The Succession Lie: Why Most Leadership Pipelines Don’t Exist
John Elliott • May 19, 2025

Most companies I speak to say they’re planning for the future.

But it’s a lie. When the CEO resigns, the shortlist is blank.
The board scrambles. I get a call for help.

The talent that was supposed to be “next in line” either isn’t ready — or quietly left two years ago.

That’s not succession planning.
That’s performance.

And in Australia’s mid-market, it’s happening everywhere.


If You Have a Deck but No Decision, You Don’t Have a Pipeline

Look at your last board strategy pack.

There’s a succession slide — probably colour-coded.
Key roles mapped. Names in boxes. Risk flags on anyone nearing retirement.


But what happens when that person leaves tomorrow?

Does someone step up — with board confidence, cultural alignment, and commercial readiness?
Or does everything go into pause mode?


Most leadership pipelines aren’t pipelines at all.
They’re documentation exercises.
Names written down so the company appears prepared — not because anyone’s seriously investing in readiness.

And the data backs it up.

In the 2024 CEW Senior Executive Census, just 27% of ASX300 companies had gender-balanced executive leadership teams.
Only 1 in 8 CEO appointments in 2024 were women — a sharp drop from 1 in 4 the year before.


Worse still, 20 ASX300 companies had no women at all in their executive teams.
And 82% of pipeline roles like COO, CFO and Group Exec are still held by men.



Why Is This Happening?

Because it’s easier to pretend you’re planning than to actually commit to it.

Real succession means risk.


It means stretching people before they’re “ready.”
It means visibility. Investment. Accountability.
It means putting someone in the room who might one day replace you.

That’s uncomfortable.


So companies hedge.
They focus on process instead of outcome.
They delegate it to HR.
They call it “talent mapping” or “development planning” — and convince themselves that’s enough.

But when succession is treated as a compliance task, you get structure without substance.


Most Pipelines Are Demographically Narrow — and Strategically Passive

The succession conversation is often framed as a future-looking exercise. But the truth is, it reveals everything about a business now.

Who’s trusted.
Who’s stretched.
Who’s seen.

And if the answer is: people who already look and think like the current executive team — the pipeline is a mirror, not a mechanism.


According to CEW, it could take another 54 years to reach gender parity in CEO roles at the current rate.

Not because women aren’t ready — but because succession is still being run by legacy instincts, not performance or potential.

This isn’t a gender issue. It’s a visibility issue.


It shows just how narrow — and self-reinforcing — most internal pipelines are.


Boards Are Talking Succession — But Avoiding Succession Events

In public statements, succession is always described as a “priority.”
But when a CEO departs, the replacement is usually external.

Why?

Because the plan wasn’t real.

It wasn’t built into performance cycles, role design, or investment decisions.
It wasn’t modelled for readiness.
It wasn’t supported by real-world testing.


So when the vacancy comes, the board looks around and realises:
no one’s actually ready.


And that’s when they default to external search — time pressured, high-stakes, and often misaligned.

Even companies with formal succession frameworks fail to develop internal successors who can genuinely step up. According to McKinsey, only 29% of high-potential employees globally say they are being actively developed for future leadership roles.


Real Pipelines Aren’t Built on Potential — They’re Built on Pressure

Most “high-potential” employees never get tested.

They’re praised for being strategic, collaborative, well-liked.


But they haven’t led transformation.
They haven’t navigated crisis.

They haven’t made the call when it really counted.

That’s not their fault — it’s the system’s.


If your future leaders aren’t being put in rooms where the stakes are high, the talent is being wasted. Because without context, potential is just a guess.


Real succession means stress-testing people before the vacancy. Not waiting for a resignation to find out if they’re ready.


Why Leaders Say Succession Is a Priority — Then Undermine It

Because it forces difficult conversations.

  • What happens if the COO is better suited to the CEO role than the founder’s chosen successor?

  • What if your most capable future CFO is currently in HR?

  • What if your only succession-ready leader doesn’t want the job?

Succession exposes reality.
It tests assumptions about who’s loyal, who’s capable, and who’s trusted.
And many leadership teams would rather protect the illusion of unity than confront the truth of readiness.


So they hold back.
They over-prepare weak candidates and underinvest in strong ones.
They promote for loyalty, not capability.
And they hope tenure will somehow turn into executive presence.


HR Isn’t the Problem — But It’s Often Trapped

HR leaders are often tasked with “running succession.”
But they rarely hold the real power to make it happen.

They can facilitate calibration, run talent reviews, maintain the spreadsheet.
But they can’t override political appointments.
They can’t force development budgets.
And they can’t get future leaders into strategy sessions unless the CEO signs off.


So they manage the optics.

They keep the plan updated.
They run performance frameworks.
But they don’t challenge the organisation’s tolerance for risk or its lack of bold placements.

And succession — like so many other critical issues — becomes theatre.


What a Real Pipeline Looks Like

It’s small. It’s specific. And it’s active.

  • The top 5 succession candidates have documented development goals.

  • They’re being exposed to investor conversations, board updates, or crisis moments.

  • They’re sitting in on decisions they don’t yet own.

  • And they’re receiving feedback not just on performance — but on readiness.

Real succession isn’t about names on a slide.
It’s about signal.


Are you giving your future leaders enough signal — authority, exposure, context — to actually grow?

Or are you keeping them in reserve, hoping they’ll stay warm until you need them?


Most Internal Candidates Are Lost Long Before the Vacancy Opens

Talent attrition isn’t just about pay.

It’s about perceived opportunity.


If your best internal leaders aren’t being stretched, seen, or spoken to, they’ll find someone who will.

That’s not speculation. It’s playing out across Australia right now.


The 2024 CEW Census shows that companies without clear succession action are more likely to lose top talent, especially women in pipeline roles.


And when those people leave, they take with them the last thread of credibility in your internal bench.


The Cost of Cosmetic Succession Planning

The price isn’t just reactive hiring.
It’s loss of culture. Institutional memory. Momentum.

When succession isn’t planned properly, the outgoing leader often overstays.
Or worse — leaves chaos behind.


And the people who could’ve brought continuity and fresh thinking are either too green… or already gone.

You don’t just lose a leader.
You lose your rhythm.

And in the world of FMCG — where category cycles are brutal and competitor innovation is relentless — rhythm matters.


So What Now?

Ask these questions:

  • Who are our five most critical leadership roles?

  • If any one of them left tomorrow, who steps in?

  • Would that person command confidence from the board, the team, and the market?

  • And if not — why haven’t we done something about it?

Succession isn’t about the future.
It’s about the decisions you make now — when you still have time to act.

Because when the vacancy hits, theatre ends.
And only the real work will matter.

The Energy’s Gone, But Everything Still Looks Fine

By John Elliott • May 27, 2025
Why Culture Decay in FMCG Is a Silent Threat to Performance It doesn’t start with resignations. It starts with something much quieter. A head of operations stops raising small problems in weekly meetings. A sales lead no longer defends a risky new SKU. A team member who used to push ideas now just delivers what they’re asked. Nothing breaks. Nothing explodes. It just... slows. And from the outside, everything still looks fine. The illusion of stability In food and beverage manufacturing, where teams run lean and pressure is constant, performance often becomes the proxy for culture. If products are shipping, if margins are intact, if reviews are clean, the assumption is: we're good. But that assumption is dangerous. According to Gallup's 2023 global workplace report, only 23% of employees worldwide are actively engaged, while a staggering 59% are "quiet quitting ", doing just enough to get by, with no emotional investment. And in Australia? Engagement has declined three years in a row. In a mid-market FMCG business, those numbers rarely show up on dashboards. But they show up in other ways: New ideas stall at the concept phase Team members stop challenging assumptions Execution becomes rigid instead of agile Everyone is "aligned" but no one is energised And by the time the board sees a drop in revenue, the belief that once drove the business is already gone. The emotional cost of cultural silence One thing we don’t talk about enough is what this does to leadership. When energy drains, leaders often become isolated. Not because they want to be, but because the organisation has lost the instinct to challenge, question, or stretch. I’ve seen CEOs second-guessing themselves in rooms full of agreement. Seen GMs miss red flags because nobody wanted to be "the problem". Seen founders mistake quiet delivery for deep buy-in. The emotional toll of unspoken disengagement is real. You’re surrounded by people doing their jobs. But no one’s really in it with you. And eventually, leaders stop stretching too. We train people to disengage without realising it Here’s the contradiction that most organisations won’t admit: We say we want initiative, but we reward obedience. The safest people get promoted The optimists get extra work The truth-tellers get labelled difficult So people learn to conserve energy. They learn not to challenge ideas that won’t land. They learn not to flag risks that won’t be heard. And over time, they stop showing up with their full selves. This isn't resistance. It's protection. And it becomes the default when innovation is punished, risk isn't buffered, and "alignment" becomes code for silence. Boards rarely see it in time Boards don’t ask about belief. They ask about performance. But belief is what drives performance. When culture begins to fade, it doesn't look like chaos. It looks like calm. It looks like compliance. But underneath, the organisation is hollowing out. By the time a board notices the energy is gone, it’s often because the financials have turned, and by then, the people who could've helped reverse the trend have already left. In a 2022 Deloitte study on mid-market leadership, 64% of executives said culture was their top priority, yet only 27% said they measured it with any rigour . If you don’t track it, you won’t protect it. And if you don’t protect it, don’t be surprised when it disappears. The real risk: you might not get it back Here’s what no one likes to admit: Not all cultures recover. You can try rebrands. You can run engagement campaigns. You can roll out leadership frameworks and off-sites and feedback platforms. But if belief has been neglected for too long, the quiet ones you depended on, the culture carriers, the stretchers, the informal leaders, they’re already checked out. Some have left. Some are still there physically but not emotionally. And some have started coaching others to play it safe. Once that happens, you're not rebuilding. You're replacing. So what do you do? Don’t listen for noise. Listen for absence. Absence of challenge. Absence of stretch. Absence of belief. Ask yourself: When was the last time someone in the business pushed back? Not rudely, but bravely? When did someone offer an idea that made others uncomfortable? When did a leader admit they were unsure and ask for help? Those are your indicators. Because healthy culture isn’t silent. It’s alive. It vibrates with tension, disagreement, contribution and care. If everything looks fine, but no one’s really leaning in? That’s your problem. And by the time it shows up in the numbers,t might already be too late.

When Your Biggest Customer Becomes Your Biggest Risk: A Commercial Reality No One Wants to Admit

By John Elliott • May 8, 2025
In the FMCG and food manufacturing sector, we glorify customer wins. The logos on pitch decks. The volume metrics in board reports. The partnership language that implies mutual growth. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: Many mid-market FMCG businesses are quietly being crushed by the very customer relationships they once celebrated. So let’s ask the real question: What happens when your biggest customer becomes your biggest liability? A Dangerous Dependency No One Wants to Own Australian suppliers are no strangers to margin pressure. Whether you’re supplying Coles, Woolworths, or Costco, the power dynamics are rarely in your favour. A 2024 report by PwC shows that while 85% of Australian CEOs believe their businesses will remain viable for a decade if they maintain current strategies, the same report highlights a global shift towards faster business model reinvention — driven largely by dependency risks and commercial stagnation. In other words, the Australian market has become dangerously complacent. Companies stay anchored to one major retail relationship — because it’s familiar, because it’s comfortable, and because no one wants to say what everyone already knows: This relationship is now costing us more than it makes. The Structural Trap — Why Choice is an Illusion in Australian Retail And it’s not just about comfort. It’s also about limited choice. Australia’s grocery retail landscape is one of the most concentrated in the developed world. Woolworths and Coles account for over 65% of the total market. Add Aldi and Costco, and four players control the overwhelming majority of national grocery volume. This leaves most mid-market FMCG suppliers with only two real options to scale. You either win one of the majors — or you don’t grow. There’s no Tesco vs Sainsbury’s. No Target vs Kroger. No regional chain ecosystem to spread risk. So when a Woolworths or Coles listing lands, businesses go all in — not because they’re naive, but because structurally, they don’t have a viable alternative. And once they’re in, the retailer holds all the cards: promotional demands, packaging changes, supply chain compliance, and extended payment terms. This is how overexposure starts: not as a failure of strategy, but as a feature of the system. The Margin Myth: “Strategic Partnership” or Slow Suffocation? The term “strategic partner” implies shared goals and equitable benefit. But in many supplier-retailer relationships, that’s not how it plays out. Suppliers absorb freight increases, packaging changes, and promotional discounts — all in the name of partnership. Meanwhile, average net margins in Australian FMCG hover below 5% in many categories. Some, especially in private-label or chilled goods, are significantly lower. If you're constantly renegotiating, discounting, and funding promotional calendars to stay on shelf — you're not in a partnership. You're in a hostage situation with quarterly reviews. And the worst part? Most leadership teams can’t afford to walk away — and the customer knows it. Commercial Blind Spots: How Did We Let It Get This Far? It usually starts innocently. One major account grows, fast. The ops team scales up. Forecasts look strong. Then the volume dips. Forecasts aren’t met. But by then, too much infrastructure, headcount and internal process are built around a single customer. So you make the classic trade-offs: You hold off on new channel development. You delay diversification. You keep servicing at full cost — for diminishing returns. The account grows riskier with every passing quarter. But no one wants to put their hand up and say: “We’re overexposed. We built the business around a single buyer. And now we’re stuck.” How Businesses Get Trapped — And What the Alternative Looks Like The deeper question is: how are businesses ending up in this position to begin with? It’s not usually poor strategy. It’s the seduction of fast volume. A major retailer comes in with a large forecast, national exposure, and prestige. Execs say yes. Operations scale. Sales teams build pipelines around that one account. It becomes the centre of gravity for the entire business. And by the time volume doesn’t meet forecast, the machine is already too big to pivot. Warehousing, labour, production schedules — everything is now calibrated to serve one customer. But what’s the alternative? The most resilient FMCG brands in Australia are the ones who build multi-channel portfolios from day one. That means: Diversifying into DTC, foodservice, or independents, even when it’s slow to scale. Prioritising cost-to-serve data so every account’s profitability is clear — not just revenue. Rewarding commercial teams for profitable growth, not just top-line expansion. Investing in longer-term resilience, even if it means slower growth upfront. This approach doesn’t grab headlines. But it builds optionality. It gives leaders the power to say no. And that, ultimately, is how you get out of the trap. The Denial Loop: Why Leadership Doesn’t Act Sooner So why don’t businesses pivot faster? Because the consequences of admitting overdependence are immediate — cost cuts, tough board conversations, sometimes job losses. Admitting the issue feels riskier than managing the decline. Boards often get sugar-coated updates about “strong relationships” and “opportunities in the pipeline.” Meanwhile, account managers know that POs are getting shorter, shelf space is shrinking, and payment terms are stretching. But no one wants to be the bearer of bad news. The loyalty to that one big customer becomes a form of inertia. What Brave Commercial Leadership Looks Like Fixing this doesn’t mean severing key accounts. It means reassessing risk and rebuilding margin discipline — even if it’s painful in the short term. Here’s what commercial bravery looks like in this context: Modelling account risk exposure: What happens if your top customer halves their orders tomorrow? What if payment terms stretch to 120 days? Redefining your internal narrative: Stop calling a margin-eroding customer a “partner.” Start calling it what it is — a risk. Rebalancing your portfolio: Incentivise sales teams to win new channels, even at lower volume. Diversification is margin insurance. Rebuilding cost-to-serve models: Know exactly what it costs to service each account — down to logistics, chargebacks, and admin drag. This is what commercial leadership must look like in 2025. The Silent Crisis in Mid-Market FMCG This isn't just a one-off case study. It's a pattern playing out across Australia’s mid-market FMCG and manufacturing base. KPMG’s 2024 disruption report found that 52% of private companies list supply chain disruptions and over-dependence on external suppliers or customers as key threats to growth — but only 43% are actively addressing it. It’s not a strategic issue. It’s a leadership one. And it’s playing out in boardrooms right now. What’s at Stake? Everything. If your business is too dependent on one customer, you’re not in control of your own future. One category review, one change in buyer, one corporate acquisition — and your volume is gone overnight. Commercial leadership isn’t about maintaining the status quo. It’s about having the courage to act before the numbers force your hand. So ask yourself: Where are we quietly overexposed? What have we built our business around that’s now becoming a liability? And do we have the courage to change it — before the market makes that decision for us? This isn’t just about one customer. It’s about the future shape of your business. And the longer you avoid the truth, the more power you give away.