When Family Business Becomes Personal
What Washington needs to understand about families, employees and generational businesses
Two years ago, I went to Washington DC and didn’t say very much. I listened. I watched. I tried to understand how all of this worked.
I’m not a policy expert. I didn’t grow up dreaming about legislation. I grew up in family business. And I’m starting to realize that might be exactly why my voice belongs in the room.
This week I was back in Washington DC with Family Enterprise USA, and I kept noticing the women. There still aren’t very many of us. Women were probably 1/8 of the room — definitely less than 20%. And yet somehow we find each other really quickly.
Danielle is G6 in her family business. Cheryl is the G1 founder of hers. Six generations apart. And honestly? It almost doesn’t matter.
The businesses are different. The families are different. The stories are different. But then we start talking.
Family drama. Sacrifice. Stepping into leadership. Working with our parents. Working with our children. Saying yes before we necessarily feel ready. Learning when to speak up. Realizing something needs to change. Trying to build something without losing ourselves or the people we love in the process.
The details are different. The human experience is remarkably similar.
And one thing I kept hearing was how important it is for more women to get involved and have a voice in Washington.
When I first started going, I thought I needed to understand more before I could contribute. I thought they wanted the big picture. The statistics. The talking points.
Of course those things matter.
But I’ve learned something really important:
They want the stories.
I don’t host a podcast right now, but when I go to Washington DC, I find myself putting my podcast-host hat back on. I ask questions. I want to pull the business owner’s story out.
What actually happened? What did that regulation do? Or what will it do? Who did it impact? What decision did you have to make because of it? What did your family sacrifice? What almost broke? What worked?
Get gritty. Get real. Tell the tiny detail you assume doesn’t matter.
That’s often the part that makes someone understand.
One of the things I’m talking about right now is H.R. 601, the Estate Tax Rate Reduction Act, which would reduce the top federal estate-tax rate from 40% to 20%.
But even writing that sounds like a talking point.
So here’s what it means to me.
My dad owns family businesses. I’m not currently operating those companies. There are employees who are.
And someday my dad is going to die.
I hate even writing that sentence.
Because that’s the actual story.
It won’t just be an estate-planning event. It will be our dad dying. We’ll be grieving and trying to figure out a new way of doing life.
And the businesses won’t stop.
Payroll doesn’t stop. Employees don’t stop needing answers. Customers don’t disappear. Trucks still need to run. Equipment still needs to work.
And depending on the value of the estate and the planning that has been done, there can also be a significant federal estate-tax obligation.
Think about an asset-heavy family business for a minute. Farming. Construction. Manufacturing. A cheese factory. Real estate.
The family might look incredibly wealthy on paper because there is land, buildings, equipment, trucks, trailers, machinery and inventory.
That doesn’t mean there is $14 million sitting in a checking account.
For a deliberately simplified example, imagine an estate with $50 million of taxable value and a $15 million individual federal exclusion. That leaves $35 million above the exclusion. At a 40% rate, you’re potentially talking about roughly $14 million before all of the real-world estate-specific calculations, deductions and planning.
Where does a family get $14 million in cash?
You can’t pay the IRS with half a tractor. You can’t send them 30% of the factory.
So now, while the family is grieving, assets have to be inventoried. Valuations have to happen. Attorneys and accountants get involved. And somehow the family has to figure out the liquidity.
There are absolutely things families can do in advance. But families aren’t always prepared.
And when the cash isn’t there, one possible answer is to sell.
Sell land. Sell assets. Borrow. Restructure. Sell the business to private equity or a competitor.
And suddenly the thing generations of a family spent their lives building isn’t a family business anymore.
That’s the story.
Not because every family business will face that exact situation. They won’t. But because “40% estate tax” doesn’t tell you what it feels like when tax policy collides with a real family, real employees, real assets and the death of someone you love.
It’s a little like being asked to cut your arm off while you’re still figuring out how to breathe.
And underneath all of it are humans.
Maybe Dad and his daughter run different divisions. Maybe brothers work together. Maybe Mom founded the company and her daughter is figuring out whether she wants to become the next CEO. Maybe G6 is trying to honor five generations while building something that actually fits the world she’s inheriting.
Maybe there are employees who have been there for 25 years and their families depend on what happens next too.
The humans are the asset.
That’s why these conversations connect so deeply to the work I’m already doing with families, NextGen and business owners.
Who actually wants to lead? What are we asking NextGen to carry? What are we giving them permission to change? Where are the women? Who has authority? What have we never talked about because everyone assumes there will be time later?
And what are we building around the humans so they can actually succeed?
I want more women in these rooms.
G1. G6. Mom. Daughter. Founder. NextGen.
You don’t need to become a policy expert before you participate. Know your business. Know your family. Know what happened. Then be willing to tell the truth about it.
And be clear about the ask.
Is there a bill you want them to support? Something you need them to challenge? A consequence they may not have considered?
Tell them.
Then tell them why.
Who gets hurt? Who gets helped? What changes Monday morning in your company? What happens around your family’s kitchen table?
Two years ago, I mostly listened.
Now I’m telling more of the story.
With love and belief,
Jaime
