Over the past two decades, I’ve had the privilege of mentoring next-generation successors—many from second- to fourth-generation heirs of Asia’s most prominent family businesses. These young scions, whose parents or grandparents are my clients, are often enrolled in Ivy League institutions or are preparing to step into senior roles within their enterprises.
What I share here is not drawn from theory or conjecture. These insights stem from direct mentoring engagements, long-term governance work, and decades of research focused on multigenerational Asian business families.
One uncomfortable truth keeps surfacing:
Roughly 80 percent of the next gens I coach exhibit signs of entitlement.
This is not a judgment of the children. It is a wake-up call for parents—a reminder that love, when misapplied, can quietly undermine the very future they hope to secure.
Overprotection: A trap disguised as love
Founders who built empires from scratch often carry invisible wounds—tales of betrayal, rejection, financial hardship, and being dismissed or overlooked. Their instinct, understandably, is to shield their children from similar pain.
But in trying to protect, many go too far.
One third-gen heir from Kuala Lumpur shared, “My father wouldn’t let me take public transport. He said they already suffered for me.” But in shielding them from discomfort, they often deprive them of the chance to build character, independence and resilience.
A mentee currently at Wharton put it bluntly:
“I’ve never worked outside our business. I’m not even sure I want to be in it.”
This is the outcome when life is over-curated: curiosity fades, confidence weakens and growth stalls.
Overprotection also stifles the natural process of trial and error that teaches valuable lessons about failure and perseverance. Without these experiences, heirs may lack the grit and adaptability needed to lead successfully in today’s fast-changing world.
Hiring by default, not by design
Another entitlement trigger is the automatic hiring of family members—regardless of aptitude, attitude, or passion. The rationale often comes from a place of trauma: “I was dismissed and humiliated in my early years. I won’t let my children go through that.”
But when hiring decisions are driven by guilt, not governance, the damage can be far-reaching.
A telling case involves a Thai-based conglomerate. A second-gen son, fresh out of business school, was named GM of a division. He had no experience, no support structure, and no leadership credibility. Within 18 months, the business unit’s performance plummeted, and key staff resigned.
The founder later admitted, “I should have followed your advice not to appoint him so soon. I thought he would grow into the role. But now I see—he needed a track record first.”
Nepotism of this kind often breeds resentment among non-family employees, damaging morale and undermining the company culture. It also prevents the next generation from earning their stripes and developing the skills that true leadership demands.
Parental guilt: The silent enabler
Perhaps the most insidious driver of entitlement is guilt. Many founders, having missed birthdays, graduations, and family moments in the name of business growth, try to compensate by giving their children everything—except their time.
One patriarch in Singapore once said, “I gave her everything—an Ivy League education, a condo, and a generous allowance. I thought that would be enough.” But the daughter showed little interest in the business and lacked direction.
When emotional presence is replaced by material offerings, children grow up equating love with luxury, not values. They miss out on the guidance and connection that foster responsibility, purpose and meaning.
In Part 2, we’ll explore the subtler enablers of entitlement—excessive praise, peer pressure from privileged circles, and the dangerous myth that inheritance guarantees leadership. I’ll also share real cases of families that broke the cycle and raised grounded, purpose-driven successors.