The Truth About Family Business

From the inside.

The only picture I have of me (in green) with my grandfather JI Rodale, founder of Rodale Press. My older brother David and younger brother Anthony are also present. This was taken on our farm. Art by Me. I’m pretty sure my Dad took the photo.

I’ve been thinking a lot about family business lately, now that our family business has been officially sold, cleaned up, and ended. And a recent conversation with Clara Coleman, daughter of famed garden writer Eliot Coleman, reminded me of my own, although very different, complicated experiences. My son-in-law, who was a witness to the final years of the business, has told me multiple times how good the show Succession is and that I should watch it.

“I don’t want to watch it. I lived it.” I told him multiple times. Instead of yachts, helicopters, or private planes, we had farms, more art of dubious value than you can ever hang in one place, and a random assortment of buildings. Frankly, I would rather stick needles in my eyeballs than watch it. I don’t care how good a show it is.

Tolstoy notoriously wrote in Anna Karenina that “All happy families are alike. Every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” The extensive family business consulting industry loves to use this quote with compassion on their highly paid faces. But I’ve spoken to so many people in family businesses, all with different experiences but with very similar stories. After a lifetime of being raised in a family business, running it, and then selling it, I am no longer sure family businesses are good for the world. In fact, they probably aren’t good for anyone.

I can totally understand how family businesses came to be…people had kids who learned the business by their parent’s side, often providing free labor. The patriarch and matriarch got to pass on their wealth to future generations, hopefully by paying as few taxes as possible. And the legacy of the founder becomes solidified in the family history books. It’s a model that has “worked” for thousands of years, for businesses, farms, and monarchies (with mixed success, most definitely). Perhaps it’s time for a change and here’s why:

The business becomes the head of the family and often, a substitute for real love. The business is present at every meal, every holiday, and every argument. It’s a lens that can’t be removed. How will each thing appear to our customers and employees? Will something have a negative or positive impact on the business? Appearances take priority over truth. Jobs, bonuses, and perks are handed out to keep kids in line and under the control of the parents need to protect the business and their image of success. Instead of true loving attention from a parent, often kids are just swept into the business as a substitute for real care. Offices, fields, and warehouses act as daycare. Employees become babysitters. After school or summer jobs become a way to keep kids in the business and “busy” rather than allow them to follow their own dreams, creating an unhealthy dependency and fear of venturing out on their own.

Nepo babies, envy, and jealousy poison the family and the business. It’s impossible for a kid to grow up in a family business and not get constantly accused of nepotism. And it starts early. Even though it’s not a kid’s fault that they are born into a family business, it becomes a ball and chain they must carry — often because others are jealous of the benefits such kids enjoy. Even within the family, envy and jealousy over power and money replace healthy relationships. Again, what these kids truly long for is loving attention and care. But when that is scarce, money and power become a proxy for a parent’s love. In my case, I bullied through all the envy, jealousy, and rancor because I hoped that one day I would be able to bring my vision of the future to life through our business. But by the time it was my turn, the company was burdened with significant debt and the whole publishing industry was beginning to implode. That’s why I spent my ten years as CEO laying off far too many people and firing more than I can count. Shutting down businesses and attempting to communicate the need for change to people who were too comfortable with the way things were was a battle no one could win. That experience, my friends, is nothing to envy.

Kids become commodities and trapped, rather than unique and free individuals. When I was little, I had dreams. I wanted to be a fashion designer. An artist. An author. Since I was “fourth in line for the throne” I was able to indulge my childish fantasies until the day I couldn’t. That’s a complicated story for a memoir one day. But suffice it to say we all felt trapped, even if it was a source of pride. My older brother and I used to call it “the velvet prison.” I became a writer by sheer rebellion and survival. And I’m so glad I did because now that everything else is gone, it’s something I have left that I can still do — still need to do. The truth is, just like Dorothy with her magic shoes, I could have escaped at any time. But it was beyond my comprehension that it was possible. And the one time I did quit (1996), my mother insisted on it being a leave of absence and continued to keep paying me. That was when I wrote my first book. Sounds great but also it left me with a strange sense of indebtedness and even further bondage.

The legal, financial, and consulting businesses that thrive from helping family businesses pass on wealth and avoid estate taxes are draining financially and emotionally. I will never get back all the time I spent in my life listening to lawyers, financial experts and business consultants explain and explore 1,001 different shenanigans to pay less taxes, manage the family trusts and family employees for maximum fairness and compensation, and train the next generation to become owners rather than managers. In fairness, I learned a lot. But in truth, I would have rather been getting a Ph.D. in Anthropology, the history of Religion, or Systems Science while being an artist and writer.

Love and duty get mixed up and confused. What is our duty and responsibility as adults in a family business? What is our duty as adults in any family? I was raised with the 100% expectation that I was to be involved in the family business and it was our family’s duty and responsibility to make sure it continued to the next generations and the only way out was death. I will never forget when I stopped by my father’s office the day before he was leaving for Russia to give him my hat size measurement so he could get me one of those big Russian fur hats. He looked kind of tired and sad so I asked him if there was anything I could do for him. He looked up at me from his desk, pushed a large pile of papers towards me, and said: “Yes. All of it.” I laughed it off and bade him safe travels. He died in a car accident on that trip. But in his blood-stained suitcase was a big fur hat for me and two others for my sisters. That was in 1990. For 30 years after I did as much “all of it” as I could while helping my alcoholic mother through 4 bouts of breast cancer and her final death. I felt the duty and responsibility to succeed and pass the company on to the next generation like a flaming sword of righteousness. Thankfully, it was my nephew Andrew who dared to say the quiet part out loud: The 4th generation didn’t want the business. They wanted out. His courage unleashed all our courage and the velvet prison doors, rusty with age and lack of use, creaked open for us to step out into our own true lives.

There are good things…

Family therapy is a good thing, which taught me how to grow up and deal with my parents and siblings as an objective adult rather than a petulant child with old childhood grudges. But it didn’t change anyone, or diffuse the jealousy and toxic behavior. In fact, I probably learned more about my own personal trauma and behavior from the last 3 years scrolling through TikTok than I did from any one therapist, although I am extremely grateful to all of them.

Helping others is a good thing. Our books, magazines, and websites saved people’s lives and birthed the Regenerative Organic movement. We employed thousands of people over the decades who made decent livings and felt part of something good. I’m incredibly grateful and proud of that.

Traveling and meeting people from around the world is a good thing. We had business partners around the world and it was fun to travel and be entertained. I learned to see that some aspects of humanity are the same no matter where one lives or what culture they come from. That taught me not to fear those who are different from me.

The best thing about everything I experienced and learned is that it taught me how to be a better mother to my own children, even though I was working full-time through all of it. I tried to make sure my kids knew they had the freedom to choose their own destiny, and that they were loved for who they were, not for what they could do for the business. I stopped drinking 25 years ago so that I could be truly present for them (and myself). Making dinner for all of us was our church. In fact, family businesses have been better for women in general, because the job security of being family allows for flexibility that others may not feel. That’s a good thing.

I am truly proud of the family business and the legacy of what we accomplished. Our mission still lives on in the work of the Rodale Institute. But as I used to tell people who were jealous of me and my “power” — the mission belongs to all of us. All of you. The mission to make the world a better, healthier, and happier place doesn’t have to be tied to a job or a business. It starts in the heart.

Last year, as everything was winding down, I couldn’t get this song out of my head. It’s called Eucalyptus by The National. I sang this refrain over and over in my head:

“You should take it, 'cause I'm not gonna take it
You should take it, if miss it, I'll visit
You should take it, 'cause I'm not going to take it
You should take it, you should take it”

It’s how I’ve been feeling about the whole thing. I’m ready to move on. We all did our best and worked together despite our differences.

Happily, our original “main” building in Emmaus is now a school with an environmental focus. Our largest building has become a luxury retirement apartment complex. Our farms now belong to the non-profit Rodale Institute. And all the good works that every single person in my family from all the generations did (too many to list) still live on in our community, for the benefit of all.

In an ideal world, if someone starts a business, rather than expecting their kids to take it over in perpetuity and fight among themselves for a lifetime, they should sell it to interested kids or outsiders and allow the family to be a true family. Sure, families that aren’t in business together have their fair share of problems too. And maybe that’s the most important point here: We all need to learn to be better parents, create happier families, and love each other for who we are, whether there is a business involved or not. That’s how we can break free from generational trauma and truly create a better, healthier, and happier world for everyone, including nature.

After all, we can’t take anything with us when we die. And the most important thing to leave behind is love.