Ramstad: Biden, Trump show us how hard it is to let go of power, a career and identity

One of the hardest decisions in business — and life — is to let go.

To step away from a job or career. Write off a debt. End a relationship. Exit an investment. Drop a child off at kindergarten, or college. Be at peace with the death of a loved one.

Each requires a person to reject the instinct to keep going, give it some more time, cling.

Who has more madly demonstrated this than Joe Biden and Donald Trump? Two old men unwilling to let go shaped an American election.

On Sunday, Biden finally did. He exited the race after support collapsed for him following the June 27 debate, where he appeared physically incapable of serving another four years.

Trump clings, though he is squandering the goodwill that came his way after the July 13 assassination attempt. Old age ensnares him too; his ideas and worldview are stuck in 1980s amber. He showed no class Sunday with his statements about Biden, no awareness of his rival’s new place in history.

Before all that, during the after-service coffee at my church Sunday morning, I joined several retirees who were talking about the unpleasant state of the campaign. I asked if it had been difficult for them to decide to retire. Nowhere near as difficult as for Trump and Biden, they said. The discussion veered to power, money and self-worth, attracting other parishioners. I imagined millions of similar discussions Americans have had in recent weeks.

A few hours later, Biden announced his decision, and I called some others who recently decided to let go of their careers.

“Look, it’s an adjustment,” said Archie Black, who retired last year after 22 years as CEO at SPS Commerce in Minneapolis. “A big part of it is that it’s people’s identity.”

Because SPS is a public-owned company, it developed a succession plan that Black influenced.

“The biggest thing for me was to go out on my terms, and I wanted to go out when I knew the next CEO could succeed,” Black said. “When a CEO is forced out, that makes the next person’s job really hard.”

Black tells people he has retired, even though he’s 62, serves on five corporate boards and is involved in education reform.

“People say ‘Well, I’m not retired.’ I just say ‘I’m retired.’ I know people who have a tough time with the word,” Black said.

Harry Lerner, the 92-year-old founder of Lerner Publishing in Minneapolis, is one of them. He still goes to the office six days a week.

“I’m not retired. I’ve backed off somewhat,” Lerner said. “On the other hand, I love going to the office.”

Lerner and his wife, Sandy, were friends with my late parents and, more recently, me. Seven years ago, before I knew him well, I wrote about how Harry and his son Adam navigated their leadership succession. As majority shareholder, Harry keeps on top of company finances and investments. Adam and the team produce the books, in digital and print, and Harry reads them all.

“I spend a lot of time reading our new books,” Lerner said. “And meeting people. I get calls constantly from younger people who want me to tell them about their parents I worked with.”

He said he empathized with the choice Biden faced.

“People don’t like his age. That’s a non-issue with me,” Lerner said.

I caught Jim Clark — who last month ended 30 years as a teacher and principal for Minneapolis Public Schools — assembling Ikea kitchen cabinets in his new condo Sunday afternoon.

“The big reason to retire is there are other things I wanted to do in my life,” said Clark, who is 62 and most recently led Emerson Elementary, one of three dual-language schools for Spanish and English in the district.

“A good part of my life I lived in Spain. My wife is from Spain and for us to be able to go there and spend time with her family is important,” Clark said. “And I didn’t want to retire at an age when it was all over. I wanted to have time to enjoy the second part of life.”

He had a fairy-tale exit with several farewell parties and even a mayoral proclamation that June 1 was Jim Clark Day in Minneapolis.

Since school principals usually vacation in July, Clark said he thinks it will be next month before it really hits him that he is retired. The life of a principal, he said, is a balance between being fueled by kids’ energy and being wary of “really messing it up” with a bad decision.

“One of my thoughts has been, ‘Now what’s life going to be like without all that?’” Clark said.