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This week’s letter is a little different. Less about innovation mechanics, more about the roots beneath it. I’m sharing a personal story about family wealth (not the kind you count, but the kind you carry). Think of it as background context on why I do the work I do.

A few weeks ago, we were sitting together as a family over lunch. My sister had just flown in from Berlin, my dad was juggling updates from his latest real estate project, and my mom had already prepared an agenda for the week, even though we were supposed to be on vacation. It was loud, it was loving, and in every way it felt like us.

Somewhere between the lentil salad and the third coffee, I caught myself pausing. What struck me wasn’t the food or the conversation, but the rhythm. The trust. The unspoken language of a family that has worked - and stayed - together. And I realized: this is the real family wealth.

Not the company shares. Not the assets. Not the spreadsheets.

My father used to say: “Money without perspective is dangerous.” And it stuck, because I grew up watching what happens when that perspective is missing. My grandfather was brilliant and visionary - and he lost much of our family’s material wealth through overambitious ventures, from manufacturing to foreign trucks. My dad spent decades rebuilding. But what he really rebuilt wasn’t just economics.

He rebuilt meaning. He brought us to his construction sites, asked for our opinions, encouraged us to mix Lego, Duplo, and Barbies into one messy design system, long before we knew what systems thinking was. He made sure we felt part of something, not later, but already. Looking back, that was the most valuable inheritance of all.

Because while most people think of family wealth as something you count, I’ve come to believe the most important parts of a legacy are the ones you can’t measure.

Wealth isn’t just capital. It’s context. It’s contribution. It’s continuity.

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One Insight

Over the years, I’ve started to use this framework to make sense of what successors are really inheriting, and what they risk losing if they don’t name it clearly:

→ Social Capital - The Trust That Travels

This is the invisible infrastructure of trust, communication, and shared memory.

In our family, there was never a rigid routine, but we stayed close. We were always eating together, vacationing together, and, yes, getting pulled into each other’s work early. What surprised me later was how much of that trust also transferred outward.

People who trusted my dad, trusted me almost immediately. I didn’t have to prove myself from zero. That’s one of the most underestimated assets a successor can inherit: not just money, but the reputation of reliability that travels with your family name.

When families lose this capital, succession becomes strategy without connection.

→ Human Capital - The Skills That Compound

Human capital is the set of skills, mindsets, and capabilities each generation brings. And the point is not that they’re the same. The point is that they’re different.

My mom didn’t build a business from scratch, but she scaled clinics, transformed systems, and led with precision. My dad showed us how to see opportunity, how to think laterally, how to do. My sister and I bring our own differences: creative, strategic, collaborative.

That diversity is family capital. If everyone in a family thinks the same way, reinvention is impossible. Difference is uncomfortable in the moment, but it’s exactly what prepares a business for a changing world.

→ Spiritual Capital - The Compass You Can’t Buy

The book calls this spiritual capital - the vision and guiding purpose that gives meaning to wealth.

In our house, there were no “wrong” ideas. Just half-built Lego worlds where Duplo, Barbies, and bricks mixed into something new. Playfulness turned into courage. Courage turned into clarity. And clarity turned into leadership.

That’s spiritual capital in action: the values, emotions, and stories that shape how a family works. Families that neglect it often discover that financial wealth without meaning evaporates quickly. Families that nurture it pass down a compass.

There’s even a whole industry now that helps families preserve their stories. At Dawn, I created my own way of doing this with Innovation Chronicles, business-focused reports that document a company’s history and innovation path. And privately, I’ve started investigating my own family’s story more deeply, because this is the capital that doesn’t show up in the books but shows up everywhere in life.

→ Intellectual Capital - The Lessons That Stick

This is about knowledge and decision-making logic - the lessons that compound across generations.

One of my dad’s lessons to me was: “Don’t switch too often. You lose compounding interest.”

In a world obsessed with pivots, that gave me an edge - the ability to stay with something long enough to make it real.

These principles are quiet, but they shape every decision that follows. And unlike financial capital, they can’t be taken away in a crisis.

→ Financial Capital - The Visible Part

Finally, of course, there’s money. The part you can count.

But here’s the irony: in our family story, money was the least stable capital. My grandfather lost it. My dad rebuilt it.

And that’s why the other four matter so much. Because when financial capital disappears, and at some point, it always fluctuates, it’s the hidden capitals that allow a family to start again.

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One Question

What has your family passed on that's more valuable than money?

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One Opportunity

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