CEO and owner: what (everything!) can go wrong

Today, I'm burdened with the most difficult topic – relationships. But not the kind you discuss in psychological training sessions, but the kind that determines the fate of a business: the CEO and the Owner.

When an owner hires a CEO, they usually think they've bought themselves some peace of mind. A person who will "sort everything out," "restore order," and finally allow them to focus on bigger things or just live their life. But there's one problem here: the roles of owner and CEO are inherently conflicting.

The owner builds themselves. The CEO has to build the system. And if the owner is not ready to change their mindset, this tandem starts to break down almost immediately.

I've seen it many times. Both from the outside. And from the inside.

The most common trap is the illusion of control, especially for owners who have grown up with the business. At the start, this is a strength: you know everything, you make decisions quickly, and you react instantly. But as the company grows, the same habit of "keeping your finger on the pulse" suddenly turns into the main vulnerability.

The owner lives inside the business, wanting to know every number, every contract, every little detail. But in such a structure, the CEO cannot live above the business – they are constantly drawn into the operational side of things.

As a result, the CEO becomes a very tired owner with no shares. They no longer build culture, think about the company's architecture, or look ahead. They are just another decision-making point, another bottleneck. Scaling ends at this point – not because of the market, but because of the person. Because the CEO's job is to be a multiplier.

The second, even more costly mistake is a gap in accountability. It arises when the owner cannot let go of their own ego – that is, they continue to behave as if they must be the smartest person in the room and know the answers to all questions. In such a system, CEOs and managers quickly understand the unspoken rule: it's better to say anything than to honestly admit you don't know.

The owner seems to want control, but in reality, they create a culture of fear of making mistakes. And where you can't say "I don't know," something else begins – fabricated numbers, optimistic forecasts, and reports that look good but have nothing to do with reality. And at this point, responsibility seems to dissolve: formally, everyone "knows" something, but in fact, no one is responsible for the truth.

In my case, when I was CEO, it turned out differently. At some point, we discovered that managers had been improving margins for several months in overly creative ways – on the edge and sometimes beyond acceptable limits! Not because they were bad people, but because they were afraid of appearing unsuccessful. The reports looked good, the presentations were convincing, but meanwhile, the cash was quietly draining away. When this came to light, we were not just cleaning up a financial mess, but also dealing with the risk of fines and reputational damage.

It wasn't the team's mistake. It was a gap in responsibility – mine and the owner's. Because honesty in numbers doesn't just appear on its own. It has to be allowed.

Another painful topic is delegation. Real delegation, not "here's a task, report every step, and I'll comment." A hired CEO should do very little, but very important things. Everything that is not irreversible, does not change the rules of the game, or does not concern the top level, should be delegated. But it is often difficult for the owner to accept this. Because to delegate means to allow things to be done differently. And to accept that sometimes the result will be worse than if they had done it themselves.

Without this, a CEO cannot hire strong people. Because instead of building a team, they start competing with it – to remain "the smartest in the room."

There were decisions in my life that, in principle, could not be delegated. I remember a moment when trucks with new bottles arrived at the brewery, and there simply wasn't any money to pay the drivers. I withdrew everything that was in the account and paid them. It was an irreversible decision, critical for the company's reputation. It couldn't be passed on to the commercial director or the financier. This was my area of responsibility as CEO. And the owner must give the manager the right to make such decisions – otherwise, they are not a CEO, but a dispatcher.

And finally, the worst-case scenario: burnout of the leader. Companies very rarely fail because of a crisis. They fail because of exhaustion. When everything rests on one person who pulls, holds it all in their head, and sorts it out, the system is already broken. It just hasn't fallen apart yet.

An owner who doesn't build a system of checks and balances – a supervisory board, a strong environment, an opportunity for the CEO to discuss difficult decisions – dooms them to burnout. A burnt-out CEO doesn't leave their position. They start pretending that everything is fine. And it is at this moment that they become a real threat to the business.

"A real board is not needed for the minutes. It is needed so that the CEO does not lose his mind. So that he can honestly say: "I don't know what to do next" – and hear not swearing, but a question!

Because a CEO without a support system doesn't age. They gradually go crazy. And with them, the business.

The bottom line is simple and unpleasant: owner and CEO are not about hierarchy. They are about different roles, different responsibilities, and a lot of inner maturity. And if the owner is not ready to stop building themselves, no CEO will save their company.

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