"The Department of Transportation should monitor what happens to the squabble between the Yanson siblings, and step in if necessary."
"The Department of Transportation should monitor what happens to the squabble between the Yanson siblings, and step in if necessary."
The turmoil in which the biggest land transportation group in the Philippines—the Ceres-Vallacar group, with a total of 4,800 buses and 18,000 employees—finds itself has given rise to a number of questions that are important for the future stability of this country’s family-owned businesses and, by extension, of the Philippine business community. The turmoil came into being when, four years after his death, four of the five children of group founder Ricardo Yanson staged a corporate-boardroom coup and ousted from the presidency their sibling Leo Rey, who had been chosen by Ricardo Yanson as his successor. Ricardo Yanson’s wife Olivia concurred in her husband’s choice.
The first question raised by the Yanson family imbroglio relates to the process and practice of succession in a family-corporation setting. Did Ricardo Yanson do the right thing in handpicking as his successor Leo Rey, who was not his eldest son, instead of leaving that decision to the Ceres-Vallacar board of directors, in truly democratic fashion? Did the patriarch engage in something akin to consensus-taking before choosing Leo Rey? And is patriarchal decision-making on succession the best approach to long-term corporate stability?
The second question raised by the Yanson family turmoil is related to human interaction and inter-personal communication. Is it possible that the problem among the siblings over the single large cash withdrawal—the “trust issue”—allegedly made by Leo Rey Yanson arose suddenly? I doubt it. It is more likely that the problem between Leo Rey and his siblings—two brothers and two sisters—had been simmering for some time. The cash withdrawal very probably was merely the clinching event as far as Leo Rey’s siblings were concerned. How about the colleagues and friends of the five siblings? Did they not sense, since Leo Rey’s assumption of the presidency, that there was an uneasy relationship between the siblings? They must—or should—have.
A final—and highly consequential—question raised by the Yanson family imbroglio is the role of the State. Given its status as the nation’s largest land transportation company, what happens at the Ceres and Vallacar bus companies matters a great deal to the government, whose responsibility it is to ensure that the Filipino people are provided with safe and reasonably priced land transportation facilities on a stable basis. Should the government be a mere passive observer in situations like the Yanson corporate mess, or should it operate proactively? If the latter, how should the government go about it? Should it establish an agency mandated to oversee large businesses imbued with major public interest, especially businesses owned by single families? Should such an agency be vested with the power to compel contending parties to submit themselves to mediation?
In my home Visayan province, Ceres and Vallacar have great economic significance and the two companies’ buses are the principal source of public long-distance transportation. The same is true in many other provinces in the Visayas, Mindanao and, in recent years, in Luzon. Ceres, especially, has become a byword in national land transportation.
The Department of Transportation should monitor what happens to the squabble between the Yanson siblings—I believe it is now in court—and step in, if intervention becomes necessary, to protect the interest of the millions of Filipinos whose daily lives include riding on Ceres and Vallacar buses.