The callers were two sisters in a family of nine siblings ranging in age from 35 to 53. Only two of their brothers had taken over Dad’s business, and the two brothers were taking each other apart. Four or five of the others had gotten together, chagrined by the fact that neither Abel nor Cain had come to Mom and Dad’s for Easter, and agreed to share the cost of a family business conflict-resolution facilitator—if the brothers would consent to trying it.
The situation was grave. The brothers had already used the services of a professional mediator after agreeing to split up the business, which had a retail and a wholesale division (one profitable, the other barely squeaking by). A retired judge had spent 12 hours with them and their attorneys, culminating in a handshake agreement. But when the two attorneys wrote it up, their versions of what had been agreed upon didn’t match. Abel then filed for a court-appointed receiver to liquidate the corporation’s assets; he intended to purchase the assets from the receiver at book value, with the help of his wealthier wife. Cain had countered with a petition to enforce his version of the mediated agreement as a contract. The deposition process was to begin in 10 days.
I advised Janet and Ellen (not their real names, of course) to ask both brothers to call me—”for your sake, not for theirs, just because of the pain all this is causing you and your parents.” When both brothers did call, separately, the same day, I asked whether they themselves had any goals that couldn’t be met by playing out their litigation hands. They both said no. Both claimed they didn’t care “if there’s blood on the floor” afterward. Neither admitted to much concern about a future relationship, nor how much damage might be done to the other, financial or otherwise.
A couple of tough guys, each saw himself on the moral high ground, and his brother as a scoundrel. I had to laugh when Abel explained, in his gentle Hoosier accent, “Our family is half Sicilian, and Cain is in that half.”
I thanked them for their calls, for helping me respond to their siblings’ inquiry. I then faxed the sisters as follows:
Dear Janet and Ellen:
You and your siblings should be proud of having done all you can to help Abel and Cain find a fair, mature, amicable way to separate their businesses. You’ve now done everything possible, and after talking to both “boys” (as you accurately termed them), I advise you to save your money and cut your emotional losses.
The fact that you care for both of them and their families is not enough. Without a desire on both their parts for a peaceful resolution, there is nothing a facilitator like myself can do. We can only help people achieve goals they admit to; when clients who are fighting have an answer for every objection and a justification for every hostility, we haven’t discovered how to talk them into wanting peace. Their dispute belongs where it is, in the judicial system, which gives each party a fair opportunity to hurt the other as much as he can.
I suggest you write a letter, signed by all of you, expressing how disappointed you are in both of them for failing to find a mutually agreeable resolution. Tell them they are both welcome in your lives, separately or together, only so long as they never mention their dispute. “If you start whining to us about each other,” you might say, “or defending your own position, we’ll have to leave or ask you to leave.” Tell them that if they or their children say bad things to your kids about the other uncle, you’ll stop letting the kids play together. And if they ask you to take sides, they will only lose their relationship with you.
In delivering this message to both brothers, the most important thing is not to let either of them think you’re in sympathy with the other. “Abel, I’m not talking to you about Cain. I’m telling you both that I’m disappointed in you.” End of discussion. Hang up the phone or leave the room. (Same with their wives, if they won’t drop the subject.) Nor should any of you, or your parents, try to mediate the dispute yourselves. The problem is the combatants’ frame of mind, which is more interested in the conflict—or in beating each other—than in resolving it.
Naturally, this is a sad ending for your father’s dream and a great strain on your family. But if you let Cain and Abel involve you, either by taking sides or even by listening to their tales of woe, you are fueling their battle. They see themselves as heroes, fighting for justice against evil. I am sure they are both wrong about that. Attention from you is oxygen for their fire. You don’t, unfortunately, have the ability to extinguish it, because others outside the family will fan their flames even if you don’t. But you can at least separate yourselves from the problem.
Both Abel and Cain assured me that they will let me know if the judge tells them “you are both a couple of fools” and gives them a reason to want to reach an accord. In the meantime, you have done the right thing by exploring this possible avenue. Please remember that it is not the family’s fault if they choose a more destructive course than the one you lovingly offered.
The sisters were most appreciative of this advice. A month later I phoned Janet to find out whether my letter had actually helped in any way. Well, no, not really, she told me. They had shared the letter with their other concerned family members, especially Dad, who is 84 years old. But Dad couldn’t stop worrying about “the boys.” He had alternated between sleepless anxiety and bursts of anger. Unfortunately, he was siding with Abel, because he felt that Abel’s financial needs were greater than his brother’s; his children hadn’t started college yet while Cain’s were already on their own.
The siblings prevailed upon their brothers to try mediation again, this time with a family friend who taught negotiation at a nearby business school as the mediator. Their youngest brother and sister sat in as a kind of neutral cheering session. They started at 10 a.m. Near midnight, they closed on a dollar figure for the differential between the values of the two businesses. However, the deal fell apart the next morning. They were back where I had left them, even angrier and more disheartened.
The moral? If your loved ones choose war, make them take responsibility for its consequences. Sometimes too much diplomacy lets the disputants fixate on their rationalizations, while the would-be peacemakers feel like failures.
Kenneth Kaye of Kaye & McCarthy in Skokie, IL, is a family therapist who works exclusively with family businesses. He is the author of “Workplace Wars and How to End Them” (Amacom, New York, 1994).