Movers and saying goodbye

We on the CFO team call it “Movers.

It is one of the most long-running, consistently highest-read weekly articles CFO has published. Curious as to why, I once asked a finance chief I encountered at a conference why he loved this weekly article, CFOs On the Move, so much.

He explained that CFOs are pretty good at keeping tabs on each other, and they want to know when openings are filled and when others become available. Given that recent research indicates that CFOs at large companies remain in the post for less than half a decade, it is understandable that CFOs would pay attention like they’re hunting for an empty spot on the city streetcar. After all, my friend said, once you get to a certain level of leadership, there are only so many ways to continue to evolve your finance career — grow the company, jump to a larger company, or do something else entirely.  

CFOs acknowledge and applaud each other for progressing in their careers, but what this time of year makes me reflect on is the hole that is left. Sometimes these moves are expected and result in succession plans and other times are not. And as we reported today, in the case of Daimler Truck CFO Jochen Goetz, it can be both unexpected and tragic. 

As I reflect on the streetcar analogy, it reminds me of my own world, where my firstborn child is preparing to begin her college career in short order — four days, to be exact. But unlike with CFOs, there is no succession. Only an empty chair.

A common hypothetical exchange we see pop up on social media from time to time goes like this: 

A CFO asks the CEO, “What happens if we invest in developing our people and then they leave us?” To which the CEO responds, “What happens if we don’t, and they stay?”

You can cue the jokes about kids who never want to leave the nest, but a different way to look at this is, the heart of the parent (and to a lesser degree an engaged leader) prepares their children to be successful in the world on their own merits. We raise them to exercise sound judgment, consistent morals, and gratifying productivity. 

But if we do our mission successfully, the hidden fear is that we will no longer be needed in their lives. You cannot force someone you’ve trained to be independent to need you again, and there’s no guarantee that after they learn to fly that they’ll want to return to the nest. 

I think the same can be true about the all-stars we raise in our companies as well, from the C-suite on down. We want those stars to be equipped to shine but know that when the world observes their sparkle, they might not return. Movement is growth, and that is why CFOs move. But what we’re not always ready for is the growth we have to accept for ourselves when the chair is empty. 

One day you are holding your little jewel in the palm of your hand. Eighteen seconds later, you wave goodbye.