Every succession conversation starts the same way.
“What if someone gets hit by a bus?”
Then the bus is real.
Three years ago, the VP of Sales at a client called the night before our quarterly session.
I have a rule. Between sessions, I only talk to the Integrator, who runs the day to day. That way, when I’m in session with the team, I never hold one person’s secret. Something told me to answer.
He’d just gotten the news no one wants from a doctor.
Only the Integrator knew.
A lump rose in my throat. I had no words.
Everyone has an expiration date. His was no longer fuzzy.
I wanted to say: Stop working. Go live. We’ll figure it out. It’s just business.
I didn’t. Who was I loyal to? The client who needed him? Or the man with a handful of sunsets left?
The next day, he sat across the table while the team set its Rocks, the handful of 90-day priorities. He might not be there next quarter. Maybe not next week. You can’t prioritize an issue no one can name. I’d given my word. I said nothing.
At 6:30 AM the next day, I called the Integrator.
“I know,” I said. “We have to triage this.”
Like first responders, we built a transition plan.
I kept my word and did right by the client. Do the Right Thing is a Core Value for me and for EOS.
EOS made the business call simple. It can’t tell you what to say to someone with months to live.
I wanted to send him Chasing Daylight, a book on living your last months on purpose. I never knew if it was my place. Three years later, I still don’t.
Rocks done or not done pale next to a bad scan.
Where do you draw the line between advisor and human?
Stay Curious,
JBS