What is it about wealthy families that span dynasties and empires?
Whether it’s the slow-motion drama of the Murdoch succession or the echoes of similar tensions closer to home, one thing becomes clear – truth is often stranger than fiction.
Succession is never simple. Whether it was Logan Roy refusing to name a successor or Malaysian tycoons navigating children with varying levels of business acumen, the question is always the same: How do you ensure power is transferred meaningfully, not just by default?
Shows like Succession and The Righteous Gemstones cleverly mirror life, albeit through different lenses of dark humour
They reveal a sobering truth that no matter how ambitious the heirs – they are often products of the patriarch’s power, not producers of it.
Despite their proximity to influence, the children often prove too broken, insecure, or self-serving to truly step into their father’s shoes.
They may see themselves as their father’s successor, but they often lack the emotional control, discipline, and killer instinct required to lead.
Some quietly wrestle with personal challenges – inner doubts, insecurity, and a deep need for validation.
This reflection was prompted by a recent conversation with a group of parents about our hopes for our children. We often speak about wanting them to be the best version of themselves. But one friend made a piercing observation. The real safety net, for many of them, is us – the parents.
We cushion their falls, shield them from consequences, and in doing so, may inadvertently hold them back from developing the resilience, resourcefulness, and grit that real leadership demands.
This is where the rubber meets the road for young leaders today.
We often admire those who are successful – the CEOs, the founders, the empire builders and even the influencers.
We imagine we can emulate their results by copying their moves. But we rarely pause to examine what truly made them successful.
The failures they learned from, the judgment they developed through hard-won experience, and the discipline they mastered long before anyone was watching.
Being in the room where decisions are made does not make you a decision-maker. Sitting in boardrooms or family strategy meetings doesn’t teach you how to lead – unless you have had to build something of your own, make hard calls, or carry the weight of responsibility on your shoulders.
The tragedy of dynastic succession is that it often skips the one thing that builds true leadership: struggle. As Logan Roy famously put it: “I love you, but you are not serious people.”
The Roy children inherited the empire, but not the empire–building instinct. They grew up in power, around power but not through power. And so, they remain children of the patriarch, not leaders in their own right.
If you are a young leader or aspiring one, take note. You can learn from the best, but you must also ask harder questions about what shaped them, what they had to overcome, and what price they paid for their success.
There’s a difference between being smart and being wise – between sounding like a leader, and being one.
True leadership calls for emotional honesty, steady resilience, the courage to step outside one’s comfort zone, and the humility to keep learning, even at the top.
And perhaps the most important lesson – if you have never had to earn something, you may never fully appreciate it or know what to do when it’s yours.
Succession isn’t just about inheritance. It’s about identity. It’s about what happens when people inherit titles, but never grow into the responsibility.
Where Succession leaves you with a pit in your stomach, Gemstones lets you laugh and then wince. Yet both expose the same truth. That unearned power can be just as damaging as no power at all.
So don’t just admire success. Study it. And more importantly, build your version of it. These personal reflections have wider implications not just for parents, but for any leader responsible for nurturing future leadership.
And for those already in power, a cautionary tale. If you are in a leadership role – whether in a corporation, a government-linked entity, or a family-founded business – succession isn’t just entertainment.
Just look at the recent reshuffling of the Murdoch family trust. Even the world’s most influential empires wrestle with how to pass the torch. It is a reminder that without clarity, timing, and emotional readiness, succession planning can become less about continuity – and more about control.
Naming successors isn’t enough. Without preparation, clarity, and shared purpose, even the best structures will falter. True legacy is measured not by inheritance, but by the long-term impact of today’s decisions.
And while governance frameworks are essential, emotional maturity in both leaders and their successors remains equally critical.
In Malaysia, we may not televise our boardroom tensions. But behind closed doors, succession battles or the absence of succession planning, can derail even the most successful institutions.
Whether you are building an organisation or preparing to pass the torch, one truth remains. Leadership must be earned, not assumed.
The views expressed here are the personal opinion of the writer and do not necessarily represent that of Twentytwo13.
