Part I - White Smoke: What the Papal Conclave Can Teach Us About Succession Planning
Here's a question I've been sitting with lately: Why are we so spectacularly bad at succession planning?
I mean, seriously. We watch organizations implode (or quietly fall apart) after charismatic founders depart. We witness nonprofits drift into mission fog when long-term executives step down. We see family businesses dissolve into soap opera-worthy feuds the minute succession becomes necessary.
And yet, there exists an institution that has managed to survive leadership transitions for over two millennia.
The Catholic Church's papal conclave – the intriguing smoke-signaled process of selecting a new pope – represents history's most enduring succession system. Whatever your feelings about Catholicism itself, there's something remarkable about an organization that has weathered 2,000 years of transitions.
So what can we learn from this process? Quite a lot, as it turns out. This is the first article in a series of six, with this first article exploring the foundational structure and process elements of the conclave, as well as examining how having pre-established processes, deliberative space, and clear closure rituals benefit succession planning.
The Structure Exists Before the Need Arises
I'm not suggesting your nonprofit should start burning voting cards to produce white smoke from the chimney when you select your next Executive Director or CEO (though I'd absolutely attend that board meeting!)
After diving into Robert Harris' novel "Conclave" and its recent film adaptation, I am fascinated by the Vatican's meticulous succession machinery and the more typical haphazard "we'll figure it out when we need to" approach that dominates most organizations.
The papal succession process doesn't begin when a pope dies or resigns – it quietly waits in the wings along the way, a dormant system ready to activate at a moment's notice. Meanwhile, most organizations don't start succession planning until the moving boxes appear in the CEO's office.
“The Catholic Church acknowledges that People Leave™️ with this well-thought out plan, and here is our first crucial lesson: The structure exists before the vacancy occurs.”
In "Conclave," Cardinal Lomeli doesn't need to invent a selection process when the Holy Father dies. He doesn't frantically Google "how to choose a new pope" or call an emergency meeting to figure out voting procedures. The system – with its ballots, supermajority requirements, and sequestration protocols – springs into action immediately.
Compare that to the panicked scrambling most boards experience when a founder announces their departure or when another reason for their exit arises. Suddenly, everyone's asking questions that should have been answered years ago: What exactly does our leader do? What qualities should we look for in a successor? Who's responsible for maintaining relationships with key donors during the transition?
The conclave doesn't waste time on these fundamentals because they were established centuries ago. The cardinals can focus entirely on the actual decision at hand.
The Power of Closing the Door
"But wait," I hear you thinking, "isn't the conclave wildly secretive and totally non-transparent? Isn't that the opposite of good governance?"
Yes and no.
The conclave's extreme isolation – cardinals literally locked away from the world, with no phones, internet, or outside contact – represents both its most medieval aspect and one of its greatest strengths.
The conclave creates what I call "decision space" – an environment where deliberative thinking can actually happen. This isolation forces cardinals to engage with each other directly rather than performing for outside audiences. This isn't about secrecy for secrecy's sake. It's about creating conditions where authentic deliberation can occur without the distorting effects of external pressure.
Most organizations do not yet have a decision space. Most organizations haven’t even discussed how they make decisions as a team, let alone thoughtful processes for endings and transitions. These orgs conduct succession planning in the same fragmented, distracted environment where they make every other decision – sandwiched between budget reviews and program updates in regular board meetings, with everyone checking their phones.
The conclave teaches us that consequential decisions require consecrated space.
The Pope's Long Game: Succession Planning Through Appointment
Here's where things get really interesting. Every living pope is actively engaged in succession planning through their power to appoint cardinals. Each time a pope puts the red hat on a cardinal's head, he's potentially selecting his own successor or, at minimum, someone who will vote for that successor.
It's succession planning by proxy, and it's breathtakingly strategic.
In "Conclave," Harris portrays how different factions within the College of Cardinals represent the appointees of different popes. The conservative cardinals appointed under one papacy battle the progressive cardinals appointed by another. Each pope's appointees carry forward their vision, creating continuity even when the specific outcome isn't controlled.
This dynamic should feel familiar to anyone who's served on a nonprofit board:
The founder who carefully selects board members aligned with their vision.
The executive director who promotes folks to key positions before announcing retirement.
The board chair who strategically recruits new board members to maintain control over organizational direction.
We all engage in this kind of succession planning by proxy – we just rarely acknowledge it as explicitly as the Vatican does.
And here's the fascinating twist: Despite this strategic appointment power, popes can't actually control who succeeds them. Benedict XVI appointed conservative cardinals, yet they ultimately elected Francis, who pursued a somewhat different direction. The system allows for influence without guaranteeing control – a delicate balance that prevents both chaotic discontinuity and stifling predetermination.
White Smoke and Psychological Closure
Let's talk about that iconic white smoke. When a new pope is selected, white smoke billows from the Sistine Chapel chimney. It's theatrical. It's dramatic. It's ancient. And it's psychologically brilliant. Before watching Conclave, the white smoke was about all I knew about the process to choose a new pope.
This visual signal provides what few leadership transitions ever offer: a clear, undeniable moment of closure and new beginning. There is a "before" and an "after," visible to everyone from cardinals to the faithful in St. Peter's Square to observers worldwide.
Most organizational transitions lack this clarity. The outgoing leader lingers as an advisor (my recommendation if the leader chooses not to make a clean break) or, in one of the worst decisions I think can be made, they join the board. The incoming leader gradually assumes responsibilities and the handover - when there is overlap - can stretch over months or years, creating confusion about who's really in charge.
(*Resignations, retirements, terminations, long-term leaves are more common in most nonprofit organizations, and few situations of death occur while a leader is in office. Only six popes have resigned from the papacy (Pontian (235), Silverius (537), John XVIII (1009), Benedict IX (1045), Celestine V (1294), and Gregory XII (1415). Benedict IX notably resigned three times, even selling the title to Gregory VI. The most recent resignation was Pope Benedict XVI in 2013)
The conclave's white smoke teaches us the psychological importance of clean transitions. People need to know when one chapter has ended and another has begun. They need symbolic moments that help process the emotional reality of change.
What's your organization's version of white smoke? What clear signal tells everyone – staff, board members, clients, donors – that transition has officially occurred?
The Grief Room
Perhaps the most overlooked aspect of the conclave process – and the one most lacking in conventional succession planning – is the integration of grief and mourning.
Before the conclave begins, the Church observes a mandatory nine-day mourning period (novemdiales). This isn't just religious tradition; it's a psychologically elevated succession practice.
In "Conclave," Harris portrays cardinals processing their grief collectively before making decisions about the future. We see Cardinal Lomeli struggling with personal loss while managing the process. The novel reveals how established rituals provide structure during emotional turmoil, allowing space for both mourning and forward movement.
Most organizational transitions offer no such space for emotional processing. We celebrate departing leaders at awkward goodbye parties, then immediately pivot to "exciting new chapters" without acknowledging the complex feelings – loss, anxiety, even relief – that accompany leadership change.
“The conclave reminds us that effective succession isn’t just about procedures and candidates – it’s about the psychological journey of an entire community through a period of profound change.”
Supermajority and Consensus Building
Another fascinating aspect of the conclave is its voting requirement: a successful papal election requires a two-thirds supermajority.
This isn't just an arbitrary threshold. It forces consensus-building rather than simple majority rule. It prevents a narrow faction from imposing its will. It requires candidates to appeal beyond their base of natural supporters.
In "Conclave," Harris portrays how this system necessitates multiple rounds of voting, allowing for reflection and coalition-building. Initial front-runners often fail as the process forces deeper consideration of what the institution truly needs.
Compare this to how most organizations make succession decisions: simple majority votes, decisions made by small executive committees, or in some cases, founders simply handpicking their successors without meaningful consultation.
The conclave's supermajority requirement acknowledges that succession isn't just about finding a competent leader – it's about finding one who can unify disparate elements of an organization. It prioritizes consensus over efficiency, recognizing that a leader selected through superficial agreement will struggle to govern effectively.
What would change in your organization's succession process if you required broader consensus? What trade-offs would you make between efficiency and unity?
NOTE: I strongly recommend that organizations thoughtfully consider the differences between identifying a name vs. naming a role, when navigating their organizational succession plan. If you’d like to learn more about this, please send me an email at Naomi@8thandHome.com.
Questions Without Easy Answers
As I reflect on the strange wisdom of the papal conclave, I'm left with questions that don't have simple answers:
How do we create decision spaces that allow for deep deliberation while maintaining appropriate transparency?
How do we honor institutional continuity while enabling necessary evolution and transformation?
How do we acknowledge the emotional dimensions of leadership transitions without getting stuck in grief?
How do we balance the need for consensus with the urgency of decisive action?
These questions don't lend themselves to quick fixes, a simple checklist, or five-step plans. They require us to hold contradictions, to balance competing values, to think systematically about processes we typically approach haphazardly or reactively.
Which brings me back to where we started: Why are we so spectacularly bad at succession planning?
Perhaps because we haven't recognized it as the complex, multidimensional challenge it truly is. We treat it as a hiring process, or something we reluctantly have to do, rather than an existential transition. We focus on candidates rather than systems. We prioritize skills and experience over cultural fit and evolutionary potential.
The papal conclave, for all its peculiarities, at least understands the gravity of the task. It creates space, time, and structure commensurate with the importance of the decision.
What would it look like if your organization approached succession with similar seriousness? What if you created your own conclave – not with red robes and secret ballots, but with intentional processes designed for the weight of the moment?
In Part 2 of this series, we'll explore the power dynamics and politics that simmer beneath the surface of succession planning – the hidden agendas, factional battles, and personal ambitions that shape these crucial transitions.
This is the first article in a six-part series examining succession planning through the lens of the papal conclave process. Up next: "Red Hats and Hidden Agendas: The Politics of Succession” where we’ll explore the political dynamics behind succession, including what happens behind closed doors. We’ll also look at factional politics, identity shifts in leadership (founders ceding power to those with different identities), and board dynamics in nonprofit contexts. Finally, we’ll cover the tension between tradition and progress in succession.