SELF-HELP FOR WEALTHY HEIRS.
Program offers ‘safe space’ for wealthy heirs
It can be tough to inherit a great fortune.
No, really. Wealthy heirs often have to confront difficult family dynamics, a society that revels in their failure while coveting their money — and a lack of confidants who understand those troubles, says a Canadian adviser with a unique answer to their dilemma.
Francesco Lombardo has teamed up with a youthful Scottish aristocrat to offer a sort of support group for the scions of “ultra-affluent” families, hosted at the lord’s historic Scottish estate.
For the last two years, 20 or so of the richest young people in the world have gathered at a place where Scottish kings were once crowned, holding group discussions, listening to motivational talks and, to encourage bonding, competing in Highland games.
Keynote speaker for this year’s edition of the “Scone Project,” which just finished, was Craig Kielburger, the wunderkind charitable entrepreneur from Thornhill, Ont.
The idea, says Lombardo, is primarily to create a “safe space” where heirs can open up with people like them about unique problems and concerns, concerns the other 99 per cent might simply view with envy.
“They’re dealing with these feelings, but who can they talk to that will relate to them?” he says.
“They go to the average person and that person will say ‘What, are you insane? You’ve got $200 million in cash, do whatever you want.’ ‘Yeah, but I’m feeling depressed.’ ‘Well, you’re nuts.’ … The banker won’t get it, their accountant won’t get it, their lawyer won’t get it.”
Vancouver-based Lombardo is a former money manager who eventually turned his talents to advising rich families on the “human capital” side of their dynasties. A few years ago, he had a chance meeting in New York City with William Murray, the Viscount Stormont.
Stormont is the 29-yearold heir to the earldom of Mansfield and its seat, Scone Palace. That’s where Scottish kings were crowned for centuries, and original home of the “stone of destiny,” still used in the coronation of British monarchs.
The pair created Scone Project as an alternative to the sales-oriented conferences put on by the “succession and wealth-transfer industry.” Delegates to Scone — pronounced scoon — must be invited and, while the Royal Bank of Canada sponsors the event, its employees do not solicit for business.
Stormont admits the project is partly a self-help exercise as he grapples with the prospect of eventually taking over a centuries-old aristocratic heritage.
“I’ve got 400 years of responsibility on my shoulders, 16 generations of portraits with creepy eyes looking down at me,” the future Earl of Mansfield said in an interview.
“There’s a lot of pressure. You don’t want to be the one who screws it up.”
That the viscount would open up Scone Palace to such an enterprise is not totally out of character for the place.
Like many stately homes in Britain — which cost a fortune just to keep open — it has long since been a popular tourist attraction. Visitors can explore its sumptuous interior, walk the grounds or take in events like Falconry Friday and an open-air screening of the movie Dirty Dancing, scheduled for next Saturday.
The Scone project attendees — who must be 21 to 40 — have come from countries as disparate as Pakistan, Indonesia, Australia and the U.S. Those from here belong to families Canadians would know well, said Lombardo, though he declined to identify any. For Stormont, the goal is to help instil leadership qualities in wealthy successors, try to ensure they are not “crushed” by privilege and wind up squandering their incredible birthright.
“That is the cruel fate that befalls many,” he said. “People who are underprepared for that responsibility and unable or not empowered enough to act upon it and do something of credit with it … Many coast through life and get through it, but I don’t believe they’re truly happy.”
The alternative to coasting could be building or diversifying the family business, engaging in philanthropy or operating some kind of social enterprise, like Kielburger’s Me to We company, said the viscount.
Lombardo stresses the project’s simpler function, of offering a cocoon of security for people whose wealth makes them targets, and objects of scrutiny from a public happy to see them trip up.
“The question is always: ‘Do people like me for my money, my last name or for who I am?’” he said. “It’s a core need of everybody, including wealthy people, to want to feel safe.”
Another edition of the project is in the works for Scone next May, but plans are also afoot to expand to a very different location: the “luxurious” compound in Kenya run by Kielburger’s Me to We, where paying visitors combine good works with vacation.
At Scone Palace, with its royal heritage, participants are encouraged to become “stewards of the realm” — their own realm, that is.
In Kenya? The theme, says Lombardo, will be turning into “the Masai warrior of your family business.”
THEY’RE DEALING WITH THESE FEELINGS, BUT WHO CAN THEY TALK TO THAT WILL RELATE TO THEM?