Alumni Spotlight: Christopher Poon ’14

Take me back to 2014. What was it like being a student interested in family enterprise back then, before the formal Global Family Enterprise Program existed?

The [Family Business Club] didn’t have nearly as much prominence back then — it was more like a hobby, or a peripheral interest group. But it was something I was really interested in, and I sought it out, because it wasn’t my first experience with family business-related issues.

It was a very intimate group — I think it was only 10 or 15 people. And there was a pretty clear dichotomy in the group: people who were interested in the social aspect of it, and people who were a little more interested in the sociological or psychological side of it and making it into something else.  It was a very intimate, fun kind of thing. And I guess, knowing where it went, it feels like it was a turning point, or an inflection point, in its journey.

What specifically drew you in? A class, a professor, something else?

Inherently, I think it’s community. Family business people, in my experience, are a tortured and misunderstood group of people. If I look back at my time, I think I was in a similar place — I was suffering silently, and I think that’s the common thread: they suffer quite silently, because it’s pretty tough to go out and say, ‘I have so much privilege, but I’m really struggling.’ And the stakes always feel so high —a lot of it’s identity, ego, money.

But it was a lot of fun. The group was very welcoming. [The club’s outgoing president] was just an incredible woman — personable, intelligent, sociable.

In 2014, how did you even find each other? Was it hard to find students from family business backgrounds, or students willing to talk openly about them?

If I look back at my time at Columbia, I think it’s probably one of my greatest contributions — partly because of what [the club] became, but the growth rate itself was fairly phenomenal, and I was quite surprised myself.

I remember building out a board from a bunch of friends who were involved in family business. I’ve always been a pretty social person, so I talked to a lot of students, and a lot of people around campus, because I knew their backgrounds. There’s a couple of categories you can easily classify people into: you’re either in family business and interested, in family business and not interested, not in family business and not interested, or not in family business and interested. And when I ran around and talked to all these people, there was a huge amount of interest. One thing that really surprised me was that there was actually a lot of interest in family business from people outside of family business.

I went to the [club] board and said, “Look, there are 1,100 students here — why can’t we get more than 10?” We spent a lot of time on that question, and it was difficult, because we couldn’t see where the common threads were. 

That’s actually what led to Family Business Matters. When I started asking everyone what was going on in their life, what business they were in, I realized a common bond between everybody was trauma — or, if that’s too technical a word, the suffering. The only thing we really had in common, aside from being at Columbia, was that everybody had some difficult story to tell. So I thought: why don’t we just go up and talk about our families, our backgrounds, and the difficulties? That’s what inspired me to do the first Family Business Matters.

I went up and was completely open-hearted. It went quite viral in the school, because I think people were shocked at that level of vulnerability, and I took a completely open Q&A — no questions held back. And then the membership just exploded. It became this huge group where people came together around the question of what their trauma was, what their suffering was. That was a huge insight I hadn’t expected, and the whole thing snowballed.

Before there was a club, who did you go to with a question about succession, timing, or working with siblings?

When I was in Asia, we banked with a couple of large institutions. They had a next-gen program — they’d basically recruit scions of the second or third generation, put you in a cohort, and give you a few days of family business and investment training. 

These programs are large — maybe 50 people — so you run into two very different dynamics: people who have so much possibility and choice that they just want to buy Ferraris and do nothing, and people who show up every day and grind. I gravitated more toward the people who were grinding, and we ended up building our own thing around what was going on in each other’s lives. That was one major source of support, and I’m still good friends with all those guys now.

The other place I’d probably say I looked for support — which is actually the wrong place, in hindsight — was my own family. It’s such a private thing and going to the same people you’re struggling with for support is actually a terrible model. But that was a big part of it, along with one of those family business programs. 

What were your goals for that first year of the club? Looking back, do you feel like you achieved them?

Yes — we did have a very distinct sense of vision, and that was because of where the club had been. 

When I joined, [the club’s outgoing president] was really the one who wanted to make it into something more meaningful. We knew we had really limited time, because she’d already finished her tenure, and by the time I was president I only had a year, so I had a huge sense of urgency to institutionalize the club quickly and make sure the changes we’d made would stick.

That’s specifically why we organized a conference, why I pushed heavily for democratic elections, because I didn’t want it to just be a chain of one person handing off to another, and why we tried to create consistent programming.

I really wanted to create a framework that would continue and build up a really strong foundation, so: consistent programming, democratic elections, a conference, a real programming calendar.

With the club now well over 300 members and a full calendar of speakers, treks, and alumni networking, what did the early events look like?

It’s so funny — I don’t even think there were really “events,” before our time. I think it was literally just a club that got together, and it was, “I’m going out on Friday or Saturday,” without much of a structured program. There were a couple of people who were dedicated to it too, but that’s why I needed to build a board — I knew that if I wanted to build some kind of structure, I needed a good team.

I really leaned hard on some good friends I’d made there to be part of the board, but I had to give them a reason to be there beyond that — we’d have beers and sandwiches and sit around and chat and try to figure things out. That was what the early events looked like: some kind of common interest, and because the group was small, it was easy to pull people in — like, would it be cool to have a good estate planning person come in and talk about it? 

Was there a moment early on where it felt like the club was going to work and it could be sustainable?

After Family Business Matters. There were two things that stood out to me looking back. One was the level of engagement. When I did Family Business Matters, it wasn’t just members of the club. I was good friends with a lot of people around the school, so when I did Family Business Matters, it wasn’t just the Family Business Club that showed up — a lot of personal contacts came to listen, too. The room was full, maybe 50 people, when membership itself was still only around 15.

It was the level of engagement once they were there that stood out — leading with a story like my grandfather passing away sets a tone. I don’t think people had seen anything quite like it; most people carry a very strong judgment of people from family business — this rich kid who has everything, no problems, no struggles — and then hear about other people’s sacrifice instead. I’m sure it’s similar for entrepreneurship, too: people whose families came from extreme poverty.

You’re a mentor in the program now. Does that feel connected to why you started the club, or more like something different?

Of course it feels connected — by definition it is. I didn’t realize, even having been a mentor for a year and a half now, how institutionalized the club has become; there’s still a bit of a gap there, just speaking objectively. But of course, it feels connected to have seen it go in this direction.

Because it’s such a sensitive area, I’d say it feels a little different, too. When you’re friends with someone, the space is more informal, a little safer; but once you have Columbia behind you, it’s institutional — it feels more formal, the standard needs to be higher, because you’re representing the school as well as yourself. That part is interesting. But this whole conversation feels very connected to Columbia — I feel nothing but a deep sense of contribution, or pride, whatever you want to call it, to whatever degree I can feel things.