Warren Buffet’s Last Thanksgiving Letter as CEO

On November 10, 2025, a seemingly simple Thanksgiving letter quietly marked the end of an era. Warren Buffett is “going quiet” as CEO of Berkshire Hathaway, and with him goes a 60‑year tradition of annual shareholder letters that have shaped how generations think about business, leadership, and life.

When he started writing to Berkshire shareholders back in 1965, he probably didn’t imagine that those letters would become required reading, then bestselling books, then dog‑eared leadership manuals on the desks of CEOs and students alike. However, the compilation is now complete. Thankfully (pun very much intended), it’s not all over yet; the Thanksgiving letters will continue, and so will the lessons.

As someone who occasionally enjoys reading shareholder letters as a kind of X‑ray into how some of the world’s sharpest individuals think about organizations, people, and risk, I couldn’t not read this one. When Buffett announced that this would be his final Thanksgiving letter as CEO of Berkshire Hathaway, the internet rightly flooded to it and I happily followed the eyeballs. I dug into the eight‑page note published last month, highlighter in hand, and it did not disappoint.

It may not tell you which stock to buy on Monday morning, but it is packed with his trademark humour, stories you’ll want to retell, and unsurprisingly sharp lessons on work, luck, pay, and leadership. So, without much ado, here are my top three takeaways from this landmark letter.

5 days in the office: This is the first thing that caught my attention. Amidst the ongoing debate on whether one should work from the office or from anywhere, at 95 years old, Warren Buffett still shows up to the Berkshire Hathaway office five days a week, fully engaged despite admitting his balance, eyesight, hearing, and memory are fading.

He doesn’t write more than two lines on this, but it underscores what many top CEOs already believe: physical presence builds trust, sparks serendipity, and models the commitment they expect from everyone else. Think about it—Apple’s Tim Cook, JPMorgan’s Jamie Dimon, and now Buffett’s successor Greg Abel all lean office-first, betting that “showing up” cascades into higher collaboration, culture, and results, even if it ruffles feathers among a large percentage of their workforce.

Maybe we can blame it on a generational divide but let’s just say that the line does not go unnoticed nor will it be a decisive to end the ongoing debate on how much flexibility is right. However, if I were an Oracle, I’d say the pendulum continues to swing towards in-office presence.

CEO Pay Transparency’s Unintended Backfire: Then he takes aim at CEO pay disclosure rules. Publicizing CEO pay, he argues, didn’t shame anyone into moderation; it fuelled envy. Instead of “You’re overpaid, dial it back,” the reaction became “If he’s getting that much, I want more.” The result is a compensation rat race, not restraint.

This lands in an era where we’re inching toward more pay transparency, not less. And this is where I’d urge some nuance. I don’t disagree that broadcasting CEO pay has led to competition at the very top. But grabbing those few paragraphs and turning them into a blanket “pay transparency is dangerous” narrative would be wrong. Buffett did not slam all forms of pay transparency. He challenged one design choice and reminded us that “good intentions do not work” on their own.

If anything, his point should push us to design transparency better, not abandon it. There is solid evidence that thoughtful pay transparency can drive equity for marginalized groups, narrow unexplained gaps, and increase trust. The lesson here isn’t “hide the numbers”; it’s “don’t confuse performative disclosure with real fairness.” For our profession especially, this means moving from compliance‑driven transparency (“we ticked the box”) to principle‑driven transparency (“here is our philosophy, our ranges, and our why”).

Traits of a CEO (and who shouldn’t get the job): My favourite line in the whole letter might be this one: “Particularly avoid those whose goal is to retire at 65, to become look‑at‑me rich or to initiate a dynasty.” With that one sentence, Buffett quietly crosses out a big part of the usual leadership pipeline.

It lands in the middle of a global conversation about retirement ages, national debt, and longer lifespans. At the same time, the FIRE (financial independence, retire early) movement is gaining traction, and work is increasingly getting a bad rap, sometimes deservedly so, as organizations earn a reputation for being ruthless, extractive, and tone‑deaf on sustainability and human wellbeing. Against that backdrop, Buffett’s criteria feel almost radical: don’t pick leaders whose primary goals are to clock out early, flaunt their wealth, or build dynasties.

Of everything he writes, this is the line that stayed with me the longest. It made me ask: what would it take to build organizations people don’t want to retire early from? Places where the goal isn’t just personal wealth, but shared value? Cultures where future leaders don’t feel the need to cling to power and pass it down like a family heirloom? I struggle to think of many world leaders today who would fully pass Buffett’s test. Berkshire is lucky to have Greg Abel at its helm right now, but I do wonder how many future successors will genuinely steer clear of all three traits Buffett warns us about.

Warren Buffett’s final Thanksgiving letter as CEO doesn’t offer hot stock tips, market predictions, or any commentary on AI. Instead, I discovered stories I’d never heard before: his hilarious take on the New Coke fiasco, a corporate misstep that tested even Coca‑Cola’s brand loyalty, and the story of Alfred Nobel’s premature obituary, which is now nudging me to write my own and reminding me that it’s never too late to edit the story of your life.

Even more striking was his raw acknowledgment of luck—the “birth lottery” of Omaha roots and American opportunity that so many successful leaders gloss over or claim as pure merit, instead of acknowledging that who your parents are, where you are born, and the economic system you land in does shape your odds. That humility alone makes the letter a timeless read for current and aspiring leaders.

If there’s one thing you read today, let it be his Thanksgiving letter for this year. Then come back and tell me in the comments: what stood out for you and what might you rewrite in your own story?