The Elder and the Old Man in the Boardroom
Fact Check Me: The Elder and the Old Man in the Boardroom
Elders are loved for their wisdom — not because they lead, but because they’ve lived.
They walked the hard paths before us.
They earned their place by surviving, by learning, by carrying the stories that made the next generation possible.
An elder can zoom out in a way the young can’t.
They see the whole picture because time gifted them distance.
They don’t cling to the direction the next generation is going — that’s not their job.
It’s the young who carry the fire now.
It’s their time to love, to fight, to wage war, to make peace.
The elder sits in their home, offers guidance when asked, and enjoys the years they have left.
They know their moment to drive has passed.
They don’t grab the wheel.
They don’t try to steer a world they no longer move through.
How could they?
The world today isn’t the one they built their bones in.
They are thoughtful, slow, measured — qualities that ground a people but don’t win battles that require velocity.
Their minds drift naturally to the long arc of the greater good, even when the moment demands sharp action.
That’s the beauty of them.
And the limitation.
But the elders who can’t let go — the ones who fight to stay in the center — history is far less kind to them.
Because no matter who you were, or what you accomplished, the moment you start chaining the next generation to your ego, you stop being an elder and become an obstacle.
And that’s the tragedy of leadership when it stretches past its natural life.
People don’t see wisdom anymore — they see weight.
They see great people pressed into the ground.
They see potential clipped before it can soar.
They see someone gripping the reins not out of service, but out of fear.
In the Western model, that fear is everywhere.
Old men in boardrooms clutching their seats like the world will collapse if they loosen their hands for a moment.
They act like they’re the last pillar holding everything up.
But here’s the truth:
If you have to hold up what you built,
you didn’t build anything.
You just built yourself into the middle of it.
Real builders create systems that stand without them.
Real leaders raise people who outgrow them.
Real elders know when to sit down so the next generation can finally stand up straight.
Wisdom doesn’t demand the wheel.
It points to the road.
And if that makes anyone uncomfortable,
go ahead —
Fact Check Me.