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Succession Planning is Broken
- Cyrus Graesslin
- Aug 20
- 4 min read
But That Doesn’t Mean We Have to Wing It
Let me take you back to 2002.
I was a young, bright-eyed bartender at the Hyatt Regency in Auckland, New Zealand. I wore my vest like armor, my tie knotted with pride, and I was convinced I was on the fast track to greatness - or at the very least, the next supervisor role.
And then my actual supervisor quit.
I thought, “This is it. My time to shine.” Instead, someone from the outside was parachuted in, and guess who got to train them?
Yours truly.
Let’s just say I wasn’t exactly whistling while I worked after that. I felt overlooked, undervalued, and ultimately? I left. Not with a bang - more like a frustrated shrug and a half-finished barback shift.
That moment stayed with me. Not just the sting of not being chosen - but the chaos that followed.
No one was ready. No one was groomed. And certainly no one had a plan.
That was my first taste of what broken succession looks like. And ever since, I’ve made it a personal mission to never let that happen on my watch.
The Myth of “Later”
In hospitality, succession planning often feels like something to do after you’ve scaled. After the expansion. After the brand manual’s laminated. After the food cost is under 30%.
But trust me - that “later” often becomes “too late.”
People leave. Promotions happen. GMs burn out. Chefs disappear mid-season like Houdini in Crocs. Business doesn’t stop and say, “Oh you’re not ready yet? No worries, we’ll just pause until you figure it out.”
The restaurant industry runs fast. And if you don’t build a leadership bench, you’ll be stuck scrambling every time someone taps out.
From Food Runners to Frontmen
One of the most meaningful chapters in my career was watching Mohammed Waseem, a quiet, sharp-eyed food runner I hired in Bangalore, rise through the ranks and eventually take over Cafe Italia - the very restaurant I used to run in Bahrain in the late 2000's. I didn’t choose him because he’d been around the longest. I chose him because he showed promise, hunger, humility, and a willingness to learn.
Over the years, we gave him room to stretch, sometimes stumble, but always get back up sharper. That’s not just succession planning - that’s stewardship. That’s what it looks like to leave a place better than you found it.
Tenure ≠ Talent
Now, I know this one might ruffle feathers, but let’s be real.
There’s this long-standing myth in hospitality that the person who’s “been here the longest” deserves the next promotion. Loyalty is beautiful — until it becomes a substitute for merit. Just because someone’s clocked a decade doesn’t mean they’re the right person for the next level.
Then again, they might be. Maybe they were overlooked by poor management. Maybe they’re quietly exceptional. That’s why blanket assumptions in either direction don’t work.
Succession planning should be a meritocracy - not a time-based reward system. Tenure is a factor, not a verdict.
Succession Planning is Not About Resignation — It’s About Readiness
One of the biggest misconceptions? That succession only matters when someone quits.
But here’s the thing: what if the person leaving… is you?What if you’re the one transitioning, exiting, expanding, or stepping into a new season? Leaving well is an act of leadership too. It’s your responsibility to ensure that the show goes on - without the stage collapsing.
The Spreadsheet Syndrome
I’ve seen companies build “succession plans” that are basically Excel sheets with names typed in next to job titles and length of tenure. But unless those names are being actively mentored, challenged, and prepared - it’s just a wish list.
Development needs to be intentional, visible, and tied to real business scenarios. Your future head chef shouldn’t just know how to season a risotto. They should know how to coach a team, manage food cost, handle pressure, and stay sane when the fryer breaks mid-service.
Focus Where It Hurts Most
You don’t need a full-blown contingency plan for every last busser and barista. Start with the mission-critical roles - the ones that, if left empty tomorrow, would send operations into a tailspin.
Then build your bench. Two names behind each key role? That’s a plan. Zero? That’s a problem. Too
many? That’s confusion with a side of chaos.
It’s an Operational Discipline — Not an HR File
Let’s be honest - HR can support, but they can’t save you. Succession belongs to leadership. If you’re a GM or department head and you’ve got no one coming up behind you, that’s your blind spot. Not HR’s.
If the first time you’re discussing replacements is after someone leaves, it’s already a fire drill.
Plan for Scenarios, Not Just Roles
Succession planning isn’t about preserving today’s org chart. It’s about future-proofing your operation.
What if your flagship location doubles in size?
What if your head sushi chef launches a new concept?
What if you enter a new market where you can’t just “transfer” your top talent?
You don’t just need names - you need agility. People who can evolve as fast as the business does.
Build the Culture, Not Just the Plan
At the end of the day, great companies don’t just react well to departures - they build talent before it’s needed. That’s the culture we try to build at Salmontini. One where people are seen, trained, and stretched long before they get the title.
Where promotions aren’t panic-driven political plays, but the result of real growth and stewardship.
I’ve been the overlooked bartender. I’ve been the new boss walking into the storm. And now, I try to be the guy who doesn’t just lead well - but leaves well.
Because in this industry, it’s not just the food that keeps people coming back. It’s the people who lead it.
Oh, and one more thing - if you’re constantly scrambling to fill roles not because of growth, but because people are running for the exits… well, that’s not a succession issue. That’s a culture problem.
But don’t worry - that’s a spicy topic for another day! Let’s just say if the kitchen’s always short-staffed, it might not be the pay. It might be the temperature.
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