said that matters. But also how, when, by whom and with what subtext.
Succession is a communicative state of emergency. Those who fail to recognise this miss the most important lever for a successful handover: language.
Communication as a means of power: whoever speaks sets the interpretation
In family businesses, language is not a neutral means of transport. It is a tool of power, an expression of identity and often also a stage for unresolved loyalties. Those who talk about the future claim creative sovereignty. Those who say what should be first create reality.
Many successors experience this painfully when they articulate their own ideas and encounter an informal ‘We’ve always done it this way.’ Behind this formula lies not an argument, but a claim to interpretation: the present should not be discussed, but handed down.
In succession, therefore, it is not only what is said that is decisive, but also who is allowed to say it. Is the younger generation even being heard? Are employees allowed to ask questions? Does an external advisory board have the right to address cultural issues?
In many cases, language is organised hierarchically. Power lies with those who have been there for a long time. Or with those who remain silent but know everything. Communication becomes a resource. Whoever controls it controls succession.
Narratives: Family history as an invisible third party
Hardly any other element shapes succession processes as strongly as the family narrative. It is rarely written down. And yet it is omnipresent.
‘We have been independent for five generations.’
‘Our father built everything up on his own.’
‘We survived 2008 – we can do this too.’
Such sentences act as scaffolding that provides security. In reality, they are semantic corsets. They presuppose what should actually be available. Anyone who questions them jeopardises the identity of the system or at least the feeling of continuity.
Yet narratives are never just stories. They are also omissions. What is not told is often even more powerful than what is in the family album. The quarrelling brothers who were quietly pushed out of the company. The failed IPO. The almost insolvent holding company. All of this remains unspoken, but palpable.
In research, this is called ‘narrative silos’. They arise when individual family members or parts of an organisation tell their own story and systematically ignore other perspectives. The effect: fragmentation. Mistrust. Avoidance of communication.
Speechless spaces: when the essentials are not discussed
In many family businesses, there are topics that are not discussed – at least not officially. These include:
- the valuation of the company (‘Who really owns what?’)
- the emotional relationship to the company (‘Do I even want to take this on?’)
- the role of partners (‘Why wasn’t my husband invited to the meeting?’)
- the performance of the predecessor (‘What actually went wrong in recent years?’)
These silent spaces are dangerous. They create uncertainty and quickly fill with speculation, rumours and attributions. In succession communication, what is left unsaid is often more powerful than any clearly formulated intention.
In addition, the emotional side of succession is often delegitimised. Those who talk about feelings are considered irrational. Those who show hurt are seen as weak. Those who call for open dialogue are considered intrusive.
As a result, successors are often under pressure not only professionally, but also communicatively. They must appear strong, loyal and solution-oriented. At the same time, they are expected to be sensitive, engaging and adaptable. An impossible role. And one that is rarely mentioned.
The role of symbolic communication
In addition to what is said explicitly, symbolism plays a central role in succession. Rituals, gestures and designs often have a stronger effect than words.
A few examples:
- The old desk remains in the office, even after the senior employee has moved out.
- The nameplate on the door is not replaced.
- The new managing director is introduced internally, but not by the owner.
- The family chronicle is on display, but the current strategic plan remains under lock and key.
Such details send messages. They say: ‘You can take over, but you can’t change anything.’ Or: ‘You belong, but not completely.’
Symbolism is particularly concentrated in family businesses. The company headquarters in the family home, the logo with the family crest, the summer party in the patriarch’s garden – all of these things speak volumes. And often louder than any declaration of intent.
Anyone who wants to shape the succession process communicatively must recognise these symbolic levels, interpret them and, if necessary, reframe them.
Communication conflicts as proxy wars
In many handover processes, conflicts erupt over seemingly trivial communication issues:
- Who moderates the family meeting?
- How do you talk to the staff about the succession?
- Why is the new managing director addressed informally, but the old one formally?
- Can the daughter-in-law sit on the advisory board?
At first glance, such questions seem trivial. In fact, they are projections of deeper tensions: about power, belonging, control and recognition.
Language conflicts often conceal unspoken questions of loyalty: Who is closer to whom? Who represents whose interests? Who is allowed to make decisions and who is overlooked?
This requires communicative clarification processes. And people who are willing to talk not only about content, but also about relationships.
Trust is not created through information – but through resonance
A common misconception in succession planning is that transparency is synonymous with trust. According to the motto: ‘If everyone knows what is planned, everything is fine.’
This is wrong.
Trust is not created through information, but through resonance. That means: through the feeling of being seen, heard and understood.
A successor who explains everything objectively but fails to connect emotionally creates distance. A senior who documents everything but explains nothing leaves uncertainty in their wake. And consultants who only show PowerPoint presentations but fail to convey verbal skills are part of the problem.
That’s why successful succession communication requires more than just good preparation. It requires spaces for dialogue, listening skills and interpretation. And the courage to name things that hurt.
Finding the right language: A plea for a new, communication-conscious succession
So what can be done?
First of all, communication in succession must not be a by-product. It is not optional – it is a prerequisite. Every succession should therefore be accompanied by a conscious communication architecture. This includes:
- Explicit communication agreements: Who talks to whom about what and when?
- Narrative reappraisal: Which stories shape us? Which ones do we want to retell?
- Moderated dialogue formats: spaces for listening, contradiction, understanding.
- Symbolic framing: rituals, handovers, designs that are consciously orchestrated.
- Promoting language skills: through coaching, sparring, role-playing – for seniors and juniors alike.
- Reflection on silence: where is there no communication – and why?
Conclusion: it’s time to break the silence
The language of succession is polyphonic, contradictory, emotionally charged – but malleable.
Those who ignore it risk misunderstandings, conflicts and breakdowns. Those who take it seriously can not only organise the transition, but also create a new, shared narrative. One that connects rather than divides. One that strengthens rather than paralyses.
Because in family businesses, it is never just about the change of generations. It is always also about the change of language. And about who will be heard and listened to in the future.
This article was written by Christian Neusser. The content and quotations were collected as part of his doctoral thesis and are part of his research on the topic of business succession in owner-managed companies to external management.