Episode 1: A Glorious Downfall
“No single individual can build a sustainably great company. But conversely, one flawed leader who wields power can drive a company to ruin.”
American economist Jim Collins said this in his book, ‘Where Have All the Great Companies Gone?’
Would it have been different for me, and for our company, if I had realized that truth a little sooner?
“To the respected and beloved employees of Hanguk Jeonseon, I am CEO Im Seho. It is truly shameful and devastating that I must bid you farewell in this manner. As of today, I resign from my position as CEO of Hanguk Jeonseon and have decided to cancel all shares I own through a major shareholder capital reduction. As you all know, since 2009, the company has been proceeding with asset divestment and financial restructuring under a voluntary agreement with its creditors. Many people have already left the company, and wages have been cut. However, I judged that I myself, holding major shareholder stakes merely as the founder’s grandson without any exceptional ability, could become an obstacle to the company’s normalization. During this time, the company’s liquidity crisis has caused great harm to you employees and shareholders; I believe that only the cancellation of my shares can serve as even a small atonement. For over sixty years, from my grandfather to my undeserving self across three generations, thank you all for your unwavering faith and support. And I am sorry to step down leaving you only with this heavy burden. Going forward, I will earnestly pray from outside the company that you will overcome this crisis together with Chairman Gang Ilsang and President Yang Heuchan, professional managers who will lead the way.”
It was already a story from the past, but the downfall of a chaebol family that had once commanded Korea!
Despite the weight of what it contained, the press conference was brief.
How many nights had I spent drinking, wrestling with anguish, before I could hold this press conference?
Family, friends, retired company elders, and countless experts from various fields. I had listened to many opinions and debated.
The time of worry and suffering before reaching the decision had been long, yet now that I had publicly declared my relinquishment of management rights, the heavy burden that had pressed on my heart seemed to vanish—what irony was this?
Blinking away the mist in my eyes, I looked around the grand auditorium filled with employees and reporters.
In the center of the front row, my mother was shedding tears continuously.
Beside her, my younger brother, three years my junior, was glaring at me, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.
The veins in his tightly clenched, trembling fist bulged visibly.
Once the press conference ended, he would probably punch me. Would my teeth be okay?
In 2004, my father, who had been the chairman of the Mirae Group, passed away suddenly without leaving a word, and nine years had already passed since I—an immature twenty-three-year-old who had just been discharged from the military and was idling about preparing for college graduation and study in America—inherited my father’s shares without any preparation.
It was right here that I had witnessed my mother’s inauguration as chairman and that bastard Lee Seongho’s inauguration as president.
And I had vowed to succeed my grandfather and father, to build the nation’s greatest company without bringing shame to them.
At the time, I firmly believed in Lee Seongho, thinking that if I gained enough experience and received his assistance, it would be difficult but entirely possible.
The memory of that day felt like yesterday, yet today, in the same place as nine years ago, I had forever let Hanguk Jeonseon—which had once risen to fourth place in the business world—slip from the hands of the Im family.
And with my own two hands, at that...
“Reporter Lee Seokhun from Naeil Economy. This is truly an unexpected decision. What are your plans going forward?”
At the reporter’s question, I escaped from my heavy thoughts.
“First, separate from the share cancellation, I will inject personal funds to cover half of the bills coming due this month. I had wanted to cover all of this month’s bills before leaving, but embarrassingly, after paying inheritance taxes in the past and participating in multiple paid-in capital increases, little remains of my fortune. I am merely ashamed. I hope this can serve as a final atonement to the employees who endured restructuring and wage cuts due to my incompetence.”
“Reporter Kim Jeongho from the Hanyeong Ilbo. In truth, wasn’t the downfall of Hanguk Jeonseon—once called the Cash King of the Republic of Korea as recently as nine years ago—due less to any fault of CEO Im Seho, who lacked decision-making authority at the time, and more due to the embezzlement, breach of trust, and reckless investments of former Vice Chairman Lee Seongho, who is now in prison? You could even be called a victim, so why do you feel the need to take responsibility to this extent?”
From my grandfather to me across three generations, I prided myself that we were different from other chaebols.
From the company’s founding through my father’s tenure, employee salaries were never once delayed, and we never slashed subcontractor prices or engaged in the abuse of power so common among chaebols, remaining faithful to noblesse oblige.
I, too, had always treated people with goodwill, yet this was the result.
I was paying a very steep price for my foolishness.
Yes, our family was like a lone black swan among a flock of white swans.
Perhaps I never had the makings of a chaebol chairman. I had been far more at ease in my college days, investing in stocks with friends and my seniors and juniors.
“Former Vice Chairman Lee Seongho served my father at his side as chief secretary and spent over thirty years at the group’s core before his arrest. During that long time, I failed to see his true colors and used the excuse that I was still gaining experience to entrust him with full authority as a professional manager over the group. Despite various warning signs, I complacently failed to suspect him—that, too, is my responsibility. Who else should take responsibility but me?”
“I see...”
From the reporter trailing off, I thought I caught a muttered, “He’s too hard on himself.”
After a few more questions and answers, I approached Chairman Gang Ilsang, the professional manager who would lead the company’s normalization in my stead.
“Chairman Gang, please take good care of things after I’m gone.”
“Seho...”
“I am truly sorry to leave after bringing things to this state.”
“Seho, I too have buried my bones in this company for thirty years since the previous generation. This company is like another family to me. I will give it my all.”
“The private equity fund will keep its promises, right?”
“If you’ve accepted those absurd conditions and are canceling all your shares, they have to keep their word! They’re utter scoundrels!”
Private equity funds are inherently bloodless, tearless entities whose sole purpose is maximizing returns.
And among them, KMM, a top-ranked firm, would be all the more so.
We were the ones with regrets now; the more we cursed them, the more it would sound to them like the desperate thrashing of losers and a sweet declaration of surrender.
Didn’t they say a barking dog doesn’t bite?
That was how cornered we were; the more we were backed into a corner, the more splendid a feast they would enjoy.
No doubt they would do their utmost to normalize the company in order to sell it for a high price later; we could only believe in their competence.
“Then I will take my leave. Thank you for everything all this time.”
After my final farewell, I quietly exited through the rear door of the auditorium.
Would he truly be different from that bastard Lee Seongho?
Could he save the company without selfish motives?
My feet simply would not move.
Following my heavy steps, my mother, still shedding silent tears, and my brother, huffing with barely contained rage, came out after me.
“Hyung! I told you not to! What the hell is this!”
“Hey! Even if I’m stripped bare now, I didn’t touch a single penny of the inheritance you received, did I? You’re still incredibly rich, so what are you worried about? If anyone should worry, it’s me, haha~”
“You think this is funny? That’s not what I’m talking about! Hyung... Hyung! Hey, you bastard, Im Seho! It’s the company Grandfather and Father built with blood and sweat! Who are you to throw it away as you please! Who are you... Waaah!”
My younger brother eventually sank to the ground and burst into wailing. A grown man, at that... You idiot, do you think that will do anything but worsen my festering insides...
“Seyong! That’s exactly why! Because Grandfather and Father nurtured it with everything they had! Our family! No, I! must take responsibility. I... I learned that from Father... That’s what I learned! I won’t run away! Do you understand? I won’t run away! If I hold onto my shares, selling the company and restructuring become harder. My taking responsibility and bearing the cross is the only way to save the company.”
At those words, my mother too finally collapsed to the ground.
“Se, Seho... This mother trusted that wretch Lee Seongho too much and brought this humiliation upon you... I truly have no face to show you... *Sob*”
“Mother, it wasn’t only you who trusted him. Seyong and I, no, all the employees trusted him. At first, didn’t all the media praise it as the ideal relationship between an owner and a professional manager? Don’t blame yourself. This was inevitable. It just so happened that I was the one in the position to take responsibility.”
“Hyung... Why are you so obsessed with noblesse oblige? Look at the other chaebols! They’re all living well without doing that! Aren’t they? They live even better! Just lay off more employees! Slash the subcontractors’ prices! Sell everything that can be sold! You have to hold onto your shares so the creditors don’t ignore you and you can at least negotiate... Hyung... We’re not the employees’ nannies... We’re just in a simple contractual relationship with them... We have to survive first...”
“Seyong... That’s not right.”
“...You know what? I think you’ve gone mad with self-satisfaction. You think people will look up to you and say, ‘Wow, he’s amazing’? Do you think that’ll last even a year? If you live like that, telling yourself, ‘Ah, I was an amazing third-generation chaebol,’ is that really happiness? I guarantee it, you’ll regret it. I don’t even know anymore. I’m going to sell all my shares, take Mother, and go live in America. Live well, Hyung.”
With those words, my younger brother glared at me, then supported Mother and disappeared outside the company building.
Yes, my brother might be right.
But the rice was already cooked, and matters had progressed to this point; even if my values changed now, what difference would it make?
At least in this life.
* * *
Now, I went up to my personal office, which felt like it had lost its master, and began packing my things.
Although administrative procedures remained before I would formally step down from the board and actually cancel my shares, now that I had held the press conference, it was only right that I disappear from the company just like this.
It had been five years since I had raced through department head, division head, and executive vice president in just three years and come up to this place, which had been my father’s office.
Though it bore the traces of my father’s hands, the five years here had been nothing but despair.
Five years of blaming my powerless self as I watched the company gradually topple.
Now it was truly the end.
I would check just one thing I had been unable to bring myself to do all this time, and then let go of all lingering attachment to this company.
[Beep~]
“Director Kim, I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to ask this of you now that I’m no longer the CEO... but I’m sorry, could I ask you for one last thing?”
[Yes, CEO. I’ll come right in.]
[Knock, knock!]
“Yes, please come in.”
Director Kim Yunsik, who had attended to me for five years, entered with a somber expression.